OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF 
 
m 
 
 E,iding a Buffalo. 
 
 P. 19. 
 
THE 
 
 WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 Wt at % grata prates. 
 
 BY 
 
 E. M. BALLANTYNE, 
 
 ATTTHOB OF "THE BED EBIC," BTC. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY ZWECKER. 
 
 LONDON: 
 ROUTLEDGE, WARNE, & 110UTLEDGE, 
 
 FAREINGDOX STEEET ; 
 
 NEW YORK: 5G, WALKER STREET. 
 
 1863. 
 
S 5* 
 
 B 
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Page 
 
 In which the Reader is introduced to a Mad Hero, a 
 Reckless Lover, and a Runaway Husband Back- 
 woods Juvenile Training described The Principles 
 of Fighting fully discussed, and some valuable Hints 
 thrown out 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Great Prairie A Wild Chase A Remarkable Acci- 
 dent and an Extraordinary Charger, all of which ter- 
 minate in a Crash Bounce talks Philosophy and tells 
 of Terrible Things Our Hero determines to beard the 
 Wild Man of the West in his own Den 12 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Beauties of the Wilderness Portages Philosophy 
 of Settling Down An Enormous Footprint Supper 
 procured, and a Bear-hunt in prospect 33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Gibault has an Adventure, and discovers a very strange 
 
 iv n cxr?^?r*/i c^ 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Creature in the Woods A most tremendous Bear- 
 hunt particularly described 50 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Fiery Remarks and Cogitations Round the Camp-fire 
 The Artist gives an Account of Himself Value of a 
 Sketch-Book Discoveries and Dark Threats The 
 Bear's-claw Collar 70 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Dangers of the Wilderness An Unexpected Cata- 
 strophe, which necessitates a Change of Plans A 
 Descent upon Robbers proposed and agreed to ... 89 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A Wolfish Way of killing Buffalo described Bounce 
 becomes Metaphysical on the Pine Arts Butchering 
 enlarged on A glorious Feast, and Sketching under 
 Difficulties . 107 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A Cache discovered Bertram becomes valorous failure 
 follows, and a brief Skirmish, Plight, and Separation 
 are the Results . 127 
 
CONTENTS. V 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Pagre 
 
 Bounce cogitates upon the embarrassing Circumstances 
 of his Condition Discovery of Black Gibault 
 Terrible Fate in Store for their ComradesA Mode of 
 Rescue planned Dreadful Effects of Fire-water The 
 Rescue . 144 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Short Treatise on Horseflesh Remarks on Slang 
 Doings and Sights on the Prairie The Mountain Fort 166 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Original Efforts in the Art of Painting Fur-trading 
 Hospitality Wonderful Accounts of the Wild Man 
 of the West, from an Eye-witness Buffalo-hunting, 
 Scalping, Murdering, and a Summary Method of in- 
 flicting Punishment 181 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 An Argument on Argumentation also on Religion 
 Bounce " feelosophical " again A Race cut short by 
 a Bullet Flight and Pursuit of the Redskins ... 199 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Pursuit Conscientious Scruples of the Artist 
 Strategic Movements Surprised in the Wild-Cat 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Pass March shows Coolness and Pluck in the Hour of 
 Danger A Terrific Onslaught by a wonderful Warrior 
 The Battle Hard Knocks and Mysterious Differ- 
 ences of Opinion 214 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The Hunting-ground How they spent the Sabbath- 
 day among the Mountains Threatening Clouds on 
 the Horizon . . 241 
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 Business unpleasantly Interrupted The Mountain Port 
 in Danger Trappers to the Rescue A Rude Meeting 
 with Foes in the Dark A Wild Race March meets 
 with a Severe Misfortune .. 250 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 March gets a Surprise ; more than that, he gets a Va- 
 riety of Surprises Meets with a Strange Hunter 
 Goes in a Strange Fashion to a Strange Cavern and 
 beholds Strange Sights Besides other Matters of 
 Interest ,.258 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 The Vision in Leather 279 
 
CONTENTS. Vll 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Pa^e 
 
 The Cave of the Wild Man of the West March and 
 Mary hold Pleasant Intercourse Dick's Good Quali- 
 ties enlarged on The Wild Man gives a Redskin a 
 Strange Lesson A Startling Interruption to Pleasant 
 Converse ... .. 287 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The Mysteries of the Cave explained Ingenious De- 
 vices of the Wild Man March and Mary besieged 
 The Redskins proceed to make themselves at Home in 
 the Cavern . . 312 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A Gallop to the Rescue A Discovery Right-about 
 Face ADisagreeable Surprise and a Sudden Ejection 
 A Calm after the Storm Mary a Huntress Dick's 
 Story of the Murdered Trapper 325 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 March, though willing in Spirit, finds his Body weak 
 He makes Mary a Present The Trappers set out to 
 search for their Lost Comrade An Unexpected Meet- 
 ing Big Waller waxes Pugnacious News of March 
 Dick becomes more Mysterious than ever A Reck- 
 less Proposal and a Happy Meeting 345 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 March Marston is perplexed, so are his Friends An 
 
VI11 CONTENTS. 
 
 Pa^e 
 
 unlooked-for Meeting Terrible News The Attack 
 The Wild Man of the West once again renders 
 signal Service to the Trappers Wild Doings in gene- 
 ral, and March Marston's Chagrin in particular ... 361 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 The Wounded Eur-trader .. 374 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 March Marston at Home His astonishing Behaviour 
 Narration of his Extraordinary Adventures 
 Widow Marston's Bower The Rendezvous of the 
 Trappers A Strange Interruption to March's Nar- 
 rative A Wild Surprise and Recovery of a Lost 
 Lover Great Destruction of Household Goods 
 A Double Wedding and Tremendous Excitement 
 The Wild Man of the West the Wisest Man in Pine 
 Point Settlement ..389 
 
 
THE 
 
 WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 In which the Reader is introduced to a Mad Hero, a Reck- 
 less Lover, and a Runaway Husband Backwoods 
 Juvenile Training described The Principles of Fighting 
 fully discussed, and some valuable Hints thrown out. 
 
 MARCH MARSTON was mad ! The exact state 
 of madness to which March had attained at the 
 age when we take up his personal history 
 namely, sixteen is uncertain, for the people of 
 the backwoods settlement in which he dwelt 
 differed in their opinions on that point. 
 
 The clergyman, who was a Wesleyan, said he 
 was as wild as a young buffalo-bull; but the 
 manner in which he said so led his hearers to 
 conclude that he did not think such a state of 
 ungovernable madness to be a hopeless condition, 
 by any means. The doctor said he was as mad 
 as a hatter; but this was an indefinite remark, 
 worthy of a doctor who had never obtained a 
 diploma, and required explanation, inasmuch as 
 it was impossible to know how mad he considered 
 B 
 
2 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 a hatter to be. Some of the trappers who came 
 to the settlement for powder and lead, said he 
 was as mad as a grisly bear with a whooping- 
 cough, a remark which, if true, might tend to 
 throw light on the diseases to which the grisly 
 bear is liable, but which failed to indicate to any 
 one except, perhaps, trappers, the extent of young 
 Marston's madness. The carpenter and the black- 
 smith of the place who were fast friends and had 
 a pitched battle only once a month, or twice at 
 most agreed in saying that he was as mad as a 
 wild cat. In short, every one asserted stoutly 
 that the boy was mad, with the exception of the 
 women of the settlement, who thought him a 
 fine, bold, handsome fellow; and his own mother, 
 who thought him a paragon of perfection, and who 
 held the opinion (privately) that, in the wide range 
 of the habitable globe there was not another like 
 him and she was not far wrong ! 
 
 Now, the whole and sole reason why^Tarch 
 Marston was thus deemed a madman was, that 
 he displayed an insane tendency, at all times and 
 in all manners, to break his own neck, or to make 
 away with himself in some similarly violent and 
 uncomfortable manner. 
 
 There was not a fence in the whole country- 
 side that March had not bolted over at full gallop, 
 or ridden crash through if he could not go over 
 it. There was not a tree within a circuit of four 
 miles from the top of which he had not fallen. 
 
There was not a pond or pool in the neighbour- 
 hood into which he had not soused at some period 
 of his stormy juvenile career, and there was not 
 a big boy whom he had not fought and thrashed 
 or been thrashed by scores of times. 
 
 But for all this March had not a single enemy. 
 He did his companions many a kind turn ; never 
 an unkind one. He fought for love, not for 
 hatred. He loved a dog if any one kicked it, he 
 fought him. He loved a little boy if any one 
 was cruel to that little boy, he fought him. He 
 loved fair play if any one was guilty of foul 
 play, he fought him. When he was guilty of 
 foul play himself (as was sometimes the case, for 
 who is perfect?) he felt inclined to jump out of 
 his own body and turn about and thrash himself! 
 And he would have done so often, had it been 
 practicable. Yes, there is no doubt whatever 
 about it, March Marston was mad as mad, after 
 a fashion, as any creature, human or otherwise, 
 you choose to name. 
 
 Young Marston's mother was a handsome, 
 stout, blue-eyed, flaxen-haired woman, of a little 
 over thirty-five summers. She was an English 
 emigrant, and had, seventeen years before the 
 time we write of, settled at Pine Point, on the 
 banks of the Yellowstone River, along with her 
 brother, the blacksmith above referred to. At 
 that time she was the sweetest maiden in all the 
 village, and now she was the handsomest matron. 
 B 2 
 
4 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 Indeed, the bloom of her youth remained on her 
 cheeks so little impaired that she was often mis- 
 taken by strangers for March Marston's elder sis- 
 ter. The men of the place called her pretty widow 
 Marston j but she was not a widow at least, they 
 had as little ground for saying that she was as they 
 had for asserting that her son was mad. Mrs. 
 Marston was peculiarly circumstanced, but she 
 was not a widow. 
 
 The peculiar circumstances connected with her 
 history are soon told. Immediately after the ar- 
 rival of the blacksmith and his pretty sister at 
 Pine Point settlement, a tall stout young stripling 
 a trapper about a year older than herself, fell 
 deeply in love with Mary West that being Mrs. 
 Marston's maiden name. The young trapper's 
 case was desperate. He sank at once so deep into 
 the profundities of love, that no deep-sea lead, 
 however ingeniously contrived, could reach him. 
 
 Although just emerging from boyhood, Louis 
 the trapper was already a tall, strong, handsome 
 man, and Mary felt flattered by his attentions. But 
 when, a month afterwards, he boldly offered her 
 his hand and fortune (which latter consisted of a 
 trapper's costume and a western rifle), she was 
 taken aback and flatly refused him. Louis was 
 hare-brained and passionate. He told her he 
 would give her one day and a night to think of it. 
 At the end of that time he came back and was 
 again refused, for Mary West had no notion of 
 
MARY WEST AND HER LOVERS. 5 
 
 being taken by storm in that fashion. But she 
 trembled and grew pale on observing the storm of 
 angry passion that gleamed from the young trap- 
 per's eyes and caused his broad chest to heave 
 violently. He did not speak. He did not even 
 look at Mary had he done so, years of sorrow 
 and suffering might have been spared them both ! 
 He stood for one moment with his eyes fixed upon 
 the ground then he turned, sprang through the 
 doorway, vaulted on his horse, and went off from 
 her cottage door as an arrow leaps from a bow. 
 The fences and ditches that lay in his way were 
 no impediment. His powerful steed carried him 
 over all and into the forest beyond, where he was 
 quickly lost to view. Mary tried to resume her 
 household occupations with a sigh. She did not 
 believe he was gone. But he was ! 
 
 At first Mary was nettled ; then she grew sad ; 
 as weeks passed away she became nettled again, 
 and at this juncture another suitor appeared in 
 the shape of a young immigrant farmer, whose 
 good looks and insinuating address soothed her 
 irritation at the strange, abrupt conduct of her 
 lover. She began to think that she must have 
 been mistaken in supposing that she cared for the 
 wild trapper and, in order to prove the correct- 
 ness of her supposition, she married Obadiah 
 Marston, the farmer. 
 
 Alas ! poor Mary discovered her error too late. 
 Marston turned out a profligate drunkard. At 
 
6 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST, 
 
 first he did not come out in his true colours. A 
 son was born, and he insisted on calling him 
 March, for no other reason than that he was born 
 in the month so named. Mary was obliged to 
 consent, and at last came to congratulate herself 
 that the child had been born in March, and not in 
 April or October, or any other month equally un- 
 suitable for a Christian name. After the first 
 year, Obadiah Marston treated his wife badly, 
 then brutally, and at last he received a sound 
 drubbing from his brother-in-law, the blacksmith, 
 for having beaten poor Mary with a stick. This 
 brought things to a climax. Marston vowed he 
 would forsake his wife, and never set eyes on her 
 again ; and he kept his vow. He embarked one 
 day in a boat that was going down to the Mis- 
 souri with a cargo of furs, and his poor wife never 
 saw him again. Thus was Mary West forsaken, 
 first by her lover, and then by her husband. 
 
 It was long before she recovered the blow ; but 
 time gradually reconciled her to her lot, and she 
 devoted herself thenceforth to the training of her 
 little boy. As years rolled on, Mrs. Marston 
 recovered her spirits and her looks ; but, although 
 many a fine young fellow sought her heart and 
 hand, assuring her that she was a widow that 
 she must be a widow, that no man in his senses 
 could remain so long away from such a wife unless 
 he were dead, she turned a deaf ear to them all. 
 
 March Marston' s infancy was spent in yelling 
 
and kicking, with the exception of those preterna- 
 turally calm periods when he was employed in 
 eating and sleeping. As he grew older, the 
 kicking and yelling decreased, the eating in- 
 creased, and the sleeping continued pretty much 
 the same. Then came a period when he began to 
 learn his A, B, C. Mrs. Marston had been well 
 educated for her station in life. She had read 
 much, and had brought a number of books to the 
 backwoods settlement; so she gave her boy a 
 pretty good education as education went in those 
 days, and certainly a much better one than was 
 given to boys in such out-of-the-way regions. 
 She taught him to read and write, and carried 
 him on in arithmetic as far as compound division, 
 where she stuck, having reached the extreme 
 limits of her own tether. 
 
 Contemporaneously with the cessation of squall- 
 ing a.nd kicking, and the acquirement of the 
 A, B, C, there arose in little March's bosom un- 
 utterable love for his mother ; or, rather, the love 
 that had always dwelt there began to well up 
 powerfully, and to overflow in copious streams of 
 obedience and considerate attention. About the 
 same time the roving, reckless " madness," as it 
 was styled, began to develope itself. And, strange 
 to say, Mrs. Marston did not check that ! She 
 was a large-minded, a liberal-minded woman, that 
 semi-widow. She watched her son closely, but 
 very few of his deeds were regarded by her in the 
 
8 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 light of faults. Tumbling off trees was not. 
 Falling into ditches and horse-ponds was not. 
 Fighting was, to some extent ; and on this point 
 alone did mother and son seem to entertain any 
 difference of opinion, if we may style that differ- 
 ence of opinion where the son fell into silent and 
 extreme perplexity after a short, and on his part 
 humble, discussion on the subject. 
 
 " Why, mother," said March, in surprise (hav- 
 ing attained the mature age of eight when he 
 said it), " if a grisly bear was to 'tack me, you'd 
 let me defend myself, wouldn't you ? " 
 
 Mrs. Marston smiled to see the rotund little 
 object of two-feet-ten standing before the fire with 
 its legs apart, and its arms crossed, putting such 
 a question, and replied, 
 
 " Certainly, my boy." 
 
 " And when Tom Blake offered to hit Susy 
 Jefferson, wasn't I right to fight him for that? " 
 
 " Yes, my boy, I think it right to fight in de- 
 fence of the weak and helpless." 
 
 The object of two-feet-ten began to swell and 
 his eye to brighten at the unexpected success of 
 this catechizing of its mother, and went on to 
 say 
 
 "Well, mother, why do you blame me for 
 fighting then, if it's right ? " 
 
 " Because fighting is not always right, my boy. 
 You had a fight with Bill Summers, hadn't you, 
 yesterday ? " 
 
PRINCIPLES OF FIGHTING. 9 
 
 " Yes, mother." 
 
 Tvvo-feet-ten said this in a hesitating tone, and 
 shrank into its ordinary proportions as it con- 
 tinued 
 
 " But I didn't lick him, mother, he licked me. 
 But Pll try again, mother indeed I will, and I'll 
 be sure to lick him next time." 
 
 " I don't want you to try again," rejoined Mrs. 
 Marston ; " and you must not try again with- 
 out a good reason. Why did you fight him 
 yesterday ? " 
 
 " Because he told a lie/' said the object, 
 promptly, swelling out again, and looking big 
 under the impression that the goodness of its 
 reason could not be questioned. It was, there- 
 fore, with a look of baffled surprise that it col- 
 lapsed again on being told that that was not a 
 sufficient reason for engaging in warfare, and that 
 it was wrong to take the law into its own hands, 
 or to put in its word or its little fist, where it 
 had no right to interfere, and a great deal more 
 to that effect. 
 
 " But March, my boy," said Mrs. Marston, 
 drawing the object towards her and patting its 
 round little fair head, " What makes you so fond 
 of fighting?" 
 
 " I ain't fond o' fighting, mother, but I can't 
 help it." 
 
 " Can't help it ! Do you ever try ? " 
 
 " I I no, I don't think that I do. But I 
 
10 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 feel so funny when I see Bill Summers cheatin' 
 at play. I feel all over red-hot like like oh ! 
 you've seen the big pot boilin' over? Well, I 
 just feel like that. An' w'en it boils over, you 
 know, mother it must be took off the fire, else it 
 kicks up sick a row ! But there's nobody to take 
 me off the fire when I'm boilin' over, an' there's 
 no fire to take me off so you see I can't help it. 
 Can I?" 
 
 As the object concluded these precociously 
 philosophical remarks, it looked up in its mother's 
 face with an earnest inquiring gaze. The mother 
 looked down at it with an equally earnest look, 
 though there was a twinkle in each eye and a 
 small dimple in each cheek that indicated a 
 struggle with gravity, and said, 
 
 " I could stop the big pot from boiling over 
 without taking it off the fire." 
 
 " How ? " inquired Two-feet-ten eagerly. 
 
 " By letting it boil over till it put the fire out." 
 
 The object opened its eyes very wide, and 
 pursed its mouth very tight ; then it relaxed, 
 grinned a little with an air of uncertainty, and 
 was about to laugh, but checked itself, and, with 
 a look of perplexity said, 
 
 " Eh ? " 
 
 " Ay, my boy/' resumed the mother, "just you 
 try the boiling-over plan next time. When you 
 feel inclined to fight, and know, or think that 
 you shouldn't, just stand quite still, and look hard 
 
11 
 
 at the ground, mind, don't look at the boy you 
 want to fight with, but at the ground, and begin 
 to count one, two, three, four, and so on, and I'm 
 quite sure that when you've counted fifty the fire 
 will be out. Now, will you try, my son?" 
 
 " Mother," replied Two-feet-ten, earnestly (and 
 becoming at least two feet eleven while he spoke), 
 " Til try ! " 
 
 This ended the conversation at that time, and 
 we beg leave to apologize to our reader for 
 having given it in such full detail, but we think 
 it necessary to the forming of a just appreciation 
 of our hero and his mother, as it shows one phase 
 of their characters better than could have been 
 accomplished by a laboured description. 
 
 Before March Marston had attained to the age 
 of sixteen he had read aloud to his mother not 
 once, but several times the " Vicar of Wakefield," 
 " Eobinson Crusoe," the " Pilgrim's Progress," 
 the " Tales of a Grandfather," " ^Esop's Fables," 
 and a variety of tales and stories and histories of 
 lesser note all of which he stored up in a good 
 memory, and gave forth in piecemeal to his un- 
 lettered companions as opportunity offered. Bet- 
 ter than all this, he had many and many a time 
 read his Bible through, and was familiar with all 
 its leading heroes and histories and anecdotes. 
 
 Thus, it will be seen that March Marston was 
 quite a learned youth for a backwoodsman, besides 
 being a hero and a " madman." 
 
32 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Great Prairie A Wild Chase A Remarkable Accident 
 and an Extraordinary Charger, all of which terminate in 
 a Crash Bounce talks Philosophy and tells of terrible 
 Things Our Hero determines to beard the Wild Man 
 of the West in his own Den. 
 
 THE rising sun lifted his head above the horizon 
 of the great western prairie, gilding the upper 
 edges of those swelling undulations that bear so 
 strong a resemblance to solidified billows as to 
 have acquired the name of prairie- waves. 
 
 On the sunny side of these waves the flowrets 
 of the plains were already basking in full en- 
 joyment of the ne\v day ; on the summits only 
 the tips of their petals were turned to gold. On 
 the other, side of those waves, and down in the 
 hollows, everything was clothed in deep shadow, 
 as if the still undissipated shades of night were 
 lingering there, unwilling or unable to depart 
 from so beautiful a scene. This mingling of strong 
 lights and deep shadows had the effect of render- 
 ing more apparent the tremendous magnitude of 
 those vast solitudes. 
 
 There were no trees within the circuit of vision, 
 but there were a few scattered bushes, so low 
 and insignificant in appearance as to be quite 
 
THE PRAIRIE HEN. 13 
 
 unobvious to the eye, except when close to the 
 feet of the spectator. Near to a clump of these 
 bushes there stood two horses motionless, as if 
 chiselled in stone, and with their heads drooping 
 low, as if sound asleep. Directly under the noses 
 of these horses lay two men, each wrapped in a 
 blanket, with his head pillowed on his saddle, and 
 his rifle close at his side. Both were also sound 
 asleep. 
 
 About a mile distant from the spot on which 
 those sleepers rested, there grew another small 
 bush, and under its sheltering boughs, in the 
 snuggest conceivable hole, nestled a grouse, or 
 prairie-hen, also sound asleep, with its head lost 
 in feathers, and its whole rotund aspect convey- 
 ing the idea of extreme comfort and good living. 
 Now, we do not draw the reader's attention to 
 that bird because of its rarity, but because of the 
 fact that it was unwittingly instrumental in influ- 
 encing the fortunes of the two sleepers above 
 referred to. 
 
 The sun in his upward march overtopped a 
 prairie-wave, and his rays, darting onward, struck 
 the bosom of the prairie-hen, and awoke it. 
 Looking up quickly with one eye, it seemed to 
 find the glare too strong, winked at the sun, and 
 turned the other eye. With this it winked also, 
 then got up, flapped its wings, ruffled its feathers, 
 and, after a pause, sprang into the air with that 
 violent wliirr-r which is so gladdening, yet so 
 
14 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 startling, to the ear of a sportsman. It was 
 instantly joined by the other members of the 
 covey to which it belonged, and the united flock 
 went sweeping past the sleeping hunters, causing 
 their horses to awake with a snort, and them- 
 selves to spring to their feet with the alacrity of 
 men who were accustomed to repose in the midst 
 of alarms, and with a grunt of surprise. 
 
 "Prairie-hens," muttered the elder of the two, 
 a big, burly backwoodsman, as he turned 
 towards his companion, with a quiet smile. " It 
 was very thoughtful on 'em to rouse us, lad, 
 considerm* the work that lies before us." 
 
 " I wish, with all my heart, they didn't rise 
 quite so early," replied the younger man, also a 
 stout backwoodsman, who was none other than 
 our hero March Marston himself; " I don't ap- 
 prove of risin' until one wakes in the course of 
 nature ; d'ye see, Bounce ? ' ; 
 
 " I hear ; but we can't always git things to go 
 'xactly as we approves of," replied Bounce, stoop- 
 ing down to arrange the embers of the previous 
 night's fire. 
 
 Bounce's proper name was Bob Ounce. He 
 styled himself, and wrote himself (for he could 
 write to the extent of scrawling his own name in 
 angularly irregular large text), " B. Ounce." His 
 comrades called him " Bounce." 
 
 " You see, March," continued Bounce, in a 
 quiet way, thrusting his rugged countenance close 
 
15 
 
 to the embers occasionally, and blowing up the 
 spark which he had kindled by means of flint, 
 steel, and tinder " you see, this is a cur'ous 
 wurld; it takes a feelosopher to onderstand it 
 c'rectly, and even he don't make much o't at the 
 best. But I've always noticed that w'en the time 
 for wakin' up's come, we've got to wake up 
 whether we like it or no ; d'ye see, lad ? " 
 
 "I'd see better if you didn't blow the ashes 
 into my eyes in that way," answered March, laugh- 
 ing at the depth of his companion's philosophical 
 remark. " But I say, old chap " (March had no 
 occasion to call him " old chap," for Bounce was 
 barely forty), " what if we don't fall in with a 
 herd?" 
 
 " Then we shall have to go home without meat, 
 that's all," replied Bounce, filling and lighting 
 his pipe. 
 
 " But I promised my mother a buffalo-hump 
 in less than three days, and the first day and 
 night are gone." 
 
 "You'd no right to promise your mother a 
 hump," returned the plain-spoken and matter-of- 
 fact hunter. " Nobody shud never go to promise 
 what they can't perform. I've lived, off an' on, 
 nigh forty years now, and I've obsarved them wot 
 promises most always does least ; so if you'll take 
 the advice of an oldish hunter, you'll give it up, 
 lad, at once." 
 
 " Humph ! " ejaculated March, " I suppose you 
 
]6 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 began your obsarvations before you were a year 
 old, eh, Bounce ? " 
 
 " I began 'em afore I was a day old. The first 
 thing I did in this life was to utter an 'orrible 
 roar, and I obsarved that immediately I got a 
 drink ; so I roared agin, an 5 got another. Least- 
 wise Fve bin told that I did, an' if it wasn't 
 obsarvation as caused me for to roar w'en I 
 wanted a drink, wot wos it ? " 
 
 Instead of replying, March started up, and 
 shading his eyes with his right hand, gazed in- 
 tently towards the horizon. 
 
 " Wot now, lad ? " said Bounce, rising quickly. 
 "Ha! buffaloes!" 
 
 In half a minute the cords by which the two 
 horses were fastened to pegs driven into the plain, 
 were coiled up ; in another half-minute the saddle- 
 girths were buckled; in half a second more the 
 men were mounted and tearing over the prairie 
 like the wind. 
 
 " Ha, lad," remarked Bounce, with one of his 
 quiet smiles for he was a pre-eminently quiet 
 man, " but for them there prairie-hens we'd ha' 
 slept this chance away." 
 
 The buffaloes, or, more correctly speaking the 
 bisons which young Marston's sharp eye had dis- 
 covered, were still so far distant that they appeared 
 like crows or little black specks against the sky. In 
 order to approach them as near as possible without 
 attracting their attention, it was necessary that 
 
A BUFFALO CHASE. 17 
 
 the two horsemen should make a wide circuit, so 
 as to get well to leeward, lest the wind should carry 
 the scent of them to the herd. Their horses 
 being fleet, strong, and fresh, soon carried them 
 to the proper direction, when they wheeled to the 
 right, and galloped straight down upon their 
 quarry, without any further attempt at conceal- 
 ment. The formation of the ground favoured 
 their approach, so that they were within a mile of 
 the herd before being discovered. 
 
 At first the huge, hairy creatures gazed at the 
 hunters in stupid surprise ; then they turned and 
 fled. They appeared, at the outset, to run slowly 
 and with difficulty, and the plain seemed to 
 thunder with their heavy tread ; for there could 
 not have been fewer than a thousand animals in 
 the herd. But as the horsemen drew near they 
 increased their speed and put the steeds, fleet and 
 strong though they were, to their mettle. 
 
 On approaching the buffaloes the horsemen 
 separated, each fixing his attention on a particu- 
 larly fat young cow and pressing towards it. 
 Bounce was successful in coming up with the one 
 he had selected, and put a ball through its heart 
 at the first shot. Not so Marston. Misfortune 
 awaited him. Having come close up with the 
 animal he meant to shoot, he cocked his rifle and 
 held it in readiness across the pommel of his 
 saddle, at the same time urging his horse nearer, 
 
 c 
 
18 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 in order to make a sure shot. When the horse 
 had run up so close that its head was in line with 
 the buffalo's flank, he pointed his rifle at its 
 shoulder. At that precise moment the horse, 
 whose attention was entirely engrossed with the 
 buffalo, put his left fore-foot into a badger-hole. 
 The consequence of such an accident is, usually, 
 a tremendous flight through the air on the part of 
 the rider, while his steed rolls upon the plain; 
 but on the present occasion a still more surprising 
 result followed. March Marston not only per- 
 formed the aerial flight, but he alighted with 
 considerable violence on the back of the affrighted 
 buffalo. Falling on his face in a sprawling 
 manner, he chanced to grasp the hairy mane of 
 the creature with both hands, and, with a violent 
 half-involuntary effort, succeeded in seating him- 
 self astride its back. 
 
 The whole thing was done so instantaneously 
 that he had scarce time to realize what had hap- 
 pened to him ere he felt himself sweeping com- 
 fortably over the prairies on this novel and 
 hitherto unridden steed ! A spirit of wild, un- 
 governable glee instantly arose within him ; 
 seizing the handle of the heavy hunting-whip, 
 which still hung from his right wrist by a 
 leathern thong, he flourished it in the air, and 
 brought it down on his charger's flank with a 
 crack like a pistol-shot, causing the animal to 
 wriggle its tail, toss its ponderous head, and kick 
 
A NOVEL RIDE. 19 
 
 up its heels, in a way that well-nigh unseated 
 him. 
 
 The moment Bounce beheld this curious appa- 
 rition, he uttered a short laugh, or grunt, and, 
 turning his horse abruptly, soon ranged up 
 alongside. 
 
 " Hallo, March ! " he exclaimed, " are you 
 mad, boy ? " 
 
 " Just about it," cried Marston, giving the 
 buffalo another cut with the whip, as he looked 
 round with sparkling eyes and a broad grin at the 
 hunter. 
 
 " Come, now, that won't do," said Bounce, 
 gravely. " Fm 'sponsible to your mother for you. 
 Git off now, or Fll poke ye over." 
 
 " Git off ! " shouted the youth, " how can I ? " 
 
 " Well, keep yer right leg a bit to one side, 
 an' Fll stop yer horse for ye," said Bounce, coolly 
 cocking his rifle. 
 
 " Hold hard, old fellow ! " cried Marston, in 
 some alarm ; "you'll smash my thigh-bone if you 
 try. Stay, Fll do the thing myself." 
 
 Saying this, Marston drew his long hunting- 
 knife, and plunged it into the buffalo's side. 
 
 "Lower down, lad lower down. Ye can't 
 reach the life there." 
 
 March bent forward, and plunged his knife 
 
 into the animal's side again up to the hilt ; but 
 
 it still kept on its headlong course, although the 
 
 blood flowed in streams upon the plain. The 
 
 c 2 
 
20 THE WILD MAX OF THE WEST. 
 
 remainder of the buffaloes had diverged right and 
 left, leaving this singular group alone. 
 
 " Mind your eye/' said Bounce, quickly, " she's 
 a-goin' to fall." 
 
 Unfortunately Marston had not time given 
 him to mind either his eye or his neck. The 
 wounded buffalo stumbled,, and fell to the ground 
 with a sudden and heavy plunge, sending its wild 
 rider once again on an aerial journey, which 
 terminated in his coming down on the plain so 
 violently that he was rendered insensible. 
 
 On recovering consciousness, he found himself 
 lying on his back, in what seemed to be a beauti- 
 ful forest, through which a stream flowed with a 
 gentle, silvery sound. The bank opposite rose 
 considerably higher than the spot on which he 
 lay, and he could observe, through his half-closed 
 eye-lids, that its green slope was gemmed with 
 beautiful flowers, and gilded with patches of sun- 
 light that struggled through the branches over- 
 head. 
 
 Young Marston's first impression was that he 
 must be dreaming, and that he had got into one 
 of the fairy-tale regions about which he had so 
 often read to his mother. A shadow seemed to 
 pass over his eyes as he thought this, and, looking 
 up, he beheld the rugged face of Bounce gazing 
 at him with an expression of considerable interest 
 and anxiety. 
 
 " I say, Bounce, this is jolly ! ;> 
 
21 
 
 " Is it ? " replied the hunter with a " humpli ! " 
 " If ye try to lift yer head, I guess you'll change 
 yer opinion." 
 
 Marston did try to raise his head, and did 
 change his opinion. His neck felt as if it were a 
 complication of iron hinges, which had become 
 exceedingly rusty, and stood much in need of oil. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " groaned Marston, letting his 
 head fall back on the saddle from which he had 
 raised it. 
 
 " Ah, I thought so ! " remarked Bounce. 
 
 " And is that all the sympathy you have got to 
 give me, you old savage?" said the youth, testily. 
 
 " By no means," replied the other, patting his 
 head ; " here's a drop o' water as '11 do ye good, 
 lad, and after you've drunk it, I'll rub ye down." 
 
 " Thankee for the water," said Marston, with a 
 deep sigh, as he lay back, after drinking with 
 difficulty ; " as to the rubbin' down, I'll ask for 
 that when I want it. But tell me, Bounce, what 
 has happened to me ? oh ! I remember now, 
 the buffalo cow and that famous gallop. Ha! ha! 
 ha! ho o!" 
 
 Marston's laugh terminated in an abrupt groan 
 as the rusty hinges again clamoured for oil. 
 
 " You'll have to keep quiet, boy, for a few 
 hours, and take a sleep if you can. I'll roast a 
 bit o' meat and rub ye down with fat after you've 
 eat as much of it as ye can. There's nothing like 
 beef for a sick man's inside, an' fat for his outside 
 
22 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 that's the feelosophy o' the whole matter. 
 You've almost bin bu'sted wi' that there fall ; but 
 you'll be all right to-morrow. An' you've killed 
 yer buffalo, lad, so yer mother '11 get the hump 
 after all. Only keep yer mind easy, an' I guess 
 human natur '11 do the rest." 
 
 Having delivered himself of these sentiments in 
 a quietly oracular manner, Bounce again patted 
 March on the head, as if he had been a large baby 
 or a favourite dog, and, rising up, proceeded to 
 kindle a small fire, and to light his pipe. 
 
 Bounce smoked a tomahawk, which is a small 
 iron hatchet used by most of the Indians of North 
 America as a battle-axe. There is an iron pipe- 
 bowl on the top of the weapon, and the handle, 
 which is hollow, answers the purpose of a pipe-stem. 
 
 The hunter continued to smoke, and Marston 
 continued to gaze at him till he fell asleep. When 
 he awoke, Bounce was still smoking the toma- 
 hawk in the self-same attitude. The youth might 
 have concluded that he had been asleep only a few 
 minutes and that his friend had never moved; but 
 he was of an observant nature, and noticed that 
 there was a savoury, well-cooked buffalo steak 
 near the fire, and that a strong odour of marrow- 
 bones tickled his nostrils also, that the sun no 
 longer rested on the green bank opposite. Hence, 
 he concluded that he must have slept a consider- 
 able time, and that the tomahawk had been filled 
 and emptied more than once. 
 
THE "FEELOSOPHY" OF SUPPER. 23 
 
 " Well, lad/' said Bounce, looking round, "had 
 a comf'rable nap ? " 
 
 " How did you know I was awake ? " said 
 March. "You weren't looking at me, and I 
 didn't move." 
 
 "P'r'aps not, lad; but you winked." 
 
 " And, pray, how do you know that? " 
 
 " 'Cause ye couldn't wink if ye wos asleep, an' 
 I heerd ye breathe diff'rent from afore, so I 
 know'd ye wos awake ; an' I knows that a man 
 always winks w'en he comes awake, d'ye see ! 
 That's wot I calls the feelosophy of obsarvation." 
 
 " Very good," replied Marston, " and, that 
 bein' the case, I should like much to try a little 
 of the ' feelosophy ' of supper." 
 
 " Right, lad, here you are ; there's nothin' like 
 it," rejoined Bounce, handing a pewter plate of 
 juicy steak and marrow-bones to his young com- 
 panion. 
 
 Marston attained a sitting posture with much 
 difficulty and pain ; but when he had eaten the 
 steak and the marrow-bone he felt much better; 
 and when he had swallowed a cup of hot tea (for 
 they carried a small quantity of tea and sugar 
 with them, by way of luxury), he felt immensely 
 better; and when he finally lay down for the 
 night he felt perfectly well, always excepting a 
 sensation of general batteredness about the back, 
 and a feeling of rusty-hinges-wanting-oiliness in 
 the region of the neck. 
 
24 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Now, Bounce/' said he, as he lay down and 
 pulled his blanket over his shoulder, " are the 
 horses hobbled, and the rifles loaded, and my 
 mother's hump out o' the way of wolves ? " 
 
 " All right, lad." 
 
 " Then, Bounce, you go ahead, and tell me a 
 story till I'm off asleep. Don't stop tellin' till 
 I'm safe off. Pull my nose to make sure ; and if 
 I don't say ' hallo ! ' to that, I'm all right in the 
 land of Nod." 
 
 March Marston smiled as he said this, and 
 Bounce grinned by way of reply. 
 
 " Wot'll I tell ye about, boy ? " 
 
 " I don't mind what Indians, grislies, buffaloes, 
 trappers, it's all one to me ; only begin quick, 
 and go ahead strong." 
 
 " Well, I ain't great at story-tellin' ! P'raps it 
 would be more to the p'int if I was to tell ye 
 about what I heered tell of on my last trip to the 
 Mountains. Did I ever tell ye about the feller as 
 the trappers that goes to the far North calls the 
 ' Wild Man o' the West?'" 
 
 "No; what was he?" said Marston, yawning 
 and closing his eyes. 
 
 "I dun know 'xactly wot he ivas. I'm not 
 overly sure that I even know what he is, but I 
 know wot the trappers says of him ; an' if only 
 the half o't's true, he's a shiner, he is." 
 
 Having said thus much, Bounce filled his 
 tomahawk, lighted it, puffed a large cloud from 
 
25 
 
 it, and looked through the smoke at his com- 
 panion. 
 
 March, whose curiosity was aroused, partly by 
 the novelty of the "Wild Man's" title, and 
 partly by the lugubrious solemnity of Bounce, 
 said, 
 
 " Go on, old boy." 
 
 " Ha ! it's easy to say, ' go on ; ' but if you 
 know'd the 'orrible things as is said about the 
 Wild Man o' the Mountains, p'raps you'd say, 
 ' go off.' It '11 make yer blood froze." 
 
 " Never mind." 
 
 " An' yer hair git up on end." 
 
 " Don't care." 
 
 " An' yer two eyes start out o' yer head." 
 
 "All right." 
 
 Bounce, who was deeply superstitious, looked 
 at his young friend with severe gravity for at least 
 two minutes. Marston, who was not quite so 
 superstitious, looked at his comrade for exactly 
 the same length of time, and winked with one eye 
 at the end of it. 
 
 " They says," resumed Bounce, in a deep tone, 
 " the Wild Man o' the West eats men ! " 
 
 "Don't he eat women?" inquired March, 
 sleepily. 
 
 "Yes, an' childers too. An' wot's wuss, he 
 eats 'em raw, an' they say he once swallered one 
 a little one alive, without chewin' or chokin' ! " 
 (" Horrible ! " murmured March.) " He's a dead 
 
26 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 shot, too; he carries a double-barrelled rifle 
 twenty foot long that takes a small cannon-ball. 
 I forgot to tell .ye he's a giant some o' the trap- 
 pers calls him the ' giant o' the hills/ and they 
 say he's 'bout thirty feet high some says forty. 
 But there's no gittin' at the truth in this here 
 wurld." 
 
 Bounce paused here, but, as his companion 
 made no observation, he went on in a half-solilo- 
 quising fashion, looking earnestly all the time 
 into the heart of the fire, as if he were addressing 
 his remarks to a salamander. 
 
 " Ay, he's a crack shot, as I wos savin'. One 
 day he fell in with a grisly bear, an' the brute 
 rushed at him ; so he up rifle an' puts a ball up 
 each nose" ("I didn't know a grisly had two 
 noses/' murmured March), "an' loaded agin 7 , 
 an' afore it corned up he put a ball in each eye ; 
 then he drew his knife an' split it right down the 
 middle from nose to tail at one stroke, an' cut it 
 across with another stroke; an', puttin' one quarter 
 on his head, he took another quarter under each 
 arm, an' the fourth quarter in his mouth, and so 
 walked home to his cave in the mountains 'bout 
 one hundred and fifty miles off, where he roasted 
 an' ate the whole bear at one sittin' bones, hair, 
 an' all ! 
 
 This flight was too strong for March. He burst 
 into a fit of laughter, which called the rusty 
 hinges into violent action and produced a groan. 
 
BOUNCE'S STORY. 27 
 
 The laugh and the groan together banished drow- 
 siness, so he turned on his back, and said, 
 
 te Bounce, do you really believe all that ? " 
 
 Thus pointedly questioned on what he felt to 
 be a delicate point, Bounce drew a great number 
 of whiffs from the tomahawk ere he ventured to 
 reply. At length he said, 
 
 " Well, to say truth, an 7 takin' a feelosophical 
 view o' the p'int I don't. But I believe some of 
 it. I do b'lieve there's some 'xtraord'nary critter 
 in them there mountains for Fve lived nigh forty 
 years off and on in these parts, an' I've always 
 obsarved that in this wurld whenever ye find any- 
 thin 3 ye've always got somethin 3 . Nobody never 
 got hold o' somethin' an' found afterwards that it 
 wos nothin'. So I b'lieve there's somethin' in 
 this wild man how much I dun know." 
 
 Bounce followed up this remark with a minute 
 account of the reputed deeds of this mysterious 
 creature, all of which were more or less marvel- 
 lous ; and at length succeeded in interesting his 
 young companion so deeply, as to fill him with a 
 good deal of his own belief in at least a wild 
 something that dwelt in the heart of the Rocky 
 Mountains. 
 
 After a great deal of talk, and prolonged dis- 
 cussion, Bounce concluded with the assertion that 
 " he'd give his best rifle, an' that was his only 
 one, to see this wild man." 
 
 To which Marston replied, 
 
28 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is, Bounce, I will see this 
 wild man, if it's in the power of bones and muscles 
 to carry me within eyeshot of him. Now, see if 
 I don't." 
 
 Bounce nodded his head and looked sagacious, 
 as he said, 
 
 " D'ye know, lad, I don't mind if I go along 
 with ye. It's true, I'm not tired of them parts 
 hereabouts and if I wos to live till I couldn't 
 see, I don't think as ever I'd git tired o' the spot 
 where my father larned me to shoot an' my 
 mother dandled me on her knee ; but I've got a 
 fancy to see a little more o' the wurld, 'specially 
 the far off parts o' the Rocky Mountains, w'ere 
 I've never bin yit ; so I do b'lieve if ye wos to try 
 an' persuade me very hard I'd consent to go along 
 with ye." 
 
 " Will you, though ? " cried March, eagerly 
 (again, to his cost, forgetting the rusty hinges) . 
 
 "Ay, that will I, boy," replied the hunter; 
 "an' now I think on it, there's four as jolly 
 trappers in Pine Point settlement at this here 
 moment, as ever floored a grisly or fought an 
 Injun. They're the real sort of metal. None o' 
 yer tearin', swearin', murderin' chaps, as thinks 
 the more they curse the bolder they are, an' the 
 more Injuns they kill the cliverer they are ; but 
 steady quiet fellers, as don't speak much, but does 
 a powerful quantity ; boys that know a deer from 
 a Blackfoot Injun, I guess; that goes to the 
 
THE TRAPPERS. 29 
 
 mountains to trap and comes back to sell their 
 skins, an' w'en they've sold 'em, goes right off 
 agin, an' niver drinks." 
 
 " I know who you mean, I think ; at least I 
 know one of them/' observed March. 
 
 " No ye don't, do ye ? Who ? " 
 
 "Waller, the Yankee." 
 
 " That's one," said Bounce, nodding : " Big 
 Waller, we calls him." 
 
 "I'm not sure that I can guess the others. 
 Surely Tim Slater isn't one ? " 
 
 " No ! " said Bounce, with an emphasis of tone 
 and a peculiar twist of the point of his nose that 
 went far to stamp the individual named with a 
 character the reverse of noble. " Try agin." 
 
 " I can't guess." 
 
 " One's a French Canadian," said Bounce ; " a 
 little chap, with a red nose an' a pair o' coal- 
 black eyes, but as bold as a lion." 
 
 " I know him," interrupted March ; " Gibault 
 Noir Black Gibault, as they sometimes call him. 
 Am I right?" 
 
 " Right, lad ; that's two. Then there's Hawk's- 
 wing, the Injun whose wife and family were all 
 murdered by a man of his own tribe, and who 
 left his people after that an' tuck to trappin' with 
 the whites ; that's three. An' there's Redhand, 
 the old trapper that's bin off and on between this 
 place and the Rocky Mountains for nigh fifty 
 years, I b'lieve." 
 
30 THE WILD MAN OP THE WEST. 
 
 " Oh, I know him well. He must be made 
 of iron, I think, to go through what lie does at 
 his time of life. I wonder what his right name 
 is?" 
 
 " Nobody knows that, lad. You know, as well 
 as I do, that he wos called Redhand by the Injuns 
 in consekence o' the lot o' grislies he's killed in 
 his day ; but nobody never could git at his real 
 name. PYhaps it's not worth gittin' at. Now, 
 them four '11 be startin' in a week or two for 
 the mountains, an' wot's to hinder us a jinin' of 
 them?" 
 
 To his own question Bounce, after a pause, 
 replied with deliberate emphasis, "Nothin' what- 
 somedivir;" and his young companion heartily 
 echoed the sentiment. 
 
 Exactly thirty-six hours after the satisfactory 
 formation of the above resolution, March Marston 
 galloped furiously towards the door of his mother's 
 cottage, reined up, leaped to the ground, seized 
 the buffalo hump that hung at his saddle-bow, 
 and entered with a good deal of that impetuosity 
 that had gone far to procure for him the title of 
 madman. Flinging the bloody mass of meat on 
 the floor he sat down on a chair, and said 
 
 " There, mother." 
 
 "Well, you are a clever fellow/' said Mrs. 
 Marston, drying her hands (for she had been 
 washing dishes), and giving her son a hearty kiss 
 on the forehead. 
 
MARCH MAKSTON'S PROMISE. 31 
 
 " Clever or not clever, mother, Tin off to the 
 Rocky Mountains in two days." 
 
 Mrs. Marston was neither dismayed nor sur- 
 prised. She was used to that sort of thing, and 
 didn't mind it. 
 
 " What to do there, my boy ?" 
 
 " To see the Wild Man o' the West/ 7 
 
 " The what?" 
 
 " The Wild Man o' the West, mother." 
 
 It is needless to try our reader's patience with 
 the long conversation that followed. March had 
 resolved to preach a discourse with the " Wild 
 Man o' the West " for his text, and he preached 
 so eloquently that his mother (who was by no 
 means a timid woman) at length not only agreed 
 to let him go, but commended him for his reso- 
 lution. The only restraint she laid upon her 
 son had reference to his behaviour towards the 
 Wild Man, if he should happen to meet with 
 him. 
 
 " You may look at him, March (Mrs. Marston 
 spoke of him as if he were a caged wild beast!), 
 and you may speak to him, but you must not 
 fight with him, except in self-defence. If he lets 
 you alone, you must let him alone. Promise me 
 that, boy." 
 
 " I promise, mother." 
 
 Not long after this promise was made, a light 
 bark-canoe was launched upon the river, and into 
 it stepped our hero, with his friend Bounce, and 
 
32 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 Big Waller, Black Gibault, HawkVwing, and 
 Redhand, the trappers. A cheer rang from the 
 end of the little wharf at Pine Point, as the frail 
 craft shot out into the stream. The wild woods 
 echoed back the cheer, which mingled with the 
 lusty answering shout of the trappers as they 
 waved their caps to the friends they left behind 
 them. Then, dipping their paddles with strong 
 rapid strokes, they headed the canoe towards the 
 Rocky Mountains, and soon disappeared up one of 
 those numerous tributary streams that constitute 
 the head-waters of the Missouri river. 
 
IN THE -\YILDERNESS. 33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Beauties of the Wilderness Portages Philosophy of 
 Settling Down An Enormous Footprint Supper pro- 
 cured, and a Bear-hunt in prospect. 
 
 AFTER paddling, and hauling, and lifting, and 
 tearing, and wading, and toiling, and struggling, 
 for three weeks, our hero and his friends found 
 themselves deep in the heart of the unknown 
 wilderness unknown, at least, to the civilized 
 world, though not altogether unknown to the 
 trappers and the Red Indians of the Far West. 
 
 There is something inexpressibly romantic and 
 captivating in the idea of traversing those wild 
 regions of this beautiful world of ours which 
 have never been visited by human beings, with 
 the exception of the few wandering savages who 
 dwell therein. 
 
 So thought and felt young Marston, one 
 splendid afternoon, as he toiled up to the summit 
 of a grassy mound with a heavy pack on his 
 shoulders. Throwing down the pack, he seated 
 himself upon it, wiped his heated brow with the 
 sleeve of his hunting-shirt, and gazed with delight 
 upon the noble landscape that lay spread out 
 before him. 
 
 " Ha ! that's the sort o' thins that's it \" Le 
 
34 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 exclaimed, nodding his head, as if the rich and 
 picturesque arrangement of wood and water had 
 been got up expressly for his benefit, and he were 
 pleased to signify his entire approval of it. 
 
 "That's just it," he continued, after a short 
 contemplative pause, "just what I expected to find. 
 Ain't I glad? eh!" 
 
 March certainly looked as if he was; but, 
 being at that moment alone, no one replied to 
 his question or shared his enjoyment. After 
 another short pause he resumed his audible 
 meditations. 
 
 " Now, did ever any one see sich a place as this 
 in all the wide 'arth? That's what I want to 
 know. Never ! Just look at it now. There's 
 miles an' miles o 3 woods an' plains, an' lakes, an' 
 rivers, wherever I choose to look all round me. 
 And there are deer, too, lots of 'em, lookin' quite 
 tame, and no wonder, for I suppose the fut of 
 man never rested here before, except, maybe, the 
 fut of a redskin now an' again. And there's pop- 
 lars, an' oaks, an' willows, as thick as they can 
 grow." 
 
 March might have added that there were also elm, 
 and sycamore, and ash, and hickory, and walnut, 
 and cotton-wood trees in abundance, with nume- 
 rous aspen groves, in the midst of which were 
 lakelets margined with reeds and hare-bells, and 
 red willows, and wild roses, and choke-berries, 
 and prickly pears, and red and white currants. 
 
THE FOOTPRINT OP A GRISLY. 35 
 
 He might, we say, have added all this, and a 
 great deal more, with perfect truth; but he 
 didn't, for his knowledge of the names of such 
 things was limited, so he confined himself, like a 
 wise youth, to the enumeration of those things 
 that he happened to be acquainted with. 
 
 4f And," continued March, starting up and 
 addressing his remark to a hollow in the ground 
 a few yards off, " there's grisly bars here, too, 
 for there's the fut-mark of one, as sure as I'm a 
 white man ! " 
 
 Most people would have been inclined to differ 
 with March in regard to his being a white man, 
 for he was as brown as constant exposure in hot 
 weather could make him ; but he referred to his 
 blood rather than to his skin, which was that of 
 white parents. 
 
 The footprint which he had discovered was, 
 indeed, that of a grisly bear, and he examined it 
 with more than usual interest, for, although many 
 of those ferocious denizens of the western woods 
 had been already seen, and a few shot by the 
 trappers on their voyage to this point, none had 
 been seen so large as the monster whose foot- 
 print now attracted Marston's attention. The 
 print was eleven inches long, exclusive of the 
 claws, and seven inches broad. 
 
 While March was busily engaged in examining 
 it, Black Gibault came panting up the hill with a 
 huge pack on his back. 
 
 D 2 
 
36 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Ho ! March, me garcon, v'at you be find 
 la?" cried the Canadian, throwing down his pack, 
 and advancing. 
 
 "A bar, Gibault; Caleb himself. A regular 
 big un, too. Just look here/' 
 
 ee Ah ! oui, vraiment ; dat am be one ex- 
 tonishin 3 vopper, sure 'nuff. Mais, him's gone 
 pass long ago, so you better come avay an' finish 
 de portage." 
 
 " Not I, lad," cried March, gaily, as he flung 
 himself upon the grassy mound ; " Fm goin' to 
 admire this splendid country till Fm tired of it, 
 and leave you and the other fellows to do the 
 work." 
 
 " Oh ! ver' goot," replied Gibault, sitting down 
 beside our hero, and proceeding to fill his pipe, 
 " I will 'mire de contray, too, Ha ! it be un- 
 markibly beautiful specially when beholded troo 
 one cloud of tabacco smoke." 
 
 "Alas ! Gibault, we'll have to move off sooner 
 than we expected, for there it comes." 
 
 The two friends leaped up simultaneously, and, 
 seizing their packs, hurried down the mound, 
 entered the thick bushes, and vanished. 
 
 The object whose sudden appearance had occa- 
 sioned this abrupt departure would, in truth, have 
 been somewhat singular, not to say alarming, in 
 aspect, to those who did not know its nature. At 
 a distance, it looked like one of those horrible 
 antediluvian monsters one reads of, with a lank 
 
BIG WALLER Ctr GUESSES." 37 
 
 body, about thirty feet long. It was reddish 
 yellow in colour, and came on at a slow crawling 
 pace, its back appearing occasionally above the 
 underwood. Presently its outline became more 
 denned, and it turned out to be a canoe instead 
 of an antediluvian monster, with Big Waller and 
 Bounce acting the part of legs to it. Old Red- 
 hand, the trapper, and Hawkswirig, the Indian, 
 walked alongside, ready to relieve their comrades 
 when they should grow tired, for a large canoe 
 is a heavy load for two men, or to assist them 
 in unusually bad places, or to support them 
 and prevent accidents, should they chance to 
 stumble. 
 
 " Have a care now, lad, at the last step," said 
 Redhand, who walked a little in advance. 
 
 "Yer help would be better than yer advice, 
 old feller," replied Bounce, as he stepped upon 
 the ridge or mound which Marston and his com- 
 panion had just quitted. " Lend a hand; we'll 
 take a spell here. I do believe my shoulder's out 
 o' joint. There, gently, that's it." 
 
 " Wall, I guess this is Eden," cried Big Waller, 
 gazing around him with unfeigned delight. "Least- 
 wise, if it ain't, it must be the very nixt location 
 to them there diggins of old father Adam. Ain't 
 it splendifferous ? " 
 
 Big Waller was an out-and-out Yankee trapper. 
 It is a mistake to suppose that all Yankees 
 " guess " and " calculate," and talk through their 
 
38 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 noses. There are many who don't, as well as 
 many who do ; but certain it is that Big Waller 
 possessed all of these peculiarities in an alarming 
 degree. Moreover, he was characteristically thin, 
 and tall, and sallow. Nevertheless, he was a 
 hearty, good-natured fellow, not given to hoasting 
 so much as most of his class, but much more 
 given to the performance of daring deeds. In 
 addition to his other qualities, the stout Yankee 
 had a loud, thundering, melodious voice, which he 
 was fond of using, and tremendous activity of 
 body, which he was fond of exhibiting. 
 
 He was quite a contrast, in all respects, to his 
 Indian companion, Hawkswing, who, although 
 about as tall, was not nearly so massive or power- 
 ful. Like most North American Indians, he was 
 grave and taciturn in disposition; in other re- 
 spects, there was nothing striking about him. 
 He was clad, like his comrades, in a trapper's 
 hunting shirt and leggings; but he scorned to 
 use a cap of any kind, conceiving that his thick, 
 straight black hair was a sufficient covering, as, 
 undoubtedly, it was. He was as courageous as 
 most men ; a fair average shot, and, when occa- 
 sion required, as lithe and agile as a panther ; but 
 he was not a hero; few savages are. He pos- 
 sessed one good quality, however, beyond his 
 kinsmen ; he preferred mercy to revenge, and did 
 not gloat over the idea of tearing the scalps off 
 
REDIIAXD. 39 
 
 liis enemies, and fringing liis coat and leggings 
 therewith. 
 
 " 'Tis a sweet spot/'' said Redhand to his com- 
 rades, who stood or reclined in various attitudes 
 around him. {e Such a place as I've often thought 
 of casting anchor in for life." 
 
 "An' why don't ye, then?" inquired Waller. 
 " If I was thinkin' o' locating down any whar', I 
 guess I'd jine ye, old man. But I'm too fond o' 
 rovin' for that yet. I calc'late it'll be some years 
 afore I come to that pint. Why don't ye build a 
 log-hut, and enjoy yerself?" 
 
 " 'Cause I've not just come to that point either," 
 replied the old man, with a smile. 
 
 Redhand had passed his best days many years 
 before. His form was spare, and his silvery locks 
 were thin ; but his figure was still tall and straight 
 as a poplar, and the fire of youth still lingered 
 in his dark blue eye. The most striking and 
 attractive point about Redhand was the extreme 
 kindliness that beamed in his countenance. A 
 long life in the wilderness had wrinkled it ; but 
 every wrinkle tended, somehow, to bring out the 
 great characteristic of the man. Even his frown 
 had something kindly in it. The prevailing aspect 
 was that of calm serenity. Redhand spoke little, 
 but he was an attentive listener, and, although 
 he never laughed loudly, he laughed often and 
 heartily, in his own way, at the sallies of his 
 
40 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 younger comrades. In youth, he must have been 
 a strikingly handsome man. Even in old age he 
 was a strong one. 
 
 " I'll tell ye what's my opinion now, boys, in 
 regard to settlin' down/' said Bounce, who, having 
 filled and lighted his pipe, now found himself in a 
 position to state his views comfortably. " Ye see, 
 settlin' down may, in a gin'ral way, be said to be 
 nonsense. In pint o' fact, there ain't no sich a 
 thing as settlin' down. When a feller sits down, 
 why, in a short bit, he's bound to rise up agin, 
 and when he goes to bed, he means for to get up 
 next mornin'." (Here Bounce paused, drew 
 several whiffs, and rammed down the tobacco in 
 his pipe with the end of his little finger.) " Then, 
 when a feller locates in a place, he's sure for to 
 be movin' about, more or less, as long as he's got 
 a leg to stand on. Now, what I say is, that when 
 a man comes to talk o' settlin' down, he's losin' 
 heart for a wanderin' life among all the beautiful 
 things o' creation, an' when a man loses heart 
 for the beautiful things o' creation, he'll soon 
 settle down for good and all. He's in a bad 
 way, he is, and oughtn't to encourage hisself 
 in sich feelin's, I b'lieve that to be the feelo- 
 sophy o' the whole affair, and I don't b'lieve 
 that nobody o' common edication I don't 
 mean school edication, but backwoods edication 
 would go for to think otherwise. Wot say you, 
 Waller?" 
 
A GRAND COUNTRY. 41 
 
 " Sartinly not/' replied the individual thus 
 appealed to. 
 
 Big Waller had a deep reverence for the sup- 
 posed wisdom of his friend Bounce. He listened 
 to his lucubrations with earnest attention at all 
 times,, and, when he understood them, usually 
 assented to all his friend said. When Bounce 
 became too profound for him, as was not unfre- 
 quently the case, he contented himself with nod- 
 ding his head, as though to say, " I'm with you 
 in heart, lad, though not quite clear in my mind ; 
 but it's all right, Fm quite sartin." 
 
 "Well, then/' resumed Bounce, turning to 
 Eedhand, " what do you think o' them sentiments, 
 old man?" 
 
 Redhand, who had been paying no attention 
 whatever to these sentiments, but, during the 
 delivery of them, had been gazing wistfully out 
 upon the wide expanse of country before him, laid 
 his hand on Bounce's shoulder, and said, in a low 
 earnest tone 
 
 " It's a grand country ! D'ye see the little 
 clear spot yonder, on the river bank, with the 
 aspen grove behind it, an' the run of prairie on 
 the right, an' the little lake not a gun-shot off on 
 the left? That's the spot I've sometimes thought 
 of locatin' on when my gun begins to feel too 
 heavy. There'll bo cities there some day. Bricks, 
 and mortar, and stone, '11 change it's face an' 
 corn-fields, an' , but not in our day, lad, not 
 
42 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 in our day. The redskins and the bears '11 hold 
 it as long as we're above ground. Yes, Fd like 
 to settle down there." 
 
 1 ' Come, come, Redhand," said Bounce, ' ' this 
 sort o' thing '11 never do. Why, you're as hale 
 and hearty as the best on us. Wot on 'arth 
 makes you talk of settlin' down in that there 
 fashion ? " 
 
 " Ha ! " exclaimed Waller, energetically, " I 
 guess if ye goes on in that style ye'll turn into a 
 riglar hiplecondrik ain't that the word, Bounce? 
 I heer'd the minister say as it was the v/ust kind 
 o' the blues. What's your opinion o' settling 
 down, Hawkswing?" 
 
 To this question the Indian gravely replied, in 
 his own language (with which the trappers were 
 well acquainted), that, not having the remotest 
 idea of what they were talking about, he enter- 
 tained no opinion in regard to it whatever. 
 
 "Well, wotiver others may hold," remarked 
 Bounce, emphatically, " I'm strong agin' settlin' 
 down nowhar'." 
 
 "So am I, out an' out," said Waller. 
 
 " Dat be plain to the naked eye," observed 
 Gibault, coming up at the moment. " Surement 
 you have settle down here for ever. Do you 
 s'pose, mes gallons, dat de canoe will carry hisself 
 over de portage ? Voila ! vat is dat ? " 
 
 Gibault pointed to the foot-print of the grisly 
 bear, as he spoke. 
 
AN EASY WAY OF GETTING SUPPER. 43 
 
 " It's a bar/' remarked Bounce, quietly. 
 
 " Caleb," added Waller, giving the name fre- 
 quently applied to the grisly bear by western 
 hunters. " I calc'late it's nothin' new to see 
 Caleb's fut in the mud." 
 
 " Mais, it be new to see hims fut so big, you 
 oogly Yankee," cried Gibault, putting Waller's 
 cap over his eyes, and running into the busli to 
 avoid the consequences. 
 
 At that moment a deer emerged from the bushes, 
 about fifty yards from the spot on which the trap- 
 pers rested, and, plunging into the river, made for 
 the opposite bank. 
 
 " There's our supper," said Bounce, quietly 
 lifting his rifle in a leisurely way, and taking aim 
 without rising from the spot on which lie sat or 
 removing the pipe from his lips. 
 
 The sharp crack was followed by a convulsive 
 heave on the part of the deer, which fell over on 
 its side and floated down stream. 
 
 Big Waller gave utterance to a roar of satisfac- 
 tion, and, flinging his pipe from him, bounded 
 down the bank towards a point of rock, where he 
 knew, from the set of the current, the deer would 
 be certain to be stranded. Gibault, forgetting his 
 recent piece of impertinence, darted towards the 
 same place, and both men reached it at the same 
 instant. Big Waller immediately lifted his little 
 friend in his huge arms, and tossed him into the 
 centre of a thick soft bush, out of which he scram- 
 
44 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 bled in time to see his comrade catch the deer by 
 the horns, as it floated past, and drag it on shore. 
 
 " Hah ! I vill pay you off von time," cried 
 Gibault, laughing, and shaking his fist at Waller. 
 Then, seizing the last bale of goods that had not 
 been carried across the portage, he ran away with 
 it nimbly up the banks of the stream. 
 
 Big Waller placed the deer on his shoulders 
 with some difficulty, and followed in the same 
 direction. 
 
 On reaching the other end of the portage, they 
 found the canoe reloaded and in the water, and 
 their comrades evincing symptoms of impatience. 
 
 " Come on, lads, come on/' cried March, who 
 seemed to be the most impatient of them all. 
 " We've seen Caleb ! He's up the river, on this 
 side. Get in ! Pie's sich a banger, oh ! " 
 
 Before the sentence was well finished, all the 
 men were in their places except Black Gibault, 
 who remained on the bank to shove off the canoe. 
 
 " Now lad, get in/' said Redland, whose usually 
 quiet eye appeared to gleam at the near prospect 
 of a combat with the fierce and much- dreaded 
 monster of the Far West. 
 
 " All right, mes gallons/' replied Gibault ; 
 " hand me mine gun ; I vill valk on the bank, an' 
 see vich vay hims go, so, adieu ! " 
 
 With a powerful push, he sent the light craft 
 into the stream, and, turning on his heel, entered 
 the woods. 
 
45 
 
 The others at once commenced paddling up the 
 river with energetic strokes. 
 
 " He's a wild fellar that," remarked Bounce, 
 after they had proceeded some distance and 
 reached a part of the stream where the current 
 was less powerful. " I'd. bet my rifle he's git the 
 first shot at Caleb ; I only hope he'll not fall in 
 with him till we git ashore,, else it may go hard 
 with him." 
 
 " So it may/' said Waller; " if it goes as hard 
 wi' Gibault as it did wi j my old comrade, Bob 
 Swan, it'll be no fun, I guess." 
 
 " What happened to him ? " asked March, who 
 was ever open-eared for stories. 
 
 " Oh, it was nothing very curious, but I guess 
 it was ' onconvanient,' as them coons from Ireland 
 says. Bob Swan went he did away right off 
 alone, all by hisself, to shoot a grisly with a old 
 musket as wasn't fit to fire powder, not to speak 
 o' ball. He was sich a desprit feller, Bob Swan 
 was, that he cut after it without takin' time to see 
 wot wos in the gun. I follered him as fast as I 
 could, hollerin' for him to stop and see if he wos 
 loaded ; but I calc'late he was past stoppin'. Wall, 
 he comes up wi' the bar suddently, and the bar 
 looks at him, and he looks at it. Then he runs 
 up, claps the gun to his shoulder, and pulls the 
 trigger; but it wos a rusty old lock, an' no fire 
 came. There was fire come from the bar's eyes, 
 though, I do guess ! It ran at him, an' he ran 
 
46 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 away. Of course Caleb soon came up, an* Bob 
 primed as he ran an' wheeled about, stuck the 
 muzzle of the old musket right into Caleb's mouth, 
 and fired. He swallered the whole charge, that 
 bar did, as if it had been a glass o' grog, and 
 didn't he cough some? Oh, no! an' he roared, 
 too, jist like this ." 
 
 Big Waller, in the excitement of his narrative, 
 was about to give a vocal illustration, when Bounce 
 suddenly extinguished him by clapping his hand 
 on his mouth. 
 
 "Hist! you wild buffalo," he said, " you'll 
 frighten off all the bars within ten miles of us, if 
 you raise your horrable trumpet ! " 
 
 " I do believe, I forgot," said the Yankee, with 
 a low chuckle, when his rnouth was released. 
 
 " Well, but what happened to Bob Swan ? " in- 
 quired March, eagerly. 
 
 " Wot happened ! I guess the bar cotched 
 him by the leg, an' smashed it in three places, 
 before you could wink, but, by good luck, I come 
 up at that moment, an' put a ball right through 
 Caleb's brains. Bob got better, but he never got 
 the right use o' his leg after that. An' we found 
 that he'd fired a charge o' small shot down that 
 bar's throat he had ! " 
 
 " Hallo ! look ! is yon Caleb ? " inquired March, 
 in a hoarse whisper, as he pointed with his paddle 
 to a distant point up the river where a dark object 
 was seen moving on the bank. 
 
ANOTHER PORTAGE. 47 
 
 " That's him/' said Bounce. " Now then, do 
 yer best, an' we'll land on the point just below 
 him/' 
 
 "That's sooner said than done/' remarked 
 Redhancl, quietly, " for there's another portage 
 between us and Caleb." 
 
 As the old man spoke, the canoe passed round 
 a low point which had hitherto shut out the view 
 of the bed of the river from the travellers, and the 
 vision of a white, though not a high, waterfall, 
 burst upon their sight, at the same moment that 
 the gushing sound of water broke upon their ears. 
 At any other time the beauty of the scene would 
 have drawn forth warm, though, perhaps, quaint 
 and pithy remarks of admiration. "Wood and 
 water were seen picturesquely mingled and diver- 
 sified in endless variety. Little islands studded 
 the surface of the river, which was so broad and 
 calm at that place as to wear the appearance of a 
 small lake. At the upper end of this lake it nar- 
 rowed abruptly, and here occurred the fall, which 
 glittered in the sun's bright rays like a cascade of 
 molten silver. The divers trees and shrubs, both 
 on the islets and on the mainland, presented, in 
 some places, the rich cultivated appearance of the 
 plantations on a well tended domain; but, in 
 other places, the fallen timber, the rank tangled 
 vegetation, and the beautiful wild flowers, showed 
 that man's hand had not yet destroyed the wild 
 beauty of the virgin wilderness. The sky above 
 
48 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 was bright and blue, with a few thin feathery 
 clouds resting motionless upon its vast concave, 
 and the air was so still that even the tremulous 
 aspen leaves were but slightly agitated, while the 
 rest of the forest's drapery hung perfectly motion- 
 less. 
 
 Complete silence would have reigned but for 
 the mellow sound of the distant fall and the sweet 
 plaintive cries of innumerable wild fowl that flew 
 hither and thither, or revelled in the security of 
 their sedgy homes. Flocks of wild geese passed 
 in constant succession overhead, in the form of 
 acute angles, giving a few trumpet notes now and 
 then, as if to advertise their passage to the far 
 north to the dwellers in the world below. Bustling 
 teal rose in groups of dozens or half-dozens as the 
 red canoe broke upon their astonished gaze, and 
 sent them, with whistling wings, up or down the 
 river. A solitary northern diver put up his long 
 neck here and there to gaze for an instant inqui- 
 sitively, and then sank, as if for ever, into the 
 calm water, to reappear long after in some totally 
 new and unexpected quarter. A napping duck or 
 two, being well-nigh run over by the canoe, took 
 wing with a tremendous splutter and a perfectly 
 idiotical compound of a quack and a roar, while 
 numerous flocks of plover, which had evidently 
 meant to lie still among the sedges and hide while 
 the canoe passed, sprang into the air at the un- 
 wonted hullabaloo, and made off, with diverse 
 
A PRONG-HORNED ANTELOPE. 49 
 
 shriek and whistle, as fast as their wings could 
 carry them. Besides these noisy denizens of the 
 wilderness, there were seen, in various places, 
 cranes, and crows, and magpies, and black terns, 
 and turkey-buzzards, all of which were more or less 
 garrulous in expressing surprise at the unexpected 
 appearance of the trappers in their wild domain. 
 And, just as the canoe drew near to the place at 
 the foot of the fall, where they meant to land and 
 make the portage, a little cabri, or prong-horned 
 antelope, leaped out of the woods, intending, 
 doubtless, to drink, caught sight of the intruders, 
 gave one short glance of unutterable amazement, 
 and then rebounded into the bush like an electrified 
 india-rubber ball. 
 
 " Now, then," said Bounce, as he leaped ashore, 
 and held the canoe steady while his comrades 
 landed, "jist be cool, an' no hurry; make the 
 portage, launch the canoe atop o' the fall, sot off 
 agin, an' then hurrah for that there grisly bar ! " 
 
50 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Gibault has an Adventure, and discovers a very strange 
 Creature in the Woods A most tremendous Bear-hunt 
 particularly described. 
 
 MEANWHILE, Black Gibault, having followed 
 the course of the river for some distance on foot, 
 struck into the woods, sought for and found the 
 track of the bear, and, looking carefully to the 
 priming of his gun, and knocking the edge of 
 the flint to sharpen it, pushed forward in pursuit 
 with the ardour of a reckless man. 
 
 Gibault Noir was a goose ! But he was an 
 amiable goose ; therefore men forgave his follies. 
 Had Gibault not been a goose he never would 
 have set off alone in pursuit of a grisly bear when 
 he had comrades who might have accompanied 
 him. Every one knows at least, if every one 
 does not know, every one who reads these pages 
 may know henceforth that the grisly bear of the 
 western prairies and Rocky Mountains is one of 
 the most desperate monsters and most dreaded 
 animals on the face of the earth; not dreaded 
 merely by the weak and timorous, but dreaded 
 also by the bravest Indians and the boldest trap- 
 pers. Of course we do not mean to say that by 
 these latter the grisly bear is dreaded with any- 
 thing like cowardly terror; but it is regarded 
 
THE GRISLY BEAR. 51 
 
 with that degree of wholesome anxiety and ex- 
 treme caution with which men usually regard an 
 excessively dangerous and powerful enemy. 
 
 Unlike other bears, the grisly bear scorns to fly 
 from before the face of man. His ferocity, when 
 wounded, is terrible, and his tenacity of life is 
 such, that, however many mortal wounds one may 
 give him, he will retain life and strength long 
 enough to kill his assailant before he himself dies, 
 unless he is shot dead at once by a ball being 
 planted in his heart or brain, both of which are 
 difficult to reach. 
 
 He has a grumpy sort of magnanimity of his 
 own, however, and will usually let men alone if 
 men will let him alone. But men are not prone 
 to let anything alone : hence encounters are fre- 
 quent ; wounds, on both sides, are numerous ; and 
 death, on one or other side, is almost certain. 
 
 Old trappers are not fond of attacking Caleb 
 single-handed, but young hot-blooded fellows, who 
 have got their names to make, are less cautious, 
 and sometimes even court the combat, as was the 
 case in the present instance with reckless Gibault 
 Noir. 
 
 For half an hour, Gibault went over the ground 
 at a sort of half-walk, half-trot, stopping occa- 
 sionally to examine the prints of the bear more 
 narrowly when they passed across hard ground 
 that did not take a good impression. At length 
 he came to a deep gully or creek where the bushes 
 E 2 
 
52 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 were so dense that he could not see far through 
 them in any direction. Here he halted, re-ex- 
 amined his priming, and, peering cautiously 
 through the underwood, advanced with mnch 
 greater deliberation and care than heretofore. 
 
 In descending the gully, Gibault stumbled once 
 or twice, and made one or two crashing bursts 
 through bushes that would have proved quite im- 
 pervious to most men. After much toil, he reached 
 the bottom, and, standing there, up to the ankles 
 in a small rivulet, gazed upward at the bank he 
 had now to ascend. 
 
 " Vraiment, it be uncommonly difficile," said he, 
 addressing himself to the task, while the per- 
 spiration began to roll down his forehead. 
 
 At last he reached the top of the bank on the 
 other side, and, after panting for some time, began 
 to look for the bear's footprints; but these could 
 not now be found. In his scramble through the 
 gully he had lost them, and the ground on the 
 side he had just reached was so hard and rocky 
 that it seemed to him doubtful whether it was 
 capable of receiving any visible impression from 
 a bear's paw. It was just possible, too, that the 
 animal had found the descent of the gully as 
 difficult as he himself had ; in which case it -was 
 highly probable that it had used the course of the 
 rivulet as a pathway. 
 
 For a moment, the little Canadian meditated a 
 second descent into the gully for the purpose of 
 
GIBAULT MAKES A DISCOVERY. 53 
 
 settling this point, but, having not yet quite 
 ceased to pant from his recent exertions, he 
 thought better of it, and determined to make a 
 further examination of the ground where he was. 
 After doing so for a quarter of an hour, his 
 exertions were rewarded by the discovery of what 
 appeared to be a track. It was not very distinct, 
 but it was sufficiently so to induce him to follow 
 it up with renewed ardour. 
 
 Presently he came upon a spot where the 
 ground was not so thickly covered with under- 
 wood, and where, in some places, it was so soft as 
 to show an exact print of the foot of the animal 
 lie was following up. Here he received a great 
 disappointment, and an equally great surprise ! 
 a disappointment on finding that the track he 
 followed was not that of a bear, and a surprise on 
 discovering that it was that of a man. 
 
 On first making this discovery, Gibault stopped 
 short, laid his gun on the ground, stooped down, 
 planted a hand on each knee, opened his eyes to 
 their utmost, pursed his lips to the tightest, and 
 stared at the footprint, the very embodiment of 
 astonishment. After a few seconds he gave vent 
 to a low whistle, and said " Ho ! " Exactly ten 
 seconds after that, he said " Ha ! " and, raising 
 his right hand, scratched the point of his nose, 
 which, being too red naturally, was not improved 
 by the operation. 
 
 None of these acts and exclamations, cither 
 
54 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 collectively or singly, seemed to afford him any 
 enlightenment, for he began to shake his head 
 slowly from side to side, as if he had come to the 
 conclusion that the whole affair was utterly beyond 
 his limited comprehension; then he started up, 
 shouldered his gun, and followed the track of the 
 man with as much ardour as he had formerly 
 pursued that of the bear. 
 
 Perseverance is almost invariably rewarded. 
 This would seem to be one of those laws of na- 
 ture which fail to operate only on very rare and 
 peculiar occasions. Gibault had not advanced 
 more than a hundred yards when he came sud- 
 denly upon the man whose feet had made the 
 tracks he had been following. 
 
 " The Vild-Man-ov-de-Vest ! certainement ! " 
 muttered Black Gibault, slowly, as he gazed at 
 the creature before him, and quietly cocked his 
 rifle to be ready for any emergency. 
 
 Certainly the man upon whom our trapper had 
 stumbled thus suddenly might have been styled 
 the wild man of any region west, north, east, or 
 south, with perfect propriety. On his legs were 
 a pair of dark grey fustian trousers, which had 
 seen so much service that, from the knee down- 
 wards, they were torn into shreds. His feet were 
 covered by a pair of moccassins. Instead of the 
 usual hunting-shirt he wore one of the yellow 
 deer-skin coats of a Blackfoot chief, which was 
 richly embroidered with beads and quilt-work, 
 
GIBAULT MEETS A STRANGER. 55 
 
 and fringed with scalp-locks. On his head he 
 wore a felt hat, with a hroad brim and a tall 
 conical crown, somewhat resembling a Spanish 
 sombrero, and beside him, on the bough of a tree, 
 hung a long blue Spanish cloak. The counte- 
 nance of this extraordinary man was handsome 
 and youthful, but wild and somewhat haggard, as 
 if from much recent suffering. His eye was black 
 and piercing, his nose aquiline, and his forehead 
 broad, but his mouth was effeminate, his chin 
 small and beardless, his neck long, his shoulders 
 narrow and sloping, and his black hair hung in 
 long straight locks over his shoulders. A short 
 sword, somewhat resembling that of the ancient 
 Roman, lay on the sward beside him, and near to 
 it a huge cavalry pistol of the olden time, with a 
 brass barrel and a bell mouth a species of minia- 
 ture blunderbuss. Its fellow was stuck in his 
 belt, beneath the chief's coat, as could be observed 
 from the appearance of the butt protruding from 
 the opening in the breast thereof. 
 
 This personage was seated on a grassy knoll so 
 absorbed in some curious kind of occupation that 
 he was totally unobservant of the presence of 
 Gibault until he had approached to within 
 thirty yards of him. Although his occupation 
 was a mystery to the trapper, to one a little more 
 conversant with the usages of civilized life, the 
 open book on the knee, the easy flow of the pencil, 
 and the occasional use of a piece of india-rubber, 
 
56 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 would have been sufficient evidence that the 
 young man was sketching the view before him. 
 
 "Ahem \" coughed Gibault. 
 
 The stranger scattered book, pencil, and india- 
 rubbe/ to the winds (or to the atmosphere, for 
 there happened to be no wind at the time), and 
 started up. In doing so, he showed that he was 
 at least a tall, if not a stout fellow. Seizing a 
 pistol with one hand and his sword with the 
 other, he presented both at Gibault, and yelled, 
 rather than shouted, " Stay ! halt ! stop now, my 
 man; drop the butt of your gun, else I'll I'll 
 blow out your brains." 
 
 Although somewhat startled by this unusual 
 mode of salutation, the trapper had sense and 
 quickness enough to perceive that the artist was 
 in anything but a warlike state of mind, and that 
 his violent demonstration was the result of having 
 been startled ; so, pulling off his cap with that 
 native politeness which is one of the character- 
 istics of the French Canadian, he advanced, and 
 said, 
 
 "Bon jour, monsieur. I ver' moch sorray dat 
 I be give you von fright. Pardon, sair ; how 
 you do ? " 
 
 "Thank you, thank you, good fellow/' re- 
 plied the artist, laying down his weapons, and 
 grasping Gibault's proffered hand with a sigh of 
 evident relief, " I am well, excellently well. You 
 did, indeed, startle me by your sudden appear- 
 
THE ARTIST OF THE WILDERNESS. 57 
 
 ance ; but no harm is done, and where none was 
 intended no apology is necessary. You are a 
 Frenchman, I think ? " 
 
 " Non, sair ; not 'xactly. I be French Cana- 
 dian. Mine fadder was be von Canadian ; mine 
 moder was aFrenchvoman ; I be leetle of both." 
 
 " And you have cause to be proud of your 
 country, my man," returned the artist, collecting 
 his scattered drawing materials and quietly sitting 
 down to continue his sketch, " a splendid coun- 
 try, and a noble people. Sit down, my good 
 friend, if you can spare time, while I put a few 
 finishing touches to this sketch." 
 
 " Mais/' said Gibault, rubbing his nose in great 
 perplexity at the coolness of this eccentric wan- 
 derer ; " Mais, monsieur, I hab not time ; I be 
 follerin' de tracks of von monstracious grisly 
 bar " 
 
 " What ! a grisly bear ? " cried the artist, look- 
 ing up with sudden animation. 
 
 " Oui, monsieur. We have see him not long 
 'go, an' hopes to kill him soon." 
 
 The artist's dark eye sparkled with animation 
 as he hastily shut up his sketch-book and thrust 
 it, with his drawing materials, into a small pocket 
 inside the breast of his coat. 
 
 " A grisly bear ! " he repeated. " Ha ! lead on, 
 good fellow, I will follow." 
 
 Thus urged, Gibault, without farther loss of 
 time, led the way to the banks of the river, fol- 
 
58 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 lowed closely by his new friend, who stalked 
 behind him with long ostrich-like strides. The 
 semi-theatrical air of the artist made a deep im- 
 pression on the trapper. Had Gibault known 
 what a theatrical air was, he might have been 
 immensely tickled ; but, being what he was, an 
 unsophisticated son of the wilderness, he knew 
 nothing about such airs, and therefore regarded 
 his companion in the light of a superior order of 
 being, or a madman ; he was not quite sure 
 which. 
 
 In a few minutes, they emerged from the 
 bushes and came out upon the bank of the river, 
 which, at that part, was high and precipitous, 
 with few trees, but a considerable quantity of 
 underwood on the slopes. 
 
 " Are you sure, friend, that a bear has been 
 seen by you ? " inquired the artist. 
 
 " Oui; most positavly sure, sair. Ha ! an' here 
 be him's fut encore. I have lose him in de vood. 
 Now, monsieur, have your pistol ready." 
 
 "Lead on," returned the artist. "I have 
 longed much for this day. To shoot an indi- 
 vidual of this ferocious class has been my am- 
 bition . Ho! friend, look here. Yonder 
 
 object seems like a canoe. Whence comes it, 
 think you ? This region, I know, is not very safe. 
 There are Indians who do not love the whites 
 in ." 
 
 "No fear, monsieur," interrupted Gibault, 
 
GIBAULT DISCOVERS THE BEAR. 59 
 
 "Dat be mine comerades Good mans an' true 
 every von. Dey come to land here, I see." 
 
 A low growl in the bushes, a little distance 
 ahead of them, put an abrupt termination to the 
 conversation. Gibault threw forward the muzzle 
 of his gun, and glanced at his comrade. The 
 glance did not tend to comfort him. The artist 
 was pale as death. This, and an occasional twitch 
 of the lip, were clear and unmistakable signs to 
 the backwoodsman that fear had taken possession 
 of his friend, and that he was not to be counted 
 on in the moment of danger. Yet there was a stern 
 knitting of the eyebrows, and a firm pressure of 
 the lips, that seemed to indicate better qualities, 
 and perplexed him not a little. 
 
 " P'raps, monsieur/' suggested Gibault, hesi- 
 tatingly, " you had better 'vait for de canoe." 
 
 " Lead on ! " said the artist, cocking both 
 pistols, and pointing with one of them to the 
 place whence the growl had issued. 
 
 Gibault elevated his eyebrows, shrugged his 
 shoulders characteristically, and, uttering the 
 single word "bien ! " walked ^quickly forward. 
 
 A few steps brought him to an open space, in 
 the midst of which the grisly bear was discovered. 
 It was seated on its haunches, looking sulkily 
 about, as if it had a suspicion that enemies were 
 tracking it. Creeping with the utmost caution 
 on his hands and knees,, Gibault got to within 
 forty yards of the monster, whose aspect at that 
 
60 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 moment was enough to try the courage of most 
 men. There was a wicked glare in his little eye, 
 as he swayed his huge body from side to side, that 
 indicated but too clearly the savage nature of his 
 disposition. Even Gibault felt a little uneasy, 
 and began to think himself a fool for having ven- 
 tured on such an expedition alone. His state of 
 mind was not improved by the sound of the 
 artist's teeth chattering in his head like cas- 
 tanets. 
 
 Taking a very long and deliberate aim at the 
 bear's heart, he pulled the trigger, but the faith- 
 less lock of his old flint-gun missed fire. Without 
 a sign of annoyance or agitation, the trapper re- 
 cocked the gun, again pulled the trigger, and 
 with the same result. Three times this occurred, 
 and at each click of the lock the bear cocked his 
 ears inquiringly. The third time, he rose and 
 sauntered slowly towards the spot where the men 
 lay concealed. 
 
 ec Stay," whispered the artist, as Gibault was 
 once more about to try his piece, after rubbing 
 the edge of his flint^with his thumb-nail, " stay, 
 I will fire." 
 
 So saying, he suddenly pointed a pistol straight 
 at the advancing monster and fired. A tremendous 
 roar followed the report. Gibault leaped up, ex- 
 claiming angrily, ff Vat foolishness! a pistol! 
 hah! 
 do so. 
 
RUNNING TOR LIFE. Ci 
 
 " Stay ! " cried the artist, who no longer trem- 
 bled, though his countenance was still ashy pale, 
 " I have another pistol." 
 
 "Does you vish to die? 33 yelled the trapper, 
 seizing his comrade by the collar. 
 
 Whether it was the yell of the man, or the 
 reiterated roar of the advancing bear, or both 
 combined, that had an effect on the artist, we 
 cannot tell, but certain it is that he sprang up 
 and darted after Gibault with astonishing rapidity. 
 Being long-legged and uncommonly supple he 
 soon passed him ; but, fast though they both ran, 
 the bear ran faster, and, having been badly cut 
 up about the face by the slugs with which the 
 pistol had been charged, his spirit was roused to 
 the utmost pitch of ferocity. 
 
 Now, while this was going on in the bush, the 
 other trappers were quietly fastening the line of 
 their canoe to a shrub that held it floating in a 
 pool of still water near the shore. No sooner did 
 the pistol-shot ring upon their ears than every 
 man seized his gun, hastily examined the priming, 
 and scrambled up the bank, which, at that spot, 
 was very steep. 
 
 Having gained the top,- they paused for one 
 instant to gaze intently at the bank of the river 
 above them, in order to ascertain the exact spot 
 to which they ought to hurry. 
 
 " I see no smoke," said [March Marston, in a 
 tone of deep anxiety. 
 
62 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Gibault' s gun didn't use for to bark in that 
 sort o' voice," observed Bounce. 
 
 " I do b'lieve that bar's got 'im," cried Big 
 Waller, bounding forward. 
 
 He had not taken a second bound when the 
 artist, flying at full speed about three hundred 
 yards up the river, burst upon the astonished 
 vision of the party. His sombrero had blown off, 
 his long hair streamed straight behind him, so 
 did the scalp locks on his coat, and so did his 
 long cloak which was fastened to his neck by a 
 clasp, and which, in his present panting and rush- 
 ing condition, well-nigh strangled him. 
 
 Before the wonder-stricken trappers had time 
 to remark on this singular apparition, or to form 
 any opinion in regard to it, poor Gibault came 
 tearing round the point like a maniac, with the 
 bear close upon his heels. This was enough. The 
 backwoodsmen no longer showed any signs of 
 surprise or hesitancy, A grisly bear was a fami- 
 liar object a comrade in imminent danger was 
 equally so. They sprang forward to meet the 
 fugitives. 
 
 By this time the cloak had so retarded and 
 strangled the poor artist that he had fallen a pace 
 or two behind Gibault, and it seemed almost 
 certain that he would fall a victim to the furious 
 bear before the trappers could kill it, for they 
 could not venture to fire at it while the fugitives 
 almost screened it from their view. As they 
 
The Artist's Narrow Escape from the Bear. P. 63 
 
THE CLOAK SAVES THE ARTIST. 63 
 
 drew near to each other the trappers almost in- 
 stinctively divided into two parties. Redhand 
 and Hawkswing went a little to the right; 
 Bounce, Waller, and our hero, diverged to the 
 left, so as to let the flying men pass between 
 them, and thus attack the bear on both sides at 
 once. 
 
 Gibault attempted to cheer as he darted 
 through the friendly line, but he could only give 
 forth a gasp. At that moment an unexpected 
 incident contributed to the deliverance of the 
 artist. The bear was within a yard of him as he 
 came up; just then the clasp of his cloak gave 
 way, and the huge garment instantly enveloped 
 the head of the bear and a considerable portion 
 of its body. It tripped, rolled over, and, in at- 
 tempting to free itself, tore the cloak to shreds. 
 
 At the same instant a volley was fired by the 
 trappers, and three balls pierced its body. None 
 of them, however, seemed to have hit a mortal 
 part, for the infuriated animal instantly rose and 
 glared from side to side in disappointed malice, 
 while the trappers who had fired were re-loading, 
 each behind a bush, with perfect coolness, but 
 with the utmost celerity. 
 
 While the bear was on the ground, the fugi- 
 tives had each sprung into the bush, and found a 
 place of concealment. Eedhand on the one side, 
 and Bounce on the other, had reserved their fire ; 
 the wisdom of this was, now shown. The bear 
 
64 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 made a rush at the bushes on one side, and in- 
 stantly received a shot from the other. It turned 
 at once to rush on the concealed enemy there, 
 but, before it had made a stride in that direction, 
 another ball was lodged in it from the opposite 
 side. The vacillations thus produced gave the 
 other trappers time to re-load, and, before it had 
 made up its mind which to attack, another volley 
 was fired, and three balls took effect, Redhancl 
 and Bounce still reserving their fire as at the 
 first. 
 
 The impotent fury of the creature was now 
 awful to behold. It was mortally wounded ; there 
 could be no doubt as to that, for the trappers 
 were all pretty good shots and knew where to 
 fire, but they had not succeeded yet in reaching 
 the seat of life. One ball had broken the bear's 
 shoulder and the blood flowed from its wounds, 
 while churned blood and foam dropped from its 
 jaws. 
 
 Before another volley could be fired it made a 
 furious rush at the three men who had kept away 
 to the left, namely, Big Waller, Bounce, and 
 March. There was no help for it ; not having 
 completed their loading, they had to drop their 
 guns and run. We have already said that these 
 three had diverged towards the river. It now 
 proved to be unfortunate that they had done so, 
 for the bank at that place jutted out into the 
 stream in such a way that it was impossible for 
 
DEATH OF THE BEAR. 65 
 
 them to avoid leaping into the river. The bank 
 overhung the stream and was fully twenty feet 
 high. Big Waller, who reached it first, hesitated 
 to take the leap. Bounce, who came next, rushed 
 violently against him, and the two went over 
 together, fell into the water with a tremendous 
 splash, and sank. March came up the instant 
 after, and sprang far out at once with a bold un- 
 hesitating spring. The bear was so close upon 
 the youth that for one moment they were both in 
 the air at the same time, but the former had not 
 gone off with a spring, he merely tumbled over, 
 half involuntarily, so that when they struck the 
 water there was at least a yard between them. 
 But this was not a long space. The superior 
 swimming powers of the bear over the man would 
 have diminished the distance to nothing in a 
 minute or so. Even as it was, the bear was within 
 six inches of Marston's heels when Hawkswing 
 and Redhand gained the edge of the bank. 
 
 Eedhand was armed with a rifle an old and 
 trusty weapon that had been the means of saving 
 his own life and the lives of comrades in many a 
 doubtful encounter with beast and with man. 
 Kneeling down, he took a rapid aim and fired. 
 The bullet sped true. It entered the back of the 
 bear's head, and the lifeless carcase floated down 
 the stream. The three men, instantly observing 
 the effect of the shot, turned round, and, swim- 
 ming towards their late enemy, laid hold of him, 
 F 
 
66 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 and dragged and pushed him with some difficulty 
 towards the shore. 
 
 Meanwhile Black Gibault, who had issued from 
 his hiding-place and had witnessed Redhand's 
 successful shot, began to caper and dance and 
 shout in the exuberance of his glee. Most men 
 are apt to suffer when they give way to extrava- 
 gant action of any kind. Gibault forgot that he 
 was on the edge of an overhanging bank. The 
 concussion with which he came to the ground 
 after the performance of a peculiarly complicated 
 pirouette broke off the edge of the bank, and he 
 was precipitated headlong into the river, just a 
 yard or so from the spot where his comrades were 
 engaged in landing the bear. 
 
 A loud laugh greeted his sudden and unex- 
 pected descent. Scrambling on shore, and laying 
 hold of the bear's tail, he exclaimed 
 
 " Hah ! mes gar9ons, heave away. I have come 
 down for to give you leetle help. Splenderous 
 bear ! Pull avay ! " 
 
 The bear was then dragged out of the water 
 and stretched upon the green sward, where for 
 some time the trappers stood round it in a pic- 
 turesque group, commenting upon its size and 
 appearance, and remarking upon the various 
 incidents of the chase. 
 
 As the exact dimensions of this particular bear 
 were taken and noted down on the spot, we will 
 give them here for the benefit of inquiring minds. 
 
DIMENSIONS OF THE BEAR. 67 
 
 It weighed, as nearly as could be guessed by men 
 who were practised in estimating weights, 600 
 pounds. On its hind legs it stood 8 feet 7 inches. 
 Bound the chest it measured 5 feet 10 inches; 
 round the neck 3 feet 11 inches. The circum- 
 ference of the thickest part of the fore leg was 
 2 feet, and the length of each of its claws was 4 
 inches. It was whity-brown in colour, and a 
 shaggier, fiercer, uglier monster could not well be 
 imagined. 
 
 "But, I say," cried Bounce, looking round 
 suddenly, " wot's come o' yon 'xtraor'nary feller 
 as " 
 
 Bounce paused abruptly, for at that moment 
 his eye fell on the " 'xtraor'nary feller " in ques- 
 tion. He was seated quietly on a large stone, not 
 many yards distant, with book on knee and pencil 
 in hand, making a rapid sketch of the party and 
 the surrounding scene ! 
 
 " Wot is he ? " inquired Bounce of Gibault, in 
 a whisper. 
 
 " I calculate," observed Waller, in a low voice, 
 at the same time touching his forehead and look- 
 ing mysterious ; " I calculate, he's noncombobble- 
 fusticated." 
 
 " Perhaps/' said Redhand, with a quiet laugh. 
 
 "Whatever he is, it's bad manners to stand 
 starin' at him," said Redhand, " so you'd better 
 go and pick up yer guns and things, while Bounce 
 and I skin this feller and cut off his claws." 
 F 2 
 
68 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 The party separated at once, and the artist, who 
 seemed a little disappointed at being thus checked 
 in his work, no sooner observed the flaying pro- 
 cess begin than he turned over the leaf of his 
 book, and began a new sketch. 
 
 Not many minutes were required for the skin- 
 ning of the bear. When it was done, it, along 
 with all the scattered things, was placed in the 
 canoe, and then Redhand, approaching the artist, 
 touched his cap and said 
 
 " You have shared our hunt to day, sir ; may- 
 hap you'll not object to share our camp and our 
 supper." 
 
 " Most willingly, my good friend," replied the 
 artist, rising and holding out his hand, which 
 the trapper shook heartily. " You seem to be 
 trappers." 
 
 " We are, sir, at your service. It's gettin' late 
 and we've a good bit to go yet, before we come to 
 the place where we mean to camp, so you'd better 
 come at once." 
 
 " Certainly ; by all means ; let us embark with- 
 out delay," replied the artist, pocketing his sketch- 
 book. 
 
 "Pardon me, sir," said Redhand with some 
 hesitation, " are you alone ? " 
 
 " I am," replied the other, sadly ; then, as if a 
 sudden thought had struck him "I had two 
 pistols and a cloak once." 
 
 " We've picked 'em up, sir. They're in the 
 
THE ARTIST ACCOMPANIES THE TRAPPERS. 69 
 
 canoe now. At least the pistols are, an' what's 
 left o' the cloak." 
 
 " Ha ! 'twas an old and cherished friend ! Are 
 you ready ? " 
 
 " All ready, sir." 
 
 So saying, the old man led the way to the canoe 
 and embarked with his strange companion. Then, 
 pushing out into the stream just as the shades of 
 night began to descend upon the wilderness, the 
 trappers paddled swiftly away, wondering in their 
 hearts who and what the stranger could be, and 
 talking occasionally in subdued tones of the chief 
 incidents of the exciting combat through which 
 they had so recently passed. 
 
70 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Fiery Remarks and Cogitations Round the Camp-fire The 
 Artist gives an Account of Himself Value of a Sketch- 
 Book Discoveries and Dark Threats The Bears'-claw 
 Collar. 
 
 THERE is no doubt whatever that a western trap- 
 per knows how to make a fire. That is an 
 axiomatic certainty. He also knows how to enjoy 
 it. He is thoroughly conversant with it in all its 
 phases, and with all the phenomena connected 
 with it, from the bright little spark that flies 
 from his flint and steel and nestles on his piece of 
 tinder, to the great rolling flame that leaps up 
 among the branches of the forest trees, roaring 
 lustily as it goes out upon the night air, like a 
 mighty spirit set free from some diminutive prison- 
 house, rejoicing in being once more permitted to 
 reassume its original grand dimensions. 
 
 Yes, a western trapper has a grand, a massive 
 notion of a fire, and his actions are all in keeping 
 with that notion. Almost everything is small at 
 the fountain. A mighty river usually begins in a 
 bubbling spring or a tiny rivulet. So the trapper's 
 initial acts are delicate. He handles the tinder 
 gently, and guards it from damp. He fosters the 
 spark, when caught, and blows upon it softly, and 
 
71 
 
 wraps it up in dry grass, and watches it intently 
 as a mother might watch the life-spark of her 
 new-born babe. But when once the flame has 
 caught, and the bundle of little dry twigs has 
 been placed above it, and the pile of broken sticks 
 has been superadded, the trapper's character is 
 changed. He grasps the ponderous hatchet, and, 
 Homerically speaking, 
 
 Now toils the hero : trees on trees o'erthrown, 
 Fall crackling round him, and the forests grouu. 
 
 These, " lopp'd and lightened of their branchy 
 load/' lie assaults singly. Heaving the huge axe 
 with lusty sweeping blows, he brings it down. 
 Great wedgy splinters fly and strew the plain like 
 autumn leaves. Then, with massive logs, full six 
 feet long, he feeds the hungry fire until it leaps 
 and roars in might, and glows full red and hot 
 and huge enough to roast him a bison bull for 
 supper, an he should feel so disposed. 
 
 Descending now from the abstract to the con- 
 crete, we would remark that, whether the reader 
 does or does not admit the general proposition, 
 that western trappers are pre-eminently up to fire 
 (not to mention smoke or snuff), he cannot deny 
 the fact that Big Waller, the Yankee trapper, was 
 peculiarly gifted in that way. On the evening of 
 the day on which occurred the memorable en- 
 counter with the grisly bear, as related in the last 
 chapter, that stalwart individual heaved his pon- 
 
72 TEE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 derous axe and felled the trees around him in a 
 way that would have paled the ineffectual fires of 
 Ulysses himself, and would probably have induced 
 that hero not only to cease cutting trees, but to 
 commence cutting his stick thenceforth from the 
 field of competition ! March Marston meanwhile 
 kindled the spark and nursed the infant flame. 
 The others busied themselves in the various occu- 
 pations of the camp. Some cut down pine 
 branches, and strewed them a foot deep in front 
 of the fire, and trod them down until a soft elastic 
 couch was formed on which to spread their blan- 
 kets. Others cut steaks of venison and portions 
 of the grisly bear, and set them up on the end of 
 sticks before the fire to roast, and others made 
 fast and secured the canoe and her lading. 
 
 The artist, seating himself beside the fire, just 
 near enough to profit by the light, but far enough 
 away to obtain a general view of everything and 
 everybody, proceeded with enthusiasm to sketch 
 the whole affair, collectively and in detail. He 
 devoted his chief attention, however, to Big 
 Waller. He " caught" that gigantic Yankee in 
 every conceivable action and attitude. He photo- 
 graphed him, we might almost say, with his legs 
 apart, the hatchet high above his head, and every 
 muscle tense and rigid, preliminary to a sweeping 
 blow. He " took " him with a monstrous pile of 
 logs on his brawny shoulder; he portrayed him 
 resting for a moment in the midst of his toil ; he 
 
SUPPER IN THE WILDERNESS. 73 
 
 even attempted to delineate him tumbling over one 
 of the logs and hurling a shoulder-load upon the 
 ground ; but he failed utterly in the last attempt, 
 being quite destitute of comical perception, and 
 he did not finally conclude until Gibault went 
 forward and informed him that supper was ready. 
 Then he shut up his book, and, taking his place 
 beside the trappers, began supper. 
 
 "This is comfortable this is pleasant/' re- 
 marked the artist, as he sat down before the 
 warm blaze, and applied himself with infinite 
 relish to the venison-steak placed before him by 
 Bounce. " You live well here it would seem." 
 
 This latter remark was addressed to Hawkswing, 
 who sat close beside him ; but that imperturbable 
 worthy shook his head gravely. 
 
 " He don't understand ye," interposed Bounce, 
 " knows nothin' but his own mother tongue. We 
 do live pretty middlin' so so hereabouts when we 
 ain't starvin', w'ich it isn't for me to deny is 
 sometimes the case, d'ye see." 
 
 Bounce stopped his own talk at this point by 
 stuffing his mouth so full of meat that no word, 
 not even a word of one syllable, could have forced 
 itself out, had it tried ever so much. A long 
 silence now ensued, during which the clack of 
 seven pairs of active jaws was the only sound 
 that broke upon the ear. It might have been 
 observed, however, that all eyes were fixed more 
 or less wonderingly on the stranger. Big Waller 
 
74 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 in particular looked him, figuratively speaking, 
 through and through. He did not remove his 
 eyes off him for an instant, but devoured his food 
 with somewhat the expression of a dog that 
 expects his bone to be snatched from him. 
 
 "Try a duck," said March Marston to the 
 artist, observing that he had finished his steak. 
 
 "Thank you," answered the artist, accepting 
 the proffered bird, which happened to be a teal, 
 and beginning to carve it with a pen-knife. He 
 had no fork, but used the fingers of his left hand 
 instead. 
 
 Silence again ensued. 
 
 " Try another," said March again. 
 
 The artist hesitated. 
 
 " You'd better; it's a fat un." 
 
 " N no. No ! " said the artist, shutting up 
 his knife with an air of decision. " No, thank 
 you, I always advocate moderation, and it would 
 
 ill become me to set an example of glut ah, 
 
 of the reverse." 
 
 "Wai, stranger," said Waller, who, having 
 finished eating, wiped his mouth with a tuft of 
 grass, and began to fill his pipe. " You do come 
 out in the way o' moderation rather powerful. 
 Why a teal -duck an' a ven'son steak is barely 
 enough to stop a feller dyin' right off. I guess a 
 down-east baby o' six months old 'ud swab up 
 that an' ax for more." 
 
 "Nevertheless it is quite enough for me," 
 
A SMALL BREAKFAST. 75 
 
 replied the artist, leaning down on his elbow. 
 " I could, indeed, eat more ; but I hold that man 
 should always rise from table capable of eating 
 more, if required." 
 
 Here was a proposition that it had not entered 
 into the minds of the trappers, even in their most 
 transcendental efforts of abstruse meditation, to 
 think of ! They gazed at each other in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 "Wot ! not eat yer fill w'en ye git the chance/' 
 exclaimed Bounce. 
 
 " No, certainly not." 
 
 "I say, stranger, when did you feed last?" 
 inquired Big Waller. 
 
 " Why do you ask ? " said the artist, looking 
 quickly up. 
 
 " 'Cause I wants to know." 
 
 The artist smiled. " My last meal was eaten 
 yesterday morning." 
 
 " Ha ! I vas sure ob dat," cried Gibault ; 
 " your face look like as if you be full ob starva- 
 tion." 
 
 " An' wot did ye eat last ? " inquired Bounce, 
 laying down his pipe and looking at their guest 
 with much interest not unmingled with pity. 
 
 " I breakfasted on a little bird about the size 
 of a hen's egg. I know not what it is named, 
 but it was excellently flavoured. I relished it 
 much." 
 
 On hearing this, Gibault pressed his hand on 
 
76 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 his stomach, as if the mere thought of such a 
 delicately-minute breakfast caused him pain in 
 that region. 
 
 " I say,, stranger," broke in Waller, in a tone 
 of voice that seemed to imply that he was deter- 
 mined to be at the bottom of this mystery and 
 would stand it no longer " Wot 's your name ? " 
 
 " Theodore Bertram/' replied the artist, with- 
 out hesitation. 
 
 " Where do you come from ? " 
 
 "From England/' 
 
 " Where air you agoin' to ? " 
 
 " To the Rocky Mountains/' 
 
 "Wot for to do there?" 
 
 "You are inquisitive, friend/' said Bertram, 
 smiling; "but I have no reason for concealing 
 my object in travelling here, it is to sketch, and 
 shoot, and take notes, and witness the works of 
 the Almighty in the wilderness. I hold it to be 
 an object worthy the ambition of a great man to 
 act the part of pioneer to the missionary and the 
 merchant in nature's wildest and most inacces- 
 sible regions; and although I pretend not to 
 greatness, I endeavour, humbly, to do what I 
 can." 
 
 " No one can do more than that," said Red- 
 hand, regarding the young enthusiast with interest. 
 " But surely you have not travelled to this out- 
 o'-the-way place without a guide ? " 
 
 Bertram pointed up to the stars. 
 
M011E ABOUT THE \VILD MAN. 77 
 
 " These are my guides," said he ; " the man who 
 can read the heavens needs no guide." 
 
 "But that book ain't always readable/' said 
 Redhand ; " when clouds are flying what do you 
 do then?" 
 
 " Fur-traders in the far north have taught me 
 how to ascertain the north by the bark on the 
 trees; besides this I have a bosom friend who 
 always points the way." So saying he pulled a 
 small compass from an inner pocket and held it 
 up. 
 
 " Good," rejoined Redliand ; " but a compass is 
 not food, neither will it kill game. Have you 
 nought but them pistols? " 
 
 " I have none other arms now but these, save 
 this good sword. They will serve to defend me 
 in the hour of need, I trust ; though now that I 
 have seen the grisly bear I should doubt my 
 chance of success were I to cope with him alone. 
 I should imagine that monster to be worse even 
 than the Wild Man of the West himself." 
 
 " The Wild Man o' the West ! " echoed March 
 Marston, eagerly ; " have you seen him ? " 
 
 " Nay, verily ; but I have heard of him," replied 
 the artist, smiling, "and a strangely ferocious 
 creature he must be, if all that 's said of him be 
 correct. But, to say truth, I believe the stories 
 told of him are idle tales. Indeed, I do not 
 believe there is such a man at all ! " 
 
 March Marston's countenance fell. No Wild 
 
78 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 Man of the West at all ! The bare possibility of 
 such a crushing blow to all his romantic hopes 
 and dreams caused his heart to sink. Bertram 
 observed the change in his countenance, and,, 
 quickly divining the cause, added, " But I am of 
 a sceptical turn of mind, and do not easily believe 
 unless I see. There is one thing I have observed, 
 however, which is in favour of his existence." 
 
 "What's that?" inquired March, brightening 
 up. 
 
 " That the nearer one comes to his reputed 
 dwelling-place, this wild man assumes smaller and 
 more natural proportions. I first heard of him 
 in the Red River Prairies, where he is held to be 
 a giant who devours men as well as brutes. As I 
 came nearer to the Missouri, I found that the 
 people there do not believe him to be either a 
 cannibal or a giant, but assert that he is an enor- 
 mously tall and powerful man, exceedingly fierce 
 and the sworn enemy of the whole human race ; 
 a species of Cain, whose hand is against every 
 man and every man's hand against him. The 
 last white man I met about two weeks ago 
 told me he had been with a tribe of Indians, some 
 of whom had seen him, and they said that he was 
 indeed awfully wild, but that he was not cruel, 
 on the contrary, he had been known to have per- 
 formed one or two kind deeds to some who had 
 fallen into his power." 
 
 " Most extonismV ! " exclaimed Gibault, who 
 
BERTRAM TELLS HIS STORY. 79 
 
 sat open-mouthed and open-eyed listening to this 
 account of the Wild Man of the West. 
 
 For some time the party round the camp-fire sat 
 smoking in silence, ruminating on what had been 
 said. Then Big Waller broke the silence with one 
 of his abrupt questions, 
 
 "But, I say, stranger, how did you come 
 here?" 
 
 Bertram looked up without speaking. Then, 
 settling himself comfortably in a reclining posi- 
 tion, with his back against a tree, he said, 
 
 " I will relieve your curiosity. Listen : I am, 
 as I have said, an Englishman. My father and 
 mother are dead. I have no brothers or sisters, 
 and but few relations. Possessing, as I do, a 
 small independence, I am not obliged to work for 
 my living. I have, therefore, come to the conclu- 
 sion that it is my duty to work for my fellow-men. 
 Of course, I do not mean to deny that every man 
 who works for his living, works also for his 
 fellow-men. What I mean is, that I hold myself 
 bound to apply myself to such works as other 
 men have not leisure to undertake, and the profit 
 of which will go direct to mankind without con- 
 stituting my livelihood on its passage. To open 
 up the unknown wilderness has ever been my 
 ambition. For that purpose I have come to these 
 wild regions. My enthusiasm on quitting my 
 native land was unbounded. But " 
 
 Here Bertram paused and gazed dreamily at the 
 
80 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 glowing embers of the camp-fire with an expres- 
 sion that led the trappers to infer that experience 
 had somewhat moderated his enthusiasm. After 
 a few minutes he resumed : 
 
 {C I have done wrong to make this venture alone. 
 On reaching Canada I succeeded, through the 
 kindness of the governor of the Hudson's Bay 
 Company, in obtaining a passage in one of the 
 company's canoes through that series of rivers and 
 lakes by which the fur-traders penetrate into the 
 regions of the far north. Arrived at Red River 
 Settlement,, I pushed forward on horseback over 
 the plains with a small party of horsemen to the 
 head-waters of the Saskatchwan. Here I suc- 
 ceeded in engaging a party of twelve men, com- 
 posed of half-breeds and Indians, and set out on 
 a journey of exploration over the prairies towards 
 the Rocky Mountains. Circumstances led me to 
 modify my plans. We diverged towards the south, 
 and finally came to within a few days' journey of 
 the region in which we now are. We were sud- 
 denly surprised one night by a war-party of 
 Blackfoot Indians. My men had grown careless. 
 They neglected to keep strict watch, and before 
 we were aware that danger threatened us, all our 
 horses were carried off. 
 
 "This was a terrible calamity. My men de- 
 clared that it was impossible to advance without 
 horses, and refused to accompany me any farther. 
 I remonstrated in vain, then, filled with indig- 
 
BERTRAM TELLS HIS STORY. 81 
 
 nation at their cowardice, I left them and pur- 
 sued my journey alone. Since then I have seen 
 only one man, a trapper, who was travelling south 
 to the settlements. He offered to take me with 
 him, but I declined. I felt that no great or good 
 work could ever be accomplished by the man who 
 turns back at the first disaster; so he left me. 
 I have suffered somewhat. I am, unfortunately, 
 a bad shot, and, although game is everywhere 
 abundant, I cannot kill it. I have subsisted 
 hitherto on small birds ; but my powder and lead 
 are almost expended. Had I not fallen in with 
 you I know not what I should have done/ 7 
 
 To this narrative the trappers listened with 
 respectful attention, for, despite the feelings of 
 pity almost bordering on contempt with which 
 they regarded the stranger's weapons and his 
 knowledge, or rather ignorance, of woodcraft, they 
 could not help reverencing the simple-minded 
 enthusiasm in a good cause, that had conducted 
 the artist so deep into a savage land in which he 
 was evidently unfitted, either by nature or training, 
 to travel. 
 
 " But I say, stranger/ 7 said Big Waller, " wot 
 do ye mean by openin 7 up the country ? It ain't 
 a oyster, that ye can open it up with a big knife 
 I guess." 
 
 " There, friend, you arc wrong. This country 
 does, indeed, resemble an oyster ; and I hope by 
 the aid of the mighty levers of knowledge and 
 
82 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 enterprise to open it up. I mean to take notes 
 and sketches, and, if spared, return to my native 
 land and publish the result of my observations. 
 I do not, indeed, expect that the public will buy 
 my work ; but I shall publish a large edition at my 
 own cost, and present copies to all the influential 
 men in the kingdom." 
 
 The trappers opened their eyes wider than ever 
 at this. 
 
 " "What ! Make a book ?" cried Redhand. 
 
 " Even so." 
 
 " Will it have pictures?" eagerly asked March, 
 who regarded the artist with rapidly increasing 
 veneration. 
 
 " Ay, it will be profusely illustrated." 
 
 " Wot ! pictures o' grisly bears ? " inquired 
 Bounce. 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " An' men ?" cried Big Waller. 
 
 " And men also, if I fall in with them." 
 
 "Then here's one, I guess," cried the bold 
 Yankee, combing out his matted locks hastily 
 with his fingers, and sitting up in what he con- 
 ceived to be a proper position. " Here you are, 
 sir. I'm your man ; fix me off slick. Only think ! 
 Big Waller in a book a raal book !" 
 
 He chuckled immensely at the bright prospect 
 of immortality that had suddenly opened up to him. 
 
 "I have drawn you already, friend," said 
 Bertram. 
 
THE SKETCH-BOOK AMUSES THE TKAPPEKS. 83 
 
 " Draw'd me already ? " 
 
 " Ay, there you are" he replied, handing his 
 sketch-book to the trapper, who gazed at his own 
 portrait with unmitigated satisfaction. Turning 
 over the leaf, he came unexpectedly on the like- 
 ness of Gibault, which, being a truthful repre- 
 sentation, was almost a caricature. Big Waller 
 burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at 
 this. He rolled over on his back and yelled with 
 delight. His yell being quite in keeping with his 
 body, the din was so tremendous that Bounce 
 roared 
 
 1 ' Stop yer noise, ye buffalo ! " 
 
 But Waller didn't hear him ; so March Marston 
 effected the desired object by stuffing the corner 
 of a blanket into his mouth and smothering his 
 face in its folds. 
 
 Bertram's sketch-book was now examined, and 
 for nearly an hour proved a source of the most 
 intense interest and amusement to these unso- 
 phisticated trappers. In those days few, very 
 few men of education had succeeded in penetrating 
 far into the western wilderness ; and although the 
 trappers there knew what books and pictures 
 meant, they had seen but few of them in the 
 course of their lives, and none of those few had 
 any reference to the wild country in which their 
 lives were spent. 
 
 It may be imagined, then, with what delight 
 and excitement they now, for the first time, 
 G 2 
 
84 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 belield scenes of their own beloved woods and 
 prairies, as well as their own rough forms, vividly 
 sketched by a master-hand. One of the most 
 interesting points in the inspection of the sketch- 
 book was, that old Redhand recognized almost 
 every one of the landscapes as spots with which 
 he was well acquainted; and as Bertram had 
 sketched most diligently as he travelled along, 
 Redhand told him that by the aid of that book, 
 without compass or anything else, he could trace 
 his route backward, step by step, to the Saskatch- 
 wan river. Moreover, he described to the artist 
 accurately many scenes which were near to those 
 he had sketched, and gradually fell to talking 
 about adventures and rencontres he had had in 
 many of them, so that at last it became evident 
 there would be no proposal to go to rest that night 
 at all unless some wise one of the party should 
 remind the others that another day's toil lay before 
 them in the course of a few hours. 
 
 At length they took up their pipes, which had 
 been forgotten in the excitement, and refilled them 
 with the intention, of having a last quiet whiff 
 before lying down. 
 
 "Ho!" exclaimed Redhand, who still con- 
 tinued to turn over the pages of the book, 
 "here's a face I know. Where saw ye that 
 Indian?" 
 
 " I cannot easily tell where it was we met 
 him; but I remember well that it was just a 
 
BIG SNAKE. 85 
 
 day's ride from the spot where our horses were 
 stolen." 
 
 " Were there others with him ? " 
 
 " No, he was alone/' 
 
 " Ha ! at least he said so, I fancy." 
 
 " Yes he did ; and I have no reason to doubt 
 him." 
 
 "You're not used to the ways o' the red- 
 skin, sir," replied Redhand, looking meditatively 
 at the fire. "Did he chance to mention his 
 name?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, he called himself Big Snake, at least 
 one of my men translated it so." 
 
 A significant smile overspread the old trapper's 
 face as he replied 
 
 " I thought as much. A greater thief and 
 villain does not disgrace the prairies. He's the 
 man that took yer horses ; sich a fellow as that 
 never goes about alone; he's always got a tail 
 following him as black as himself. But I'll see if 
 we can't pay the rascal off in his own coin." 
 
 " How so?" inquired Bertram. "He must be 
 far from this spot." 
 
 " Not so far as you think. I know his haunts, 
 and could take you to them in a few days over- 
 land; but it'll take longer by the river, and we 
 can't quit our canoe just now." 
 
 " But, good friend," said Bertram, quietly, " I 
 cannot presume on your hospitality so far as to 
 
8G THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 expect you to carry me along with you for the 
 purpose of redressing my wrongs." 
 
 " Make your mind easy on that pint/' returned 
 Eedhand, "we'll talk of it in the mornin'." 
 
 While the old trapper and the artist were con- 
 versing, Bounce had busied himself in stringing 
 the claws of the grisly bear on a strip of deerskin, 
 for the purpose of making a collar. A necklace 
 of this description is very highly prized among 
 Indians, especially when the claws are large. 
 
 While it was being made, Gibault sighed so 
 deeply once or twice, that March suggested he 
 must be in love. 
 
 " So I is," sighed Gibault. 
 
 " That's interesting," remarked March ; " Who 
 with?" 
 
 "Ay, that's it," said Bounce; "out with her 
 name, lad. No one ought never to be ashamed 
 o' bein' in love. It's a glorious state o' mind an' 
 body as a feller should gratilate hisself on havin'. 
 Who be ye in love wi', lad? " 
 
 " Vid dat necklace," replied Gibault, sighing 
 again heavily. 
 
 " Oh ! if that's all, ye don't need to look so 
 blue, for it's yer own by rights," said Bounce. 
 " I'm jist doin' it up for ye." 
 
 " Non ; it cannot be mine," returned Gibault. ' 
 
 "How so?" inquired Waller, "ye arned it, 
 did'nt ye ? Drew first blood I calc'late ? " 
 
87 
 
 <( Non, I not draw de fuss blood. Mais, I vill 
 hab chance again no doubt. Monsieur Bertram 
 he draw fuss blood." 
 
 "Ho, ho!" cried Waller, in surprise. "You 
 didn't tell us that before. Come, Fm glad 
 on't." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Bertram, " the necklace 
 mine ? there must be some mistake. I certainly 
 fired my pistol at the bear, but it seemed to have 
 had no effect whatever." 
 
 " Gibault," said Bounce, emphatically, " did 
 you fire at all ? " 
 
 " Non, pour certain, cause de gun he not go 
 off." 
 
 " Then," continued Bounce, handing the much- 
 coveted necklace to Bertram, " the thing b'longs 
 to you, sir, for that bar corned up wounded, an' 
 as he couldn't ha' wounded hisself, you must ha' 
 done it there." 
 
 The young man positively refused, for some 
 time, to accept of the necklace, saying, that as 
 Gibault had tracked and discovered the bear, it 
 certainly belonged to him ; but Gibault as posi- 
 tively affirmed that he would not disgrace himself 
 by wearing what belonged rightfully to another 
 man ; and as the other trappers confirmed what 
 their comrade said, Bertram was at last fain to 
 accept of a trophy which, to say truth, he was in 
 his heart most anxious to possess. 
 
 At the termination of this amicable dispute, 
 
88 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 each man rolled himself in his blanket and lay 
 down to sleep with his feet to the fire. Being in 
 a part of the country where there were very few 
 Indians, and these few on pretty good terras with 
 the white trappers, no watch was set. Bertram 
 lay down with his tattered cloak around him, and, 
 taking a little book from his pocket, read it, or 
 appeared to read it, till he fell asleep, on observ- 
 ing which, March Marston crept noiselessly to his 
 side, and, lying gently down beside him, covered 
 him with a portion of his own blanket. Ere long 
 the camp was buried in repose. 
 
FELICITY NOT PERPETUAL. 89 
 
 v CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Dangers of the Wilderness An Unexpected Catastrophe, 
 which necessitates a Change of Plans A Descent upon 
 Robbers proposed and agreed to. 
 
 THERE are few passages in Holy Writ more fre- 
 quently brought to remembrance by the incidents 
 of e very-day life than this " Ye know not what 
 a day or an hour may bring forth." The uncer- 
 tainty of sublunary things is proverbial, whether 
 in the city or the wilderness, whether among the 
 luxuriously-nurtured sons and daughters of civili- 
 zation, or among the toil-worn wanderers in the 
 midst of savage life. To each and all there is, or 
 may be, sunshine to-day and cloud to-morrow; 
 gladness to-day, sadness to-morrow. There is no 
 such thing as perpetual felicity in the world of 
 matter. A nearer approach to it may perhaps be 
 made in the world of mind; but, like perpetual 
 motion, it is not to be absolutely attained to in 
 this world of ours. Those who fancy that it is to 
 be found in the wilderness, are hereby warned, by 
 one who has dwelt in savage lands, that its habita- 
 tion is not there. 
 
 March Marston thought it was ! On the morn- 
 ing after the night whose close we have described, 
 
90 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 he awoke refreshed, invigorated, and buoyant with 
 a feeling of youthful strength and health. Start- 
 ing up, he met the glorious sun face to face, as it 
 rose above the edge of a distant blue hill, and the 
 meeting almost blinded him. There was a saffron 
 hue over the eastern landscape that caused it to 
 appear like the plains of Paradise. Lakelets in 
 the prairies glittered in the midst of verdant 
 foliage ; ponds in the hollows lay, as yet unillu- 
 mined, like blots of ink; streams and rivulets 
 gleamed as they flowed round wooded knolls, or 
 sparkled silvery white as they leaped over rocky 
 obstructions. The noble river, on the banks of 
 which the camp had been made, flowed with a 
 calm sweep through the richly-varied country 
 refreshing to look upon and pleasant to hear, as 
 it murmured on its way to join the " Father of 
 waters/' The soft roar of a far-distant cataract 
 was heard mingling with the cries of innumerable 
 water-fowl that had risen an hour before to enjoy 
 the first breathings of the young day. To March 
 Marston's ear it seemed as though all Nature, 
 animate and inanimate, were rejoicing in the 
 beneficence of its Creator. 
 
 The youth's reverie was suddenly broken by the 
 approach of Theodore Bertram. 
 
 " Good morrow, friend," said the latter, grasp- 
 ing March's hand and shaking it heartily. " You 
 are early astir. Oh, what a scene ! What heavenly 
 colours ! What a glorious expanse of beauty ! " 
 
THE WILD ROSE. 91 
 
 The artist's hand moved involuntarily to the 
 pouch in which he was wont to carry his sketch- 
 book, but he did not draw it forth; his soul was 
 too deeply absorbed in admiration to permit of his 
 doing aught but gaze in silence. 
 
 " This repays my toils/' he resumed, solilo- 
 quizing rather than speaking to March. "'Twere 
 worth a journey such as I have taken, twice re- 
 peated, to witness such a scene as this." 
 
 "Ay, aint it grand?" said March, delighted to 
 find such congenial enthusiasm in the young 
 painter. 
 
 Bertram turned his eyes on his companion, and, 
 in doing so, observed the wild rose at his side. 
 
 " Ah ! sweet rose," he said, stooping eagerly 
 down to smell it, 
 
 " Eull many a flower is born toblush unseen, 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 
 " He was no poet who wrote that, anyhow," 
 observed March, with a look of disdain. 
 
 " You are wrong, friend. He was a good poet 
 and true." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that the sweetness o* 
 that rose is wasted here?" 
 
 " Nay, I do not say that. The poet did not mean 
 to imply that its sweetness is utterly wasted, but 
 to assert the fact that, as far as civilized man is 
 concerned, it is so." 
 
 " ' Civilized man/ " echoed March, turning up 
 
92 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 his nose (a difficult feat, by the way, for his nose 
 by nature turned down). "An' pray what's 
 1 civilized man ' that he should think everything's 
 wasted that don't go in at his own eyes, or up his 
 own nose, or down his own throat? eh!" Ber- 
 tram laughed slightly (he never laughed heartily) . 
 " You are a severe critic, friend." 
 
 " I don't know, and I don't care, what sort o' 
 cricket I am ; but this I do know, that roses are 
 as little wasted here as in your country mayhap 
 not so much. Why, I tell ye I've seen the bars 
 smell 'em." 
 
 "Indeed." 
 
 " Ay, an' eat 'em too ! " 
 
 " That was not taking a poetical view of them," 
 suggested Bertram. 
 
 " Perhaps not, but it was uncommonly prac- 
 tical;" returned March, laughing. 
 
 The conversation was abruptly terminated at 
 this point by a flock of wild-ducks, which, igno- 
 rant of the presence of the two youths, swept 
 close past their heads with a startling whirr. The 
 artist leaped backwards, and March, partly in the 
 exuberant glee of his heart and partly to relieve 
 his own startled feelings, gave utterance to a 
 hideous yell. 
 
 " Hi ! hallo ! " roared Big Waller, starting up 
 and replying to the yell with compound interest, 
 " Wot's to do ? Bars or savages which ? Oh ! 
 savages I see," he added, rubbing his eyes, as he 
 
ON AGAIN. 93 
 
 observed March laughing at him. "Ha! lad, 
 d'ye know there's a sort o' critter in other dig- 
 gins o' this here world as they calls a hi-eeno, or 
 somethin' o' that sort,, as can lauyh, it can ; so 
 you're not the only beast as can do it, d'ye see ! " 
 
 The camp was now thoroughly roused, and the 
 trappers set about making preparations for a start; 
 but little was said. It is generally the case at 
 early morning at least among healthy men who 
 have work to do before breakfast in the wilderness 
 that tongues are disinclined to move. After the 
 first somewhat outrageous and rather unusual 
 burst, no one spoke again, while they carried their 
 goods down to the water's edge, except in a short 
 grumpy way when an order or a remark was 
 needful. In about ten minutes after the utterance 
 of Big Waller's roar, they were in their places in 
 the little red canoe, paddling blithely up the river. 
 
 Bertram's place in the canoe was the centre. 
 He was placed there as a passenger, but, not 
 being by any means of a lazy disposition, he re- 
 lieved all the men by turns, and thus did a good 
 share of the work during the day. 
 
 Towards evening the travellers came to a cata- 
 ract, which effectually barred their further pro- 
 gress, and rendered a portage necessary. Just 
 above the cataract there was a short stretch of 
 comparatively smooth water, in which, however, 
 the current was very strong. Immediately above 
 that there was a rapid of considerable length and 
 
94 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 strength, which boiled furiously among the rocks, 
 and seemed to be impassable to a canoe. After 
 close inspection of it, however, Redhand and 
 Bounce, who were tacitly recognized as joint 
 leaders of the party, agreed that the canoe could 
 easily enough be hauled up by means of a line. 
 To make a long portage, and so avoid the whole 
 obstruction, was desirable; but the precipitous 
 nature of the banks at that place rendered the 
 carrying of the canoe and goods a work not only 
 of severe labour, but of considerable danger. 
 
 The mode of proceeding having been settled, all 
 hands went to work without delay. The goods 
 were carried to the top of the fall, which was 
 about fifteen feet high, then the canoe was shoul- 
 dered by Waller and Bounce, and soon it floated 
 in a calm eddy near the head of the cataract. 
 Having replaced the cargo, a strong line or rope 
 was fastened to the bows, and E/edhand and Bounce 
 proceeded to take their places in the canoe, in 
 order to guide it through the rapid, while the 
 others were engaged in hauling on the track-line. 
 
 " Stay," cried March Marston, as Bounce was 
 stepping in, "let me go in the canoe, Bounce. 
 You know well enough that I can manage it; 
 besides, you're a heavy buffalo, and more able to 
 track than I." 
 
 " Nay, lad," replied Bounce, shaking his head, 
 " you'll only run the risk o' gettin' a wet skin 
 mayhap somethin' worse." 
 
95 
 
 " Now, that's too bad. D'ye think nobody can 
 manage a canoe but yourself? Come, Redhand, 
 do let me go." 
 
 " It's not safe, boy. The rapid looks bad, and 
 you're not much used to the bow-paddle." 
 
 "Tut, nonsense," exclaimed March, pushing 
 Bounce aside and stepping into the canoe. " Now, 
 hold on." 
 
 Before the men on the bank of the river were 
 well aware of what the reckless youth was about, 
 he shoved the bow of the canoe off. The instant 
 it passed the still water of the eddy and caught 
 the powerful stream, the light bark darted like an 
 arrow from the bank, and Redhand was obliged 
 to use his paddle with the utmost dexterity, while 
 the men on shore had to haul on the line with all 
 their might, to prevent it being swept over the 
 brink of the fall. In a second, however, the 
 danger was past, and, putting their strength to 
 the track-line, they dragged the canoe slowly but 
 steadily up-stream, while Eedhand and March 
 guided it past rocks and dangerous eddies. Seeing 
 that the youth used his paddle dexterously, Bounce, 
 after a little thought, resolved to let him encoun- 
 ter the more dangerous rapid above. Redhand 
 silently came to the same conclusion, though he 
 felt uneasy and blamed himself for allowing the 
 ardour of the toy to get the better of him. 
 
 " March is a bold fellow," observed Bertram, 
 
96 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 who walked immediately behind Bounce, hauling 
 on the line like the rest. 
 
 " Bold he is, sir," replied Bounce ; " an' if 
 ye'd seed him, as I did not many weeks agone, 
 a-ridin' on the back of a buffalo bull, ye'd may- 
 hap say he was more nor that." 
 
 " Hah ! he is mad ! " cried Gibault, who, 
 although the last in the line of tracksmen, was 
 sharp-eared, and overheard the conversation. 
 
 " Don't talk, Gibault," interposed Big Waller, 
 "you need all the wind in your little carcase, I 
 guess, to enable ye to steam ahead." 
 
 " Oui, mon dear ami, you is right I do ver' 
 much require all mine steam mine spirits for 
 to push such a heavy, useless hulk as you before 
 me." 
 
 " Here's a steep bit, lads ; mind your eye, 
 Hawkswing," said Bounce, as the Indian who led 
 the party began to ascend a steep part of the 
 bank, where the footing was not secure, owing to 
 the loose, gravelly nature of the soil. 
 
 As they advanced, the path along the bank 
 became narrower, and the cliff itself so precipi- 
 tous that it seemed as if a jerk on the line would 
 drag the men off and send them rolling down into 
 the flood below, in the midst of which the canoe 
 was buffeting its way through the hissing foam. 
 
 Bertram, who was unused to such a position of 
 comparative danger, and whose head was not 
 
BERTRAM BECOMES NERVOUS. 97 
 
 capable of standing the sight of a precipice 
 descending from his very feet into a roaring 
 stream, began to feel giddy, and would have 
 given the world to return ; but he felt ashamed to 
 confess his weakness, and endeavoured, by gazing 
 earnestly into the bank at his side, to steady him- 
 self, hoping that the nature of the track would 
 improve as they advanced. Instead of this being 
 the case, it became worse at every step, and the 
 trackers were at length obliged to proceed cau- 
 tiously along a ledge of rock that barely afforded 
 them foothold. Bertram now felt an almost irre- 
 sistible desire to turn his head to the left and 
 glance at the river below ; yet he knew that if he 
 should do so, he would become utterly unable to 
 advance another yard. While engaged in this 
 struggle it suddenly occurred to him that it was 
 impossible now to turn, no matter how nervous 
 he should become, as the path was too narrow to 
 permit one of the party to pass another ! He 
 became deadly pale, and his heart sank at the 
 thought. Little did the hardy trappers think, as 
 they plodded silently along, that such an agonizing 
 conflict was going on in the breast of one of their 
 number ! A slight groan escaped him in spite of 
 his utmost efforts to restrain himself. Bounce 
 looked back in surprise. 
 
 " Hey ! wot's to do, sir ? " 
 
 " No matter : lead on I will follow," said 
 Bertram, sternly, between his clenched teeth. 
 
98 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Hallo ! up there," shouted Redhand; who 
 was at that moment, along with March, exerting 
 his utmost strength in order to keep the canoe 
 off a rock over which the water was bursting in 
 volumes of thick foam ; " haul away ! haul away ! 
 we're just about up." 
 
 The shout attracted Bertram's attention : he 
 turned his eyes involuntarily towards the river. 
 Instantly his brain swam round ; he staggered, 
 and would have fallen over the bank, had not Big 
 Waller, who was close behind, observed his situa- 
 tion and caught him by the collar. In doing so 
 he was compelled to let go his hold of the line. 
 The additional strain thus suddenly cast upon 
 Gibault wrenched the line from his grasp with a 
 degree of violence that well-nigh hurled him into 
 the river. Bounce and Hawkswiug held on for 
 one moment, but the canoe, having been eased 
 off a little, caught a sweep of the rapid, and went 
 out with a dart that the united strength of the 
 whole party could not have checked. The two 
 men had to let go to save themselves, and in a 
 shorter time than it takes to relate, the canoe 
 went down the river towards the fall, dancing like 
 a cork on the heaving spray, while the old man 
 and the youth stood up in the bow and stern 
 wielding their paddles, now on one side, now on 
 the other, with ceaseless rapidity in their efforts to 
 avoid being dashed to pieces on the rocks. 
 
 The sight of this catastrophe, superadded to his 
 
March Mars ton's Narrow Eseat 
 
MARCH AND REDHAND IN THE RAPID. 99 
 
 already agonized feelings, caused the unhappy 
 artist to swoon. Gibault, on seeing the line let 
 go, turned instantly, and sprang like a deer along 
 the track they had been following, intending to 
 render what assistance he could to his comrades 
 at the foot of the rapid. The others could not 
 follow, because of Big Waller and the artist, who 
 obstructed the path. Seeing this, the powerful 
 Yankee seized Bertram round the waist, and, 
 heaving him on his shoulder as one would swing 
 a child, followed in Gibault's footsteps as fast as 
 he could run. 
 
 The distance to the spot whence they had com- 
 menced to track the canoe was not great, but 
 before they reached it the frail craft had been 
 shattered against a rock, and was now hurrying 
 along with the scattered cargo and the two men 
 towards the fall, to pass over which involved 
 certain destruction. 
 
 There is nothing more uncertain, however, than 
 the action of the whirling eddies of a great rapid. 
 True, the general flow of its body of water is almost 
 always the same, but its superficial billows are 
 more variable now tossing a drifting log to the 
 right, anon to the left, and casting it ashore, or 
 dragging it with fearful violence into the raging 
 current. Although there was only the canoe's 
 length between the old trapper and the youth 
 when they were left struggling in the water, they 
 were swept in totally different directions. Red- 
 H 2 
 
100 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 hand was hurled violently into the eddy, where 
 the canoe had lain before the ascent was com- 
 menced, and was dragged safe to land by his 
 comrades. March Marston, on the other hand, 
 was swept out near to the main current, and 
 would, in two seconds more, have been carried 
 over the fall, had he not, with wonderful presence 
 of mind and an almost superhuman exertion of 
 muscle, dashed into an eddy which was formed 
 by a rock about fifty yards from the top of the 
 fall. The rock was completely covered with the 
 bursting spray, so that it formed no resting-place, 
 and it, with the partial eddy that tailed away from 
 it, was about twenty yards from the shore, where 
 the trappers stood gazing in horror at their com- 
 panion as he struggled bravely to maintain his 
 position by swimming ; but to cross those twenty 
 yards of gushing water, so as to afford him aid, 
 seemed beyond the power of man. 
 
 Men bred in the wilderness are not usually slow 
 to act in cases of danger where action is possible. 
 Each man was revolving in fervid haste every 
 plan that seemed likely to afford succour. Red- 
 hand's quick eye observed that the rocks at the 
 edge of the fall, on the side of the river on which 
 they stood, projected out so far that a straight 
 line drawn from the eddy to the fall would pass 
 within a yard of them, and that, consequently, if 
 March would push straight across the stream and 
 make vigorously for the bank, he might hit the 
 
BRAVERY OF BOUNCE. 101 
 
 point of rocks referred to before being carried 
 over. 
 
 " Down, some of you/' he cried, " to the point, 
 an' be ready to catch him ; I'll shout to him what 
 to do." 
 
 Big Waller and Gibault darted away. Poor 
 Bertram, having recovered, remained gazing in 
 speechless agony at March, who, having made 
 several fruitless efforts to seize hold of the sunken 
 rock, was evidently growing weaker. Bounce also 
 remained to gaze, as if he had lost all his wonted 
 self-command. 
 
 "Ho! March!" shouted Redhand. " Dash into 
 the stream straight for me with all yer might ; 
 don't be afraid, lad ! do it boldly ! " But March 
 heard not. The rush of water about him deadened 
 all other sounds. 
 
 In an instant Bounce started at full speed up 
 the river, plunged into it, and, descending with 
 fearful rapidity, swung round into the eddy behind 
 the stone almost before his companions could 
 divine what he meant to do. 
 
 Even in that moment of terrible suspense March 
 Marston looked with an expression of surprise at 
 his friend as he swam up beside him. Bounce did 
 not waste time or words ; he merely raised one 
 hand for a second, and, pointing to the bank of 
 the river, cried "Push for it 'tis your only 
 chance ! " 
 
 March Marston made no reply, but at once 
 
102 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 obeyed ; yet so exhausted was he, that, in the 
 effort, he lost strength and sank. Bounce was pre- 
 pared for this. He seized him by the hair and 
 struck out with the energy of despair. A moment 
 more and he was within a foot of the brink of the 
 fall, but, also, within a foot of the point of rock 
 on which Big Waller was lying at full length, 
 part of his body overhanging the cataract, his 
 arms extended, and Gibault and Hawkswing hold- 
 ing him firmly by the legs. Bounce caught his 
 comrade's hand, and swung close in to the bank, 
 while with the other hand he continued to grasp 
 March by the hair of the head. The force of the 
 current was so great, however, that not one of the 
 party dared move, and it seemed for a moment as 
 if all of them would be lost, when Bertram rushed 
 forward, and, seizing Bounce by the arm, dragged 
 him still nearer the bank, and relieved the strain 
 upon the others. Just then, Redhand came to 
 the rescue, and in another moment the two men 
 were safe upon the land. 
 
 Poor Bertram fell upon his knees, and while he 
 thanked God for the deliverance of his companions, 
 sobbed like a little child. 
 
 For some time the trappers spoke little. Ac- 
 customed though they were to danger, they were 
 solemnized by the recent narrow escape from 
 sudden death. Perhaps, too, their minds were 
 more deeply affected than usual with a sense of 
 their dependence upon the living God, by the 
 
IRREPARABLE LOSSES. 103 
 
 example and the heartfelt, unrestrained thanks- 
 giving of Bertram. But men whose lives are 
 spent in the midst of alarms are not long seriously 
 affected, even by the most solemn events. The 
 trappers quickly recurred to their present circum- 
 stances, which were, in truth, of a nature calcu- 
 lated to fill them with anxiety, and cause them 
 to bend the powers of their quick wits and iron 
 energies to the simple consideration of how they 
 were to subsist and how proceed on their journey. 
 
 " First of all/' said Redhand, quickly, "we 
 must try what we can recover of our odds and 
 ends." " 
 
 "Eight/' cried Bounce, who was none the 
 worse for his late gallant exertions ; " the current 
 won't stop for no man ; an' the bales ain't likely 
 to stem it o' their own accord till we're ready to 
 look for 'em." 
 
 Saying this, he set off down the river at a run, 
 followed by all the others, including March, who, 
 after wringing the water from his garments, and 
 resting a few minutes, felt as well and strong as 
 ever. But, alas ! their losses were grievous and 
 irreparable. Their little bundles of spare clothing 
 and trinkets for trading with, or conciliating the 
 Indians, were indeed saved, but their guns and all 
 their ammunition were gone. All that remained 
 to them of the latter were the few charges of 
 powder in the horns suspended round their necks, 
 and a few slugs and bullets in their pouches. 
 
104 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 The only fire-arms left were Bertram's cavalry 
 pistols. 
 
 As for the canoe, it was smashed so thoroughly, 
 that only a very few shreds of bark were cast up 
 on the shore; but entangled with these shreds 
 they were happy to find several of their steel 
 traps a most fortunate circumstance, as it held 
 out hopes that they might still be enabled to pro- 
 secute to some extent the main object of their 
 expedition. 
 
 As each man had been in the habit of carrying 
 his axe and knife in his belt, those indispensable 
 implements of the backwoodsman were saved ; 
 but the loss of guns and ammunition was a very 
 severe misfortune, and one which, for at least half 
 an hour after every attempt to recover them had 
 failed, cast a damp over the spirits of the whole 
 party. But these men had neither time nor 
 inclination to hang down their heads and sigh. 
 Big Waller, being a careless individual by nature, 
 was the first to regain somewhat of his wonted 
 tone and manner. Sitting on a grassy knoll, on 
 which all the party had been resting for some 
 time after their fruitless exertions, in moody 
 silence, Waller looked up suddenly and said 
 "Who's afraid ?" 
 
 As no one happened at that moment to be exhi- 
 biting symptoms of terror, and there was no 
 apparent cause for fear, the question seemed irre- 
 levant. We therefore conclude that the bold 
 
REDHAND'S PLAN. 105 
 
 Yankee meant by it to imply that he, at least, was 
 not afraid of circumstances , no matter how disas- 
 trous or heartrending they might be. Having 
 said this, he looked at the faces of his compa- 
 nions one by one. The last face he looked at 
 was that of Gibault Noir, and it wore such a lugu- 
 brious aspect of hopeless melancholy that Big 
 Waller burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, 
 and Bounce, without knowing why, joined him. 
 
 " Well, it's of no use looking blue about it," 
 said March Marstori, making an effort to cheer 
 up ; " the question to be settled now is, " What's 
 to be done?" 
 
 " Ay, that is the question," observed Bertram, 
 gravely. 
 
 " Wall now, that bein' the kee-westion," said 
 Waller, " whose a-goin' to answer it ? There's a 
 chance now, lads ; don't all speak at once." 
 
 " Eight ; that's wot it is," observed Bounce, 
 nodding ; " that's the feelosophy on it. Wen a 
 feller's turned upside down, wot's he a-goin' to 
 do nixt? You can't put no other construction 
 on it in this here wurld." 
 
 Redhand, who had been ruminating, abstract- 
 edly for some minutes, now looked round on his 
 comrades and said 
 
 " Here's a plan for you, lads. That outrageous 
 villain the Big Snake lives, for the most part, in 
 a pretty little spot just three days' march from 
 this place. He stole, as ye all know, the horses 
 
106 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 belongin' to Mr. Bertram's party. Well, I pro- 
 pose that we shud go an' call on him, an' make 
 him stand an' re-deliver. What say you ? " 
 "Agreed," cried Waller, tossing his cap into the 
 air. " Hurrah ! " shouted March Marston. In 
 one way or another, each gave his consent to the 
 plan of making a descent upon the robbers and 
 causing them to make restitution. 
 
 The plans of backwoodsmen, once formed, are 
 always quickly put in execution. They had no 
 arrangements to make, no portmanteaus to pack, 
 no difficulties in the way to overcome. Each man 
 strapped a portion of the remaining property on 
 his broad shoulders, and, pushing into the forest 
 with vigorous strides, they were soon far from the 
 spot where their late disaster had occurred, and 
 gradually drew near to the wild glens and gorges 
 of the Rockv Mountains. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A wolfish Way of killing Buffalo described Bounce becomes 
 Metaphysical on the Fine Arts Butchering enlarged on 
 A glorious Feast, and Sketching under Difficulties. 
 
 ONE of the ancient poets has said that wandering 
 through the wild woods is a pleasant thing. At 
 least, if one of them has not said that, he ought 
 to have said it, and, certainly, many of them must 
 have thought it, whether they said it or no. Un- 
 doubtedly, if future historians record faithfully 
 all that has been said and written from the com- 
 mencement of time to the period in which they 
 flourish, they will embalm the fact that at least 
 one prose writer of the present day has enun- 
 ciated that incontrovertible proposition. 
 
 But we go a step farther. We assert positively 
 that wandering through the wild woods is a 
 healthy as well as a pleasant sort of thing. The 
 free air of the mountains and prairies is reno- 
 vating, the perfumes of the forests are salubrious ; 
 while the constantly recurring necessity for leaping 
 and scrambling is good for the muscles, and the 
 occasional tripping over roots, tumbling into holes, 
 scratching one's face and banging one's shins and 
 toes against stumps, is good for though some- 
 what trying to the temper. 
 
108 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 Further still we affirm that wandering through 
 the wild woods is a funny thing. Any one who 
 had observed our friends March Marston, and 
 Redhand, and Bounce, and Big Waller, and Black 
 Gibault, the trappers, and Bertram the artist, and 
 Hawkswing the Indian, one beautiful afternoon, 
 not long after the day on which they lost their 
 canoe, would have admitted, without hesitation, 
 that wandering through the wild woods was, 
 among other things, a funny thing. 
 
 On the beautiful afternoon referred to, the first 
 six individuals above named were huddled together 
 in a promiscuous heap, behind a small bush, in 
 such a confused way that an ignorant spectator 
 might have supposed that Bounce's head belonged 
 to Big Waller's body, and the artist's shoulders 
 to Redhand's head, and their respective legs and 
 arms to no one individually, but to all collec- 
 tively in a miscellaneous sort of way. The fact 
 was that the bush behind which they were huddled 
 was almost too small to conceal them all, and, 
 being a solitary bush in the midst of a little plain 
 of about a half a mile in extent, they had to make 
 the most of it and the least of themselves. It 
 would have been a refreshing sight for a moralist 
 to have witnessed this instance of man whose 
 natural tendency is to try to look big thus volun- 
 tarily endeavouring to look as small as possible ! 
 
 This bundle of humanity was staring through 
 the bush, with, as the saying is, all its eyes, that 
 
A VERY SINGULAR WOLF. 109 
 
 is, with six pairs of or twelve individual eyes; 
 and they were staring at a wolf an enormous 
 wolf that was slowly walking away from the 
 bush behind which they were ensconced ! It was 
 a very singular wolf indeed one that was well 
 calculated to excite surprise in the breast even of 
 trappers. There was something radically wrong 
 with that wolf, especially about the legs. Its ears 
 and head were all right, and it had a tail, a very- 
 good tail for a wolf; but there was a strange un- 
 accountable lump under its neck, and its fore legs- 
 bent the wrong way at the knees, and it seemed 
 to have long feet trailing behind its hind legs, 
 besides being otherwise misshapen. The mystery 
 is explained when we state that this wolf was none 
 other than Hawkswing, down on his hands and 
 knees, with a wolf-skin over his back, and Ber- 
 tram's blunderbuss-pistol in his hand. He was- 
 creeping cautiously towards a herd of six or seven 
 buffaloes that chanced to be feeding quietly there, 
 quite unconscious of the near proximity of so 
 dangerous an enemy. 
 
 "I hope the old pistol won't miss fire," whis 
 pered Redhand, as he observed that the wolf 
 paused, evidently for the purpose of examining 
 the priming. 
 
 "I hope/' added Bounce, "that the Injun 
 won't miss his aim. He be'nt used to pistols." 
 
 " Never fear," said March, with a quiet grin. 
 " If he aims within a yard o' the brute he's sure 
 
110 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 to hit, for I loaded the old blunderbuss myself, 
 air 5 it's crammed nigh to the muzzle with all sorts 
 o' things, includin' stones." 
 
 At this Big Waller stared, and said, emphati- 
 cally, " It'll bust!" Bertram felt and looked 
 uneasy, but Bounce shook his head. 
 
 "Them old things," said he, " never bust. Pve 
 been forty years, off an' on, in these parts, an' 
 I've always obsarved that old irons o' that sort 
 don't bust ; cause why ? they'd ha' busted w'en 
 they wos new, if they'd bin goin' to bust at all. 
 The fact is they can't bust. They're too useless 
 even for that." 
 
 " How comes it," inquired Bertram, " that the 
 buffaloes are not afraid of a wolf? I have been 
 led to understand that wolves are the inveterate 
 enemies of buffaloes, and that they often attack 
 them." 
 
 To this question March, whose head was in 
 close proximity to that of the artist, replied 
 
 ' ' Ay, the sneakin' brutes will attack a single 
 wounded or worn-out old buffalo, when it falls 
 behind the herd, and when there are lots o' their 
 low-minded comrades along with 'em; but the 
 buffaloes don't care a straw for a single wolf, as ye 
 may see now if ye pay attention to what Hawks- 
 wing's doin'." 
 
 Bertram became silent on observing that the 
 Indian had approached to within about pistol- 
 range of the buffalo without attracting particular 
 
Ill 
 
 attention, and that he was in the act of taking 
 aim at its shoulder. Immediately a sharp click 
 caused the buffalo to look up and apprised the on- 
 lookers that the faithless weapon had missed fire ; 
 again Hawkswing pulled the trigger and with :i 
 like result. By this time the buffalo, having 
 become alarmed, started off at a run. Once more 
 the click was heard ; then the wolf, rising on its 
 hind legs, coolly walked back to its comrades 
 behind the bush, while the heid of buffaloes, gal- 
 loped furiously away. 
 
 The Indian solemnly stalked up to Bertram and 
 presented the pistol to him with such an expres- 
 sion of grave contempt on his countenance that 
 March Marston burst into an irresistible fit of 
 laughter ; thereby relieving his own feelings and 
 giving, as it were, direction to those of the others, 
 most of whom were in the unpleasant condition 
 of being undecided whether to laugh or cry. 
 
 To miss a buffalo was not indeed a new, or in 
 ordinary circumstances, a severe misfortune ; but 
 to miss one after having been three days without 
 food, with the exception of a little unpalatable 
 wolfs flesh, was not an agreeable, much less an 
 amusing, incident. 
 
 " I'll tell ye wot it is," said Bounce, slapping 
 his thigh violently and emphasizing his words 
 as if to imply that nobody had ever told anybody 
 " wot " anything " wos " since the world began 
 
112 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 up to that time, " I'll tell ye wot it is, I won't 
 stand this sort o' thing no longer/' 
 
 "It is most unfortunate/' sighed poor Bertram, 
 who thoroughly identified himself with his pistol, 
 and felt as much ashamed of it as if the fault had 
 been his own. 
 
 "Wall, lads," observed Big Waller, drawing 
 forth his pipe as the only source of comfort in 
 these trying circumstances, and filling it with 
 scrupulous care, "it ain't of no use gettin' 
 growowly about it, I guess. There air more buf- 
 faloes then them wot's gone ; mayhap we'll splifli- 
 cate one before we gits more waspisher." 
 
 It may, perhaps, be necessary to explain that 
 Waller's last word referred to the unusually small 
 waists of the party, the result of a pretty long 
 fast. 
 
 " I'll tell ye what it is/' said March, advancing 
 towards Bounce with a swagger and drawing his 
 hunting-knife, " I quite agree with Waller's senti- 
 ments. I don't mean to allow myself to get any 
 more waspisher, so I vote that we cut Bounce up 
 and have a feed. What say you, comrades ? " 
 
 "All right," replied Bounce, laying bare his 
 broad chest as if to receive the knife, " only, 
 p'raps, ye'll allow me to eat the first slice off 
 myself afore ye begin, cause I couldn't well have 
 my share afterwards, d'ye see ? But, now I think 
 on't, I'd be rather a tough morsel. Young meat's 
 
113 
 
 gin'rally thought the tenderest. Wot say ye to 
 cuttin' up March first, an' tryin' me nixt?" 
 
 " If you'll only wait, lads/' said Redhand, "till 
 Mr. Bertram gits a new flint into his pistol, we'll 
 shoot the victim instead o' cuttin' him up. It'll 
 be quicker, you know." 
 
 " Hah ! non," cried Gibault, leaping a few 
 inches off the ground, under the impulse of a 
 new idea, " I vill show to you vat ve vill do. Ve 
 vill each cot hoff von finger. Redhand, he vill 
 begin vid de thomb, et so on till it come to me, 
 and I vill cot hoff mine leet finger. Each vill 
 devour the finger of de oder, an' so ve shall have 
 von dinner vidout committing mordor ha ! vat 
 say you?" 
 
 As Bertram had by this time arranged the lock 
 of his pistol and reprimed it, the hungry travel- 
 lers resumed their weary march without coming 
 to a decision upon this delicate point. 
 
 It had happened that, during the last few days, 
 the land over which they travelled being some- 
 what barren, small game had become scarce, and 
 the large game could not be approached near 
 enough to be shot with such weapons as the 
 artist's antiquated pistols ; and as the party pos- 
 sessed nothing better in the shape of a projectile 
 they had failed to procure supplies. They had 
 now, however, again reached a rich country, and 
 had succeeded in trapping a large wolf, under the 
 i 
 
114 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 skin of which Hawkswing had made, as we have 
 seen, an unsuccessful effort to shoot a buffalo. 
 Soon after this failure the party came to a ridge 
 of gravelly soil that stretched across the plain like 
 a wave. 
 
 The plain, or small prairie, to which we refer 
 was in the midst of a most lovely scene. The 
 earth was carpeted with rich green grass, in 
 which the wild flowers nestled like gems. The 
 ground was undulating, yet so varied in its forma- 
 tions that the waves and mounds did not prevent 
 the eyes of the travellers ranging over a vast 
 tract of country, even when they were down 
 among the hollows ; and, when they had ascended 
 the backs of the ridges, they could cast a wide 
 glance over a scene of mingled plain and wood, 
 lake and river, such as is never seen except in 
 earth's remotest wilds, where man has not at- 
 tempted to adorn the face of Nature with the 
 exuberances of his own wonderful invention. 
 
 Far away on the horizon the jagged forms and 
 snowy peaks of the Rocky Mountains rose clear 
 and sharp against the sky. For some days past 
 the trappers had sighted this stupendous <c back- 
 bone " of the far west, yet so slowly did they 
 draw near that March Marston and Bertram, in 
 their impatience, almost believed they were a 
 range of phantom hills, which ever receded from 
 them as they advanced. 
 
 On reaching the summit of the gravelly ridge, 
 
INFLUENCE OF TOBACCO. 115 
 
 Redhand looked along it with an earnest, search- 
 ing gaze. 
 
 " Wot's ado now ? " inquired Bounce. 
 
 " There ought to he prairie-hens here," replied 
 the other. 
 
 " Oh ! do stand still, just as you are, men/' 
 cried Bertram, enthusiastically, flopping down on 
 a stone and drawing forth his sketch-book, "you'll 
 make such a capital foreground." 
 
 The trappers smiled and took out their pipes, 
 having now learned from experience that smoking 
 was not detrimental to a sketch rather the 
 reverse. 
 
 " Cut away, Gibault," said Bounce, " an 5 take 
 a look at the edge o' yon bluff o' poplars and 
 willows. I've obsarved that prairie-hens is fond 
 o' sich places. You'll not be missed out o' the 
 pictur', bein' only a small objict, d'ye see, besides 
 an ogly one." 
 
 The jovial Canadian acknowledged the compli- 
 ment with a smile and obeyed the command, 
 leaving his companions to smoke their pipes and 
 gaze with quiet complacency upon the magni- 
 ficent scene. Doubtless, much of their satisfac- 
 tion resulted from the soothing influence of 
 tobacco on their empty stomachs. 
 
 " I say," whispered Waller, removing his pipe 
 
 and puffing from his lips a large cloud of smoke, 
 
 which rolled upwards in the form of a white ring, 
 
 " I say, Bounce, I guess it's past my comprehen- 
 
 i 2 
 
116 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 sion what he means by a foreground. How does 
 we make a capital foreground? " 
 
 Bounce looked at his companion in silence for 
 a few seconds; then he removed his pipe, pursed 
 his lips, frowned heavily, looked at the ground, 
 and repeated slowly, " How does we make a 
 capital foreground ? " 
 
 Waller nodded. 
 
 "Ay, that's it.-" Bounce resumed his pipe for 
 a few seconds, and then said with an air of the 
 utmost profundity, 
 
 " Don't you know ? " 
 
 "No, I don't." 
 
 " Wot ? Nothin' about it wotiver ? " 
 
 " Nothin' wotsomediver." 
 
 " Hm, that's okard," said Bounce, once more 
 applying to his pipe ; " 'cause, d'ye see, its most 
 'orrible difficult to explain a thing to a feller as 
 don't know nothin' wotiver about it. If ye only 
 had the smallest guess o' " 
 
 " Wall, come, I does know somethm' about it," 
 interrupted Waller. 
 
 " Wot's that ? " inquired Bounce, brightening 
 up. 
 
 "I calc'late that I knows for certain it ain't 
 got no place wotever in my onderstandinV 
 
 " Hah ! " exclaimed Bounce. " Come, then, 
 Fll do my best for to explain it t'ye. Here's wot 
 it is. D'ye see Mr. Bertram, there ? " 
 
 "Yes I does." 
 
BOUNCE'S DEFINITION OF A FOREGROUND. 117 
 
 "An'd'yeseeyerself?" 
 
 " Wall, I does/' replied Waller, looking com- 
 placently down at his huge limbs. 
 
 " Good ; then d'ye see the ground over there ? " 
 continued Bounce, pointing with his pipe to the 
 Kocky Mountains. 
 
 Waller nodded. 
 
 "Now then/' said Bounce, in those deep 
 earnest tones with which men usually attempt to 
 probe the marrow of some desperately knotty ques- 
 tion; "Now, then, when Mr. Bertram's a 
 drawin' of, an' tries to look at the ground over 
 there, you an' me comes before the ground, d'ye 
 see ; an' so we're, as ye may say, bef ore-grounds. 
 But men wot studies human natur' an' lang- 
 widges, d'ye see, comes for to know that words is 
 always gittin' onnecessary bits chopped off 'em 
 sometimes at one end, sometimes at t'other. So 
 they tuck off the B, d'ye see, an' made it fore- 
 ground, and that's how we come to be fore- 
 grounds." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Waller, with the vacant air of a 
 man who feels himself as wise at the termination 
 as he was at the beginning of an explanation. 
 
 " Yes," resumed Bounce, " that's how it is. I 
 must confess, for my part, that I don't 'xactly 
 see the advantage o' us in that light. I should 
 ha' thought it would ha' bin better to make us 
 stand to one side, d'ye see, and let him see how 
 the land lies. But there's no accountin' for 
 
118 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 taste in this wurld Fve obsarved that, iver since 
 I was three fut two." 
 
 Having delivered himself of this graphic expo- 
 sition of an abstruse subject, Bounce relapsed 
 into silence, and the whole party continued for 
 some minutes in a profound reverie. From this 
 felicitous condition they were awakened by the 
 sudden appearance of Black Gibault, who darted 
 out of the poplar bluff and made towards them 
 at the top of his speed. He uttered no cry, but, 
 on coming near enough to permit of his features 
 being clearly seen, it was observed that his eyes 
 were eagerly wide open, and that his mouth was 
 engaged in the formation of words. A second or 
 two more, and he was near enough to be heard 
 uttering the word " buffaloes " in a hoarse 
 whisper. 
 
 " Ho ! boy, wot is't ? " cried Bounce, in an 
 equally hoarse whisper. 
 
 "Ba buffaloes, hah! buffaloes," cried Gibault, 
 panting violently as he came up; " Where be de 
 leet gun? Ho ! Monsieur Bertram, out vid it." 
 
 "Where saw ye them ? " asked Eedhand, seiz- 
 ing the two pistols, and examining the priming. 
 
 " Jist oder side of de bluff. Ver' close to de 
 bushes. Queek ! queek ! vite ! mon gar9on, you 
 is so drefful slow." 
 
 The latter part of this sentence was addressed 
 to Hawkswing, who was quietly putting on his 
 wolf-skin. Although too slow for the hasty spirit 
 
The Woif and the Buffaloes. 
 
 p. ny. 
 
HAWKSWING KILLS A BUFFALO. 119 
 
 of Gibault, the Indian was quick enough for all 
 useful purposes. In three minutes he was in the 
 clump of poplar trees behind which the buffaloes 
 were reported to be feeding, and in another 
 minute he was out upon the plain creeping to- 
 wards his victims, while the rest of the party 
 were again huddled together behind a bush, 
 looking on with deep interest and breathless 
 attention. 
 
 Gradually and slowly the Indian crept towards 
 the buffaloes, pausing and snuffing about from 
 time to time as if he were a veritable wolf in 
 search of something to eat. At last he had ap- 
 proached near enough to the herd to attract their 
 attention, but scarcely near enough to make sure 
 of bringing one down. The huge unwieldly 
 creatures looked up inquiringly for a moment, 
 but, seeing only a solitary enemy, they scorned 
 to take further notice of him, and went on 
 feeding. 
 
 Hawkswing paused within a few yards of the 
 side of a fat sleek animal, and slowly raised his 
 pistol. The trappers held their breath, and 
 Bertram uttered a low groan of anxiety. One 
 moment more and a white puff was followed by 
 a loud crack, and a bellow, as the horror-stricken 
 buffaloes tossed up their heels and fled wildly from 
 the spot, leaving one of their number in the 
 agonies of death upon the plain. 
 
 The knife of the Indian hastened its end, and 
 
120 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 with a rush and a yell of delight the whole party 
 fell upon the luckless animal. 
 
 It was a wonderful sight to see, the way in 
 which these experienced men flayed and cut up 
 that buffalo ! Hawkswing, without taking time 
 to remove his wolf-skin covering, commenced 
 upon the head and speedily cut out the tongue 
 a more difficult operation than inexperienced per- 
 sons would suppose. Eedhand and Bounce began 
 at the shoulders, and Big Waller and Gibault fell 
 to work upon the flanks. March Marston seized 
 his axe, and hastening into the bluff felled a dead 
 pine and kindled a fire. As for Bertram, he sat 
 down to sketch the whole with a degree of prompt 
 facility and gusto, that showed the habit had 
 become second nature to him. 
 
 The way in which these men wielded their 
 bloody knives, flayed and sliced, dismembered 
 and divided that buffalo, is past belief almost 
 beyond description. Each man threw off his 
 capote and tucked up his shirt-sleeves to the 
 elbows, and very soon each had on a pair of 
 bright red gauntlets. And the bloody appear- 
 ance of Hawkswing's mouth proved that he had 
 been anticipating the feast with a few tit- bits raw. 
 The others were more patient. 
 
 In very nearly as short a time as it takes to tell, 
 the buffalo was converted into a mass of frag- 
 ments that were powerfully suggestive of a 
 butcher's shop, and the trappers adjourned to a 
 
121 
 
 neighbouring rivulet to wash their hands and 
 arms. 
 
 "Now, I'll tell ye wot it is," observed Bounce, 
 while thus engaged; "I means for to have a 
 most awful blow out, and then go to sleep for four- 
 and-twenty hours on end." 
 
 " Ditto/' remarked Big Waller with a nod ; to 
 which old Redhand replied with a chuckle. 
 
 " An' who be go to vatch, tink you?" in- 
 quired Gibault, as they all returned to the camp. 
 " Prehaps de Injuns look out for us vat den? " 
 
 " Ah ye may well ask that, Gibault," said 
 Redhand; "the fact is I've been thinkin' that 
 now we're drawin' near to enemies we must begin 
 to keep better watch at night, and to burn small 
 fires o j dry wood, lest the smoke should tell a tale 
 upon us." 
 
 " Oh, don't talk bam, old feller," said Waller ; 
 " I guess we'll have watchin' enough w'en we gits 
 into the mountains. Let's take it easy here." 
 
 " We'll have one good blow out to-night, any- 
 how," cried March Marston, heaving a fresh pile 
 of logs on the already roaring fire. " Now, Mr. 
 Bertram, do give up your scratchin' to-night, and 
 let's see what you can do in the eatin' way. I'm 
 sure you've fasted long enough, at least for the 
 good o' your health." 
 
 The poor artist had indeed fasted long enough 
 to give to his naturally thin and lank figure a 
 thread-papery appearance that might have sug- 
 
122 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 gested the idea that he was evaporating. He 
 smiled good-huraouredly when March Marston, 
 who had now become rather familiar with him, 
 shut up his sketch-book and set him forcibly 
 down before the fire, all round which steaks and 
 hunks of meat were roasting and grilling, and 
 sending forth an odour that would have rendered 
 less hungry men impatient of delay. But they 
 had not to wait long. Each man sat before his 
 respective steak or hunk, gazing eagerly, as, skew- 
 ered on the end of a splinter of wood, his supper 
 roasted hissingly. When the side next the fire 
 was partially cooked, he turned it round and fell 
 to work upon that while the other side was 
 roasting thus the cooking and the eating went 
 on together. 
 
 After a considerable time symptoms of satiety 
 began to appear, in the shape of an occasional 
 remark. Soon Bounce uttered a deep sigh, and 
 announced his belief that, having taken the edge 
 off his appetite, it was time to begin with the 
 marrow-bones. Thereupon, with the marrow- 
 bones he began, and his example was quickly 
 followed by his companions. There was a busi- 
 ness-like steadiness of purpose in the way in 
 which that meal was eaten, and in the whole 
 of the procedure connected with it, that would 
 have been highly diverting to a disinterested 
 spectator. 
 
 When the feast was concluded, the pipes made 
 
THE EFFECTS OF A GOOD SUPPER. 123 
 
 their appearance as a matter of course ; and when 
 these were lighted, and in full blast, the trappers 
 found leisure to look round upon each other's 
 faces with expressions of benignity. 
 
 " Dat be a monstrobolly goot supper," remarked 
 Gibault Noir. Gibault spoke with an effort. It 
 was quite plain that moderation was a virtue that 
 he did not possess in a high degree at least, not 
 on the present occasion. 
 
 " You'll need a ' monstrobolly 3 good sleep arter 
 it/' observed Bounce, quietly. 
 
 "You will, jist," said Waller; "an' so will this 
 coon, I cal " 
 
 Big Waller was going to have " calculated," 
 according to custom ; but sleepiness overpowered 
 him at the moment, and he terminated the word 
 with a yawn of such ferocity that it drew from 
 Redhand a remark of doubt as to whether his 
 jaws could stand such treatment long. 
 
 Every member of that party seemed to be quite 
 contented and amiable, but no one showed much 
 inclination to talk, and ere many minutes had 
 passed, half their number were under their blan- 
 kets, their heads pillowed on their bundles and 
 their eyes sealed in sleep. A few minutes later, 
 and Big Waller, sinking into a very sprawling and 
 reckless posture, with his back against the stem 
 of a large cotton-tree, dropped into a state of 
 slumber with his pipe hanging gracefully from 
 his lips. 
 
124 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 This seemed so picturesque to Theodore Ber- 
 tram, who sat immediately opposite to the Yankee, 
 on the other side of the fire, that he pulled out 
 his sketch-book and began enthusiastically to 
 sketch by the flickering light. While he was thus 
 occupied, the others lay down, one by one, and 
 he was left, at last, the only waking member of 
 the camp. 
 
 But Theodore Bertram was human, and this is 
 tantamount to saying that he was not capable of 
 ignoring the somnolent influences of human nature. 
 To his own extreme surprise his head fell forward 
 with an abrupt nod while he was engaged in the 
 act of depicting Big Waller's nose, and he found, 
 on resuming work with an imbecile smile at what 
 he deemed his weakness, that that member of the 
 Yankee's face was at least two feet long, and was 
 formed after the pattern of a somewhat irregular 
 Bologna sausage. India-rubber quickly put this 
 to rights, however, and he set to again with re- 
 newed zeal. Throwing back his head, and looking 
 up as if for inspiration, his wide-awake fell off, 
 and it required a sudden and powerful effort to 
 prevent his head and shoulders falling in the same 
 direction. 
 
 Having replaced his hat and shaken himself a 
 little, the persevering man once more applied him- 
 self to his task of finishing the Yankee's portrait, 
 which, to say truth, now presented a variety of 
 jagged and picturesque outlines, that savoured 
 
BERTRAM MAKES STRANGE MISTAKES. 125 
 
 more of caricature than anything Bertram had 
 ever yet accomplished. For some time the pencil 
 moved upon the paper pretty steadily, and the 
 artist was beginning to congratulate himself on 
 his success, when, to his horror, he observed that 
 the tree against which the Yankee leaned was in 
 the act of falling over to the right. The same 
 instant he received a shock upon the left side, and 
 awoke to find that he had fallen heavily upon poor 
 Gibault's breast, and that Waller and his tree 
 were in statu quo. But Gibault cared not; he 
 was too deeply intent upon sleeping to mind such 
 trifles. 
 
 Bertram smiled meekly as he resumed his sit- 
 ting posture ; but the smile faded and was replaced 
 by a gaze of mute astonishment as he observed 
 that he had depicted Waller's right eye upon his 
 chin, close beneath his nose ! There seemed to 
 be some sort of magic here, and he felt disposed 
 to regard the thing in the light of some serious 
 optical illusion, when, on closer inspection, he 
 discovered Waller's mouth drawn altogether 
 beyond the circle of his countenance, a foot or so 
 above his head, on the stem of the tree against 
 which he leaned. This changed the current of 
 his thoughts and led him to believe that he must 
 be dreaming, under which impression he fell back 
 and went to sleep. 
 
 Of course, Bertram recollected nothing after 
 that; but when Gibault awoke next morning, he 
 
126 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 found him lying on his back, with his feet in the 
 ashes of the extinct fire, his tall brigandish wide- 
 awake perfectly flat beneath his shoulders, and his 
 sketch-book lying open across his face. 
 
WAKING THOUGHTS. 127 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A Cache discovered Bertram becomes valorous Failure 
 follows, and a brief Skirmish, Plight, and Separation are 
 the Results. 
 
 THE sun was high, scattering the golden clouds 
 in the bright sky, gilding the hill tops, flooding 
 the plains, vivifying vegetable life, and gladdening 
 the whole animal creation, when, on the following 
 morning, our wearied trappers raised their heads 
 and began to think of breakfast. 
 
 To do these trappers justice, however, we must 
 add that their looks, when they became wide 
 enough awake to take full cognizance of the 
 scenery, indicated the presence of thoughts and 
 emotions of a more elevated character, though, 
 from the nature of their training from infancy, 
 they wanted words to express their feelings. 
 
 It was otherwise with Bertram and March 
 Marston. Their exclamations, the instant they 
 arose, showed that both their hearts were keenly 
 alive to the good and the beautiful which sur- 
 rounded them and their tongues were not alto- 
 gether incapable of uttering the praise of Him 
 who clothes so gorgeously the lovely earth and 
 peoples it with millions of happy creatures 
 yes, happy creatures, for, despite the existence 
 
128 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 of death, and sin, and sorrow everywhere, and 
 the croaking of misanthropes, there is much, 
 very much, of pure, overflowing happiness here 
 below. 
 
 " Come, March Mr. Bertram, time presses," 
 said Redhand, interrupting the two friends in the 
 midst of an earnest conversation ; " we've got a 
 long day before us, and, mayhap, a fight with 
 redskins at the end o't, so it behoves us to make 
 a good breakfast and set off as soon as we can. 
 We're late enough already." 
 
 " Ah, Redhand ! " exclaimed March, " you're a 
 terrible fellow for duty an' business, an' all that 
 sort o' thing. It's always 'time to be off,' or 
 ' time to think o 3 this or that,' or ' we mustn't 
 put off/ with you. Why won't ye let us take 
 a breathin' spell once in a way to enjoy ourselves, 
 eh?" 
 
 The old man pointed to the sun "You've 
 enjoyed yourself late enough to day, han't 
 ye?" 
 
 " Come, March, you're in a fault-finding hu- 
 mour this morning," said Bertram, as they walked 
 towards the camp. "Let's enjoy ourselves in 
 spite of circumstances. Do you know, I hold it 
 to be exceedingly wise as well as philosophical, to 
 make the best of things at all times." 
 
 "Do you?" exclaimed March, in a tone of 
 affected surprise; "now that's odd. You must 
 be a real clever fellow to have made up your mind 
 
SPARKS OF WISDOM. 129 
 
 on that point. But somehow or other I'm in- 
 clined to think that most o' the trappers here- 
 abouts are as wise as yourself on it, though, 
 mayhap, they don't say it just in the same words. 
 There's Waller, now, as '11 tell ye that when he 
 ' can't help it he guesses he'll jist grin an' bear it.' 
 And there's an old Irish trapper that's bin in the 
 mountains nigh forty years now, an' who's alive 
 at this day if he beant dead that used to say to 
 himself when ill luck came upon him 'Now, 
 Terence, be aisy, boy, an' av ye can't be aisy, be 
 as aisy as ye can.' So you see, Mr. Bertram, 
 we have got a few sparks of wisdom in these 
 diggin's." 
 
 " Now, then, stop yer feelosophy/' cried 
 Bounce, hitching his shoulders so as to induce 
 his light load to take up a more accommodating 
 position. "Ye didn't use to be a slow feller, 
 March; wot's to do? Ye ain't a goin' to cave 
 in 'cause we're gettin' nigh the redskins, are 
 ye?" 
 
 To this March deigned no reply, but, swinging 
 his bundle over his shoulder, set off at a pace that 
 speedily left his laughing comrades far behind. 
 When, in the course of an hour after, they over- 
 took him, he was discovered lying flat on his back, 
 with his head resting on his bundle, and smoking 
 his pipe with an air of perfect satisfaction. 
 
 During the course of that day the trappers 
 walked about thirty miles. Towards the after- 
 
130 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 noon they came to a large river, along the banks 
 of which they pursued their way, led by Redhand, 
 who seemed as familiar with the country as if he 
 had dwelt there from infancy. The old trapper's 
 kindly visage was lighted up with a smile of 
 recognition, ever and anon, when some new and 
 striking feature of the landscape opened up to 
 view, as if he had met with and were greeting 
 some personal friend. He spoke occasionally in a 
 low tone to March, who kept usually close to his 
 side, and pointed to spots which were associated 
 in his memory with adventures of various kinds. 
 But Redhand' s observations were few. He pre- 
 ferred to listen to the conversation of his com- 
 rades, as they plodded steadily along, enlivening 
 their march with many an anecdote and legend. 
 
 At last Redhand called a halt, and gazed in- 
 quiringly around him, as if in search of some 
 object. 
 
 " Wot's up?" inquired Bounce, earnestly. 
 
 " It was hereabouts, somewhere," muttered 
 Redhand, to himself rather than to his friend ; 
 then added quickly, as he threw down his pack, 
 "Ay, there it is never touched. Now that's 
 what I call luck." 
 
 " Woi's luck ? " inquired Waller. 
 
 " Ah, dat is de keevestion," added Gibault, with 
 a look of surprise. 
 
 " You must know, lads," said Redhand, turning 
 to his comrades, who observed his movements 
 
REDHAND ASTONISHES THE TRAPPERS. 131 
 
 with considerable astonishment ; " you must know, 
 lads,, there was an old chap who once trapped 
 beavers up in them parts " 
 
 "Oh! it 's a hanikdot," interrupted Big Waller; 
 " then I guess we'd as well sot down." So saying, 
 he seated himself on .his bundle and, as a matter 
 of course, proceeded to fill his pipe. The others 
 followed his example, with the exception of Red- 
 hand, who remained standing, and of Bertram, 
 who quickly opened his sketch-book, that being 
 the first opportunity he had enjoyed during the 
 day of making an entry therein. 
 
 " Eight," exclaimed Bounce. " It's allers more 
 feelosophical to sot than to stand also more 
 ekornomical, 'cause it saves yer moccassins. Go 
 on with yer story, old man." 
 
 " It ain't a story," said Redhand ; " nor I don't 
 think it can even be called an anecdote. Well, 
 this old chap that once trapped beaver in them 
 parts came down to Pine Point settlement one 
 year with a load o' furs, sold 'em all off, took a 
 ragin' fever, and died." Redhand paused, and 
 gazed dreamily at the ground. 
 
 " I say," observed Bounce, seriously, " ain't that 
 wot ye may call raither a short hanikdot not 
 much in it, eh ? " 
 
 "But before he died," resumed Redhand, with- 
 out noticing the interruption, " he sent for me an.' 
 said ' Redhand, I'm goin' onder, an' I've got 
 some property as I don't want lost. Ye know 
 K 2 
 
132 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 Beaver Creek ? ' 'Yes,' says I, f every fut of it.' 
 * Well, then/ says he, ' there's a spot there with 
 three mounds on the right side o' the Creek and 
 a tall poplar in front of 'em.' f I know it/ says 
 I. ' Well, w'en I last come from that part/ says 
 he, ' I made a cache at the foot o' that poplar, 
 an' put one or two things in, which it 'ud be a 
 pity to lose so I give 'em to you, Redhand. I 
 was chased by Injuns at the place, so I couldn't 
 stop to bring 'em away, d'ye see ? ' ' An' what 
 were the things ye put there?' said I. But he 
 gave me no answer ; his mind began to wander, 
 and he never spoke sense again. Now, lads, this 
 is Beaver Creek, and there stands the poplar in 
 front o' the three mounds." 
 
 Redhand pointed to the tree as he spoke, and 
 the others started up with alacrity, for the little 
 touch of romance connected with the incident, 
 combined with their comparatively destitute con- 
 dition and their ignorance of what the concealed 
 treasure might be, powerfully stirred their cu- 
 riosity. 
 
 Arming themselves with strong staves, they 
 began to dig away the earth at the roots of the 
 poplar. 
 
 After a few minutes' hard work, Bounce rose 
 to wipe the perspiration from his brow, and 
 said 
 
 "Wot for didn't ye tell us o' this before, Red- 
 hand?" 
 
BRANDY AND TOBACCO. 133 
 
 " Because I wasn't sure the cache might not 
 have bin discovered long ago, and I didn't want to 
 risk disappointin' ye." 
 
 " Hallo ! here's something" exclaimed Big Wal- 
 ler, as the point of the stake with which he tore 
 up the earth struck against some hard substance. 
 
 " Have a care, boy/' cried Bounce, stooping 
 down and clearing away the earth with his hands. 
 "P'raps it's easy broken. No why it's a 
 keg ! " 
 
 " So it am," cried Gibault ; " p'raps it am 
 poudre." 
 
 At this moment Big Waller and Bounce gave 
 the keg a violent tug and disentombed it, an 
 operation which proved Gibault's surmise to be 
 wrong, for the shake showed that the contents 
 were liquid. In a moment the plug was driven 
 in, and Bounce, putting his nose to the hole, in- 
 haled the result. He drew back with a look of 
 surprise, and said 
 
 "Brandy!" 
 
 " Ha ! here is one oder ting," cried Gibault, 
 laying hold of a bundle and dragging it to light. 
 " Vat can dis be ? " 
 
 The question was soon answered; the string 
 was cut, the leathern cover unrolled, and a consi- 
 derable quantity of tobacco was disclosed to the 
 view of the trappers, whose looks showed pretty 
 clearly that this latter discovery was much more 
 agreeable than the former. 
 
134 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 After digging deep all round the tree, they came 
 to the conclusion that this was all that the cache 
 contained. 
 
 " Now/' said Bounce, after some talk in refer- 
 ence to their newly-found treasure, " wot's to be 
 done with dis here keg o' brandy ? As for the 
 baccy, we'll carry that along with us, of course, 
 an' if Master Redhand's a liberal feller, we'll 
 help him to smoke it. But the brandy-keg's 
 heavy, an', to say truth. I'm not much inclined 
 for it. I never wos fond o' fire-water." 
 
 " If you'll allow me, friends, to suggest," said 
 Bertram, whose experience among trappers mother 
 regions had convinced him that spirits was a most 
 undesirable commodity, " I would recommend 
 that you should throw this brandy away. I never 
 saw good come of it. We do not require it for 
 health, neither do we for sickness. Let us throw 
 it away, my friends ; it is a dangerous and deceit- 
 ful foe." 
 
 " Mais, monsieur," interposed Gibault with a 
 rueful countenance; "you speak de trooth; but 
 though hims be dangereux an' ver' bad for drink 
 oftin, yet ven it be cold vedder, it doo varm de 
 cokilsof dehart!" 
 
 Big Waller laughed vociferously at this. " I 
 guess Gibault's right," said he, "it 'ud be a 
 powerful shame to fling it away." 
 
 "Well, lads," said Redhand, "it's evident that 
 we can't drink it just now, for it would unsteady 
 
THE TRAPPERS FIND A CAXOE. 135 
 
 our hands for the work we have to do this night. 
 It's also clear we can't carry it with us on a war 
 expedition ; so I propose that we should put it 
 where we found it an' come back for it when 
 we've done wi' the redskins." 
 
 This plan was finally agreed to ; the keg was re- 
 buried at the foot of the poplar, and the party 
 continued their journey, carrying the much-prized 
 tobacco along with them. 
 
 The sun was still blazing above the mountains 
 in the west, tinging their snowy spires with rosy 
 red, when the trappers came upon the first indi- 
 cation of the neighbourhood of Indians in the 
 shape of recent footprints and cuttings in the 
 woods. A large canoe was also found lying 
 bottom up on the bank of the creek. This Red- 
 hand examined, and found it to be in good con- 
 dition, although, from the marks in the vicinity, 
 it was evident that it had not been recently 
 used. 
 
 Men who spend their lives in the backwoods of 
 America are celebrated for the closeness with 
 which they observe every object and circumstance 
 which happens to pass within the range of their 
 perceptions. This habit and acuteness of observa- 
 tion is the result of necessity. The trapper and 
 the Red Indian are alike dependent very much on 
 this faculty for their sustenance and for their 
 safety. Surrounded as they are by perils of every 
 kind, their eyes and ears are constantly on the 
 
136 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 alert, as they pass through the pathless wilder- 
 ness on the hunt or on the war- trail. No object 
 within the range of vision is passed with indiffer- 
 ence. Everything is carefully yet quickly noted 
 the breaking of a twig, the crushing of a blade 
 of grass, or the footprint of man or beast. Hence 
 the backwoodsman acquires the habit of turning 
 all things in his path to account, or notes them in 
 case they should, by any possibility, be required 
 by him at a future time. 
 
 Kedhand had no definite object in view when, 
 with the assistance of March Marston, he lifted 
 the canoe and placed it in the stream to ascertain 
 that it was water-tight, and then replaced it on 
 the bank with the paddles close beside it. But he 
 had a general idea, founded on experience, that a 
 good canoe was a useful thing in many suppos- 
 able circumstances, and that it was as well to 
 know where such an article was to be found. 
 
 " We shall have to go cautiously now," said 
 he, before resuming the march. " The Injuns 
 are not far off, as ye may see by yonder thin 
 line o' smoke that rises above the trees on the 
 mountain side. If they are the men we seek, 
 they're sharp as foxes, so we'll have to step like 
 the painter/' 
 
 Bertram looked up quickly at the last word 
 then he smiled the next moment as he remem- 
 bered that the panther was thus styled by trap- 
 pers. 
 
BERTRAM ACCOMPANIES REDHAND. 137 
 
 Proceeding cautiously forward in single file, 
 they at length gained a spot beyond which they 
 could not advance without running the risk of 
 being discovered. Here another halt was made, 
 and here it was agreed that Redhand should 
 advance alone, near enough to ascertain whether 
 the Indians, whose camp they were approaching, 
 were actually the scamps who had robbed Bertram 
 of his horses. The old trapper was about to set 
 forward when Bertram stopped him. 
 
 " Methinks, old man," said he, " it were well 
 that I should accompany you on this expedition, 
 which I foresee is one of no, little danger ; and as 
 the danger is encountered chiefly on my account, 
 it seems to me right and fitting that I should 
 share it along with you. Besides, two are better 
 than one in a struggle, whether mental or 
 physical/' 
 
 Eedhand looked a little perplexed. He did 
 not like to tell the poor artist that he was totally 
 unfit to make a stealthy approach to an Indian 
 camp, yet he felt that the danger of failure would 
 be increased tenfold if he allowed him to make 
 the attempt ; but Bertram pleaded so earnestly, 
 and, withal, so resolutely, that he at length con- 
 sented, on condition of his doing nothing but 
 what he was desired to do, and keeping as quiet 
 as a mouse. This the artist promised to do, and 
 the two accordingly set forth, armed with their 
 knives and the two pistols. Bertram also carried 
 
138 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 his sword. The rest of the party were to remain 
 in ambush until the return of the others. 
 
 During the first part of their advance through 
 the wood Bertram trod as softly and carefully as 
 an Indian, and watched every motion of his com- 
 panion, who led him down into a ravine which 
 conducted them to within a few hundred yards of 
 the camp. From the absence of such noises as 
 the barking of dogs and shouts of children, the 
 old trapper conjectured that this must be either 
 a party of trappers or a war party of Indians. A 
 few minutes' creeping on hands and knees through 
 the underwood brought them to a spot whence 
 the camp could be seen, and showed that in the 
 latter conjecture he was right. The Red warriors, 
 forty in number, were seated in a circle round 
 their watch-fire smoking their tomahawks in 
 moody silence. 
 
 To the eye of Bertram they all seemed to be 
 lost in dreamy reverie, but Redhand observed, 
 with a feeling of anxiety, that he who seemed to 
 be their chief sat in that peculiar attitude which 
 indicates intense attention. Laying his hand on 
 Bertram's shoulder, the old man said, in the 
 faintest possible whisper 
 
 " Yonder sits the thief, an't he ? " 
 
 Bertram at once recognized in the chief of the 
 band before him Big Snake, the Indian who had 
 stolen his horses and property ; so he nodded his 
 head violently, and looked excited, but wisely 
 
BERTRAM BECOMES NERVOUS AGAIN. 139 
 
 refrained from speech, lest his voice should be 
 overheard. 
 
 Kedhand shook his head. "The thief/' said 
 he, in a tone that was scarcely audible, " has 
 heard us : I see by his face that he suspects he 
 has heard something, and he knows that it was 
 not the falling of a leaf. If we break a twig now 
 we're done for." 
 
 B/edhand meant this to be a salutary caution to 
 his companion, which would insure a noiseless 
 retreat. To men of his own stamp it would have 
 been useful, but he little knew the peculiar tem- 
 perament of his friend ; the mere idea of the suc- 
 cess of the whole expedition depending upon his 
 extreme care, unhinged the nerves of the poor 
 artist, who, although absolutely a brave man, in 
 the true sense of the term, could no more control 
 his nervous system than he could perform an 
 Indian war-dance. He could have rushed single- 
 handed on the whole body of warriors with ease, but 
 he could not creep among the dry twigs that 
 strewed the ground without trembling like an 
 aspen-leaf lest he should break one. 
 
 It is wonderful, however, what necessity will 
 enable men to do. Bertram did creep after his 
 friend, back towards the spot where the rest of 
 his party lay, as softly and noiselessly as if he had 
 been bred to the work from infancy. On regain- 
 ing the edge of the ravine, they rose and advanced 
 in a crouching posture. Then Bertram sighed, 
 
140 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 and felt that imminent danger was over. Alas ! 
 that feeling of partial security cost him dear. The 
 step that succeeded the sigh was a careless one. 
 His foot caught in a projecting root, and next 
 moment he went headforemost into the centre of 
 a decayed bush with a crackling crash that was 
 absolutely appalling in the circumstances. 
 
 Redhand cast upon the luckless man one glance 
 of horror, and, uttering the words, " Run for your 
 life ! " dashed down the bank, and coursed along 
 the bottom like a hare. At the same moment 
 that terrific yell, which has so often chilled the 
 heart's blood of men and women in those western 
 wilds, rang through the forest, telling that they 
 were discovered, and that the Indians were in 
 pursuit. 
 
 Bertram kept close to the heels of the old 
 trapper at first, but before he had run fifty yards 
 he tripped and fell again. On attempting to rise 
 he was seized and thrown violently to the ground 
 by an Indian warrior. Looking back and ob- 
 serving this, Redhand turned at once, like a hare 
 doubling on its course, and rushed to the rescue ; 
 but before he reached his friend he was sur- 
 rounded by a dozen yelling Indians. At the fore- 
 most of these he levelled his pistol, but the faith- 
 less weapon missed fire, and he was in the act of 
 hurling it at his adversary, when a blow from 
 behind felled him to the ground. 
 
 While this was going on, the trappers were 
 
FLIGHT AND DISPERSION. 141 
 
 bounding to the succour of their comrades. When 
 they came to the field of action and saw neither 
 of their friends (for they had been borne swiftly 
 away), and beheld an overwhelming band of 
 armed savages rushing towards them, they at 
 once perceived that strength or courage could 
 avail them nothing in such an unequal conflict ; 
 so they turned and fled, scattering themselves 
 among the bushes so as to divert pursuit as much 
 as possible. 
 
 Bounce and Gibault were the only two who 
 kept together. These made for the spot where 
 the canoe had been left, but the latter outran the 
 former so quickly that he was soon lost to view 
 ahead of him. In a few minutes Bounce gained 
 the bank of the stream, and seized the end of the 
 canoe. To his amazement Gibault was nowhere 
 to be seen. But he had no time for though t, for 
 at that moment he was discovered by two Indians 
 who ran towards him. The canoe was launched, 
 and a paddle seized in an instant, but the trusty 
 trapper was loath, even in his extremity, to push 
 off while his comrade might be in danger. 
 
 " Ho ! Gibault ! Gibault Noir ! " he shouted. 
 " Quick, lad ; yer too late almost, ho ! " 
 
 Grinding his teeth in an agony of anxiety, he 
 made a sudden dart at the foremost Indian, who 
 little dreamed of such an attack, and hit him with 
 the paddle with all his force. The savage dropped 
 like a stone, and the paddle flew into a dozen 
 
142 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 splinters. This was a foolish act on the part of 
 Bounce, for the second Indian was now close upon 
 him, and, seeing the fate of his companion, he 
 stopped short, and hastily fitted an arrow to his 
 bow. Just then several of the savages burst from 
 the wood with fierce cries. There was no time 
 to lose. Bounce turned, pushed off the canoe, 
 and leaped in as an arrow grazed his neck. 
 
 The bold trapper's condition seemed hopeless ; 
 for, having broken the paddle to pieces, he could 
 not propel his little bark out of danger. The 
 stream was broad and rapid at that place, and 
 swept him away swiftly. Immediately a shower 
 of arrows fell around him, some grazing his person 
 and piercing his clothes and the canoe, but for- 
 tunately not wounding him. 
 
 Meanwhile three of the Indians darted down 
 stream, and, throwing themselves into the cur- 
 rent, swam out so as to intercept the canoe as 
 it passed. Bounce, having laid down at full 
 length in the bottom of his tiny bark to avoid the 
 arrows which were discharged at him, did not 
 observe these men, and the first intimation he 
 had of what was taking place was the canoe being 
 nearly upset, as a powerful savage laid hold of the 
 side of it. 
 
 To draw his knife and pass it round the wrist 
 of the Indian, so as to sever the tendons, was the 
 work of a moment. The savage fell back with a 
 yell of mingled rage and pain. The others seeing 
 
BOUNCE ESCAPES. 143 
 
 what had occurred, wisely turned and made for 
 the shore. This incident was the means of saving 
 the trapper, for the Indians, fearful of wounding 
 their comrade, had ceased to discharge their 
 arrows, and when they again ventured to do so, 
 a tumultuous rapid had caught the canoe, and 
 whirled it nearly over to the opposite shore. 
 
 Bounce watched his opportunity. As he swept 
 near to a rocky point, he sprang towards it with 
 all his might. He fell short, but happily the 
 water did not reach above his knees. Next mo- 
 ment he sprang up the bank and stood on the 
 edge of the underwood, where he paused, and, 
 turning round, shook his clenched fist at his 
 enemies, and uttered a shout of defiance. 
 
 The disappointed Indians gave vent to a fiend- 
 ish howl, and discharged a cloud of arrows, most 
 of which fell short of their mark. Ere the last 
 shaft had fallen harmless to the ground, Bounce 
 had entered the forest and was gone. 
 
144 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Bounce cogitates upon the embarrassing Circumstances of 
 his Condition Discovery of Black Gibault Terrible 
 Pate in Store for their Comrades A Mode of "Rescue 
 planned Dreadful Effects of Fire-water The Rescue. 
 
 ABOUT ten minutes after making his escape from 
 his Indian foes, Bounce seated himself on the 
 trunk of a fallen tree and began to think upon 
 " Number One." 
 
 A little red squirrel had been seated on the trunk 
 of that tree just two minutes before his arrival. 
 It was now seated on the topmost branch of a 
 neighbouring pine, looking at the unceremonious 
 intruder, with a pair of brilliant black eyes, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 Possibly the reader may think that it was selfish 
 of Bounce, at such a time, to devote much atten- 
 tion to Number One. He had just escaped ; he 
 was in comparative safety; he was free; while 
 there could be little or no doubt that his late 
 companions were prisoners, if not killed, and 
 that, in the ordinary course of things, they would 
 eventually suffer death by torture. At such a 
 time and in such circumstances it would be 
 more natural, even in a selfish man, to think of 
 
145 
 
 any or of all the other numerals than number 
 one. 
 
 But, reader, I need scarcely tell you that things 
 are not always what they seem. Men are fre- 
 quently not so bad as, at a first glance, they would 
 appear to be. 
 
 Bounce always reasoned philosophically, and he 
 often thought aloud. He did so on this occasion, 
 to the immense edification of the little red squir- 
 rel, no doubt. At least, if we may judge from 
 the way in which it glared and stared at the 
 trapper peeped at him round the trunk of the 
 tree, and over the branches and under the twigs 
 and through the leaves, jerking its body and 
 quirking its head and whisking its tail we have 
 every reason to conclude that it experienced very 
 deep interest and intense excitement. Pleasure 
 and excitement being, with many people, con- 
 vertible terms, we have no reason for sup- 
 posing that it is otherwise with squirrels, and, 
 therefore, every reason for concluding that 
 the squirrel in question enjoyed Bounce's visit 
 greatly. 
 
 " Now this is wot it comes to," said Bounce, 
 calmly filling his pipe, from the mere force of 
 habit, for he had not at that time the most dis- 
 tant idea of enjoying a smoke. " This is wot it 
 comes to. Savages is savages all the wurld over, 
 and they always wos savages, an' they always Avill 
 be savages, an' they can't be nothin' else." 
 
 L 
 
146 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 At this point Bounce recollected having seen 
 an Indian missionary who had been taken when a 
 boy from his father's wigwam and educated, and 
 who had turned out as good and respectable a 
 Christian gentleman as most white men, and 
 better than many, so he checked himself and 
 said : 
 
 " Leastwise they can't be nothin' but savages 
 so so long as they is savages." 
 
 This argument, although exceedingly obvious, 
 seemed even to his own mind to possess so little 
 power, that he endeavoured to enforce it by slap- 
 ping his thigh with such energy that the body of 
 the red squirrel nearly jumped out at its own 
 eyes. It clasped the tree-stem to its beating 
 heart bravely, however, and, judging from its 
 subsequent conduct, speedily recovered its self- 
 possession. 
 
 "That's how it is," continued Bounce; "an' 
 that bein' the case, savages always invariably 
 thinks o' number one, before they thinks on 
 nothin' else. Now, as men judges theirselves so 
 they judges of others that's a fact, as all feelo- 
 sophy has preclaimed, an' all experience has 
 pruven. Wot then? Why, them savages '11 
 think I've cleared off made tracks thankful to 
 git away with my own skin whole, and carin' no 
 more for my comrades than if they wos so many 
 stumps. Thinkin' that, of coorse they'll think 
 it's o' no use to try to cross the river and give 
 
BOUNCE RESOLVES TO ACT. 147 
 
 chase, cause Fve got a long start o' em, an' so, 
 d'ye see, they'll give me up an' think no more 
 about me. Good ! very good ! But p'raps it's 
 jest poss'ble that feller whose paw I tickled may 
 sometimes recall me to mind." 
 
 This last idea tickled the trapper so powerfully 
 that he chuckled in a quiet way, and in doing so 
 exposed such a double row of white teeth that 
 the squirrel, which had remained for some time in 
 an attitude of deep attention, began to show 
 symptoms of uneasiness. 
 
 "Now, I'll tell you wot I'll do," continued 
 Bounce, resuming his look of grave anxiety, as 
 the thought of his comrades recurred to him; 
 " I'll go up the river till I comes to opposite the 
 place where I shoved the canoe into the water. 
 By the time I git there it'll be dark ; then I'll 
 swum across an' foller the redskins an' save my 
 comrades if I can. If I can't, wot then ? why 
 I'll leave the scalp of Bob Ounce to dangle in the 
 smoke of a redskin's wigwam." 
 
 We have elsewhere hinted that when a Rocky- 
 Mountain trapper makes up his mind to do a 
 certain thing he usually does it at once. Having 
 settled the plan of his future proceedings, Bounce 
 did not waste more time in thought or speech. 
 He thrust his unsmoked pipe into his bosom, 
 leaped up from the trunk of the fallen tree, and 
 darted from the spot with such sudden prompti- 
 tude, that the horrified squirrel sprang wildly into 
 L 2 
 
148 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 empty space and vanished from the scene for 
 ever ! 
 
 For a quarter of an hour Bounce glided noise- 
 lessly through the forest, keeping a course parallel 
 \vith the river. In the deepening gloom of eve- 
 ning, he appeared more like a spectre than a 
 human being so quick and agile were his mo- 
 tions as he flitted past the tree-stems, yet so noise- 
 less the tread of his moccasined foot. The bushes 
 were thick and in places tangled, compelling him 
 to stoop and twist and diverge right and left as 
 he sped along, but, being unencumbered with 
 weapons or weight of any kind, he advanced so 
 rapidly that in the short space of time we have 
 mentioned he stood opposite to that part of the 
 bank where the attack had been made, and below 
 which he had been swept for a great distance in 
 the canoe by the rapid stream. 
 
 Here he spent some time in reconnoitring the 
 opposite bank, but without gathering much in- 
 formation from his observations. No symptom 
 of the presence of human beings could be disco- 
 vered. No column of smoke rising above the 
 trees to tell of the watch-fire of white man or 
 red. The trapper listened intently, then he be- 
 thought him, for the first time, of giving the 
 signal which, at setting out on their journey, they 
 had agreed to use in all circumstances of danger. 
 It was the low howl of a wolf followed imme- 
 diately by the hoot of an owl. The reply to it 
 
BOUNCE DISCOVERS GIBAULT. 149 
 
 was to be the hoot of the owl without the cry of 
 the wolf when danger should be imminent and 
 extreme caution necessary, or the howl of the 
 wolf alone if danger should have passed away. 
 
 To the first utterance of the signal no reply 
 was made. After waiting a few seconds, Bounce 
 gave it forth again. Immediately after, the low 
 howl of a wolf was heard on the opposite bank, 
 and a figure appeared at the edge of the river. 
 Darkness prevented the trapper ascertaining who 
 it was, but a repetition of the cry convinced 
 him that it could be none other than Black 
 Gibault. 
 
 With a grunt of satisfaction, Bounce at once 
 proceeded to make preparations for crossing the 
 river. Cutting a large piece of bark from a 
 neighbouring tree, he hastily formed it into a 
 species of dish or flat boat ; then, stripping off all 
 his garments, he tied them up in a tight bundle, 
 and placed them in this miniature canoe ; after 
 which he plunged boldly into the stream and made 
 for the opposite shore, pushing his little ark before 
 him. In five minutes he had crossed, and entered 
 into a hasty conversation with Gibault, in low, 
 eager tones, while pulling on his clothes. 
 
 " First of all, lad," said Bounce, laying his hand 
 impressively on the other's shoulder, "are they all 
 safe? none killed?" 
 
 "Non; dey be all alive, for certain." 
 
 " I'm thankful for that very thankful. Now 
 
150 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 go ahead, lad, and tell me what ye know, while I 
 pull on my leggins." 
 
 " Veil, dey be alive, as I have say. Mais dey 
 not live long." 
 
 Gibault said this with such a look of woe- 
 begone despair that Bounce paused in the midst 
 of his dressing and said with much anxiety 
 "Wot's wrong ! why not, lad?" 
 
 " 'Cause dey vill be tortured to-death demain, 
 or de day apres de morrow. Stay, I vill tell to 
 you all I knows. You mus' know, ven I run 
 avay from you, I do so 'cause I know dat canoe 
 ver' probabilie git op turned, so I come to river 
 bank before every von. Dere is von big tree 
 dere, so op I go like von skvirrel. You know vat 
 come to pass apres dat. You smash de head of 
 de Injun, aussi, you smash de paddil. Den you 
 escape, an 5 de Injuns howl vid passion ! 
 
 " Ver' soon after dat, dey all come to de bank 
 of river forty of 'em, I tink draggin' our 
 comerades vid dem, all tied by de wrist Bed- 
 hand, an' Big Valler, an' March, an' Hawksving, 
 an' poor Monsieur Bertram. Mais, dat Monsieur 
 Bertram, be most 'straordinary man ! He terrible- 
 ment frightened for every leetil ting, but him not 
 fright von bit for big ting ! Hims look at de 
 sauvage dat hold him as if him be a lion. I do 
 tink Monsieur Bertram vould fight veil if hims 
 obleeged. 
 
 "After good deal of consultoration an' dis- 
 
THREATENED FATE OF THE TRAPPERS. 151 
 
 puterin', dey vas about for go avay ; so I sit ver' 
 still^ but I move my foot von leet' morsil, an' von 
 small leef fall to de ground. It vas ver' small 
 leaf, but Hawksving him see it. Ah ! he be von 
 cliver Injun. Ver' sharp in sight too ! I tink 
 him should be named Hawkse^e. No von else 
 notice it, but I see Hawksving visper to Big Val- 
 ler. Dat man be sharp feller too. He turns hims 
 back to de tree, nevair vonce looked up, but him 
 burst into loud laugh, like von tondre-clap, an' 
 cry out, ( Veil done, Gibault ! Keep close, old 
 feller; their village is one day off towards the 
 sun ! ' An' den he laugh again. Ah ! ho ! how 
 my heart him jomp ven he speak my name ! But 
 de Injuns tink hims yell out to some von cross de 
 river, for him looks dat vay. Veil, off dey go, 
 and I begin to breath more easy; but ven dey 
 git far off, I hear the voice of Big Valler come 
 back like far-avay tondre, cryin' ' Dey're goin' to 
 roast us alive to-morrow ; look sharp ! ' Dat vas 
 de last I hear. Den de darkness come, an' den 
 you come, an', now, vat is to come nixt ?" 
 
 Poor Gibault spoke fast, and perspired very 
 much, and looked wild and haggard, for his 
 nature was sensitive and sympathetic, and the 
 idea of his comrades meeting with such a horrible 
 fate was almost too much for him. 
 
 Bounce's honest face assumed an expression of 
 deep anxiety, for, fertile though his resources 
 usually were, he could not at that moment con- 
 
152 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 ceive how it was possible for two unarmed men, 
 either by force or stratagem, to rescue five com- 
 rades who were securely bound, and guarded by 
 forty armed warriors, all of whom were trained 
 from infancy in the midst of alarms that made 
 caution and intense watchfulness second nature to 
 them. 
 
 " It looks bad," said Bounce, sitting down on 
 a stone, clasping his hard hands together, and 
 resting an elbow on each knee. " Sit ye down, 
 Gibault. We'll think a bit, an' then go to work. 
 That's wot we'll do d'ye see ? " 
 
 " Non, I don't see," groaned Gibault. " Vat 
 can ve do ? Two to forty ! If it was only swords 
 ve had to fight vid Hah ! But, alas ! we have 
 noting dey have everyting." 
 
 " True, lad, force won't do," returned Bounce; 
 " an' yit," he added, knitting his brows, " if 
 nothin' else '11 do, we'll try at least how much force 
 'Jl do." 
 
 After a short pause, Bounce resumed, Cf Wos 
 they tied very tight, Gibault?" 
 
 " Oui. I see de cords deep in de wrists, an' 
 poor Eedhand seem to be ver' moch stunned; he 
 valk as if hims be dronk." 
 
 " Drunk ! " exclaimed Bounce, suddenly spring- 
 ing up as if he had received an electric shock, 
 and seizing his companion by both shoulders, 
 while, for a moment, he gazed eagerly into his 
 eyes; then, pushing him violently away, he turned 
 
THE RESCUE PLANNED. 153 
 
 round and darted along the bank of the river, 
 crying, as he went, " Come along, Gibault ; I'll 
 tell ye wot's up as we go ! " 
 
 The astonished Canadian followed as fast as he 
 could, and, in an exclamatory interjectional sort 
 of way, his friend explained the plan of rescue 
 which he had suddenly conceived, and which was 
 as follows : 
 
 First he proposed to go back to the cache at 
 the foot of the tall tree, and dig up the keg of 
 brandy, with which he resolved to proceed to the 
 camp of the Indians, and, by some means or other, 
 get the whole clan to drink until they should 
 become intoxicated. Once in this condition, he 
 felt assured they could be easily circumvented. 
 
 Gibault grasped at this wild plan as a drowning 
 man is said to grasp at a straw, and lent his aid 
 right willingly to disentomb and carry the brandy- 
 keg. Neither he nor Bounce knew whether there 
 was enough brandy to intoxicate the whole tribe, 
 but they had no time to inquire minutely into 
 probabilities. 
 
 Vigorously, perseveringly, without rest or halt, 
 did these two trappers pursue their way that 
 night, with thelteg slung on a pole between them. 
 The stars glimmered down through the trees upon 
 their path, as if they wished them success in their 
 enterprise. It was all-important that they should 
 reach the Indian camp before day-break; so, 
 although footsore and weary from their late excr- 
 
154 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 tions after a long day's march, they nevertheless 
 ran steadily on at a long swinging trot, which 
 brought them, to their inexpressible joy, much 
 sooner than they had anticipated, to their jour- 
 ney's end. 
 
 It was two hours before dawn when they came 
 suddenly upon the camp, so suddenly that they 
 had to crouch the instant they saw the watch- 
 fires, in order to avoid being discovered. 
 
 " Now, Gibault," whispered Bounce, " you'll 
 have to remain here. Get into a hiding-place as 
 fast as ye can, and keep close. You're elever 
 enough to know what to do, and when to do it. 
 Only, lad, come near and have your knife handy 
 when the row is at the loudest, and see that ye 
 don't let the squaws cut out our livers when we're 
 tied up." 
 
 Gibault nodded significantly. 
 
 " It's a curious fact/' continued Bounce, in a 
 somewhat sad tone, " that I'm more afraid o' the 
 squaws than o' the men. Hows'ever, it's got to 
 be done ! " 
 
 So saying, Bounce shouldered the keg, and, 
 shaking his comrade by the hand, as if he felt that 
 he might be parting with him for ever, he glided 
 into the darkness of the forest, leaving Gibault to 
 secrete himself on the side of a mound, from which 
 he could witness all that went on in the camp. 
 
 Prom this* point of observation the poor Cana- 
 dian beheld what was not calculated to allay his 
 
THE INDIAN VILLAGE. 155 
 
 fears. The camp lay in a hollow,, surrounded by 
 trees. On an open space were erected several 
 leathern huts or tents, in the midst of which 
 blazed a large camp-fire. Round this the forty 
 warriors were seated, eating their supper, while 
 a number of squaws were sitting in the entrances 
 to their tents variously engaged. Horses hobbled 
 that* is, with the fore-feet tied together to pre- 
 vent their running away were cropping the grass 
 close to the tents. Not far from them, and within 
 the circle of light cast around by the fire, stood 
 a group of small trees. To each of these was tied 
 a man, and Gibault had no difficulty in making 
 them out to be his unfortunate comrades. 
 
 Occasionally, as he gazed, one or two of the 
 old Indian women went up to these helpless men, 
 with a yell of execration, and, brandishing scalp- 
 ing-knives before their faces, appeared as if about 
 to plunge them into their hearts ; but their time 
 had not yet come; the hags were only antici- 
 pating the feast of butchery that awaited them 
 on the morrow. 
 
 While Gibault was gazing at this scene with 
 mingled feelings of anxiety, rage, and horror, 
 the whole band of Indians suddenly sprang to 
 their feet and seized their weapons. Almost at 
 the same moment Bounce strode into the circle 
 of light and deposited his cask on the ground. 
 Then, making signs of peace, he advanced towards 
 
]56 THE WILD MAN OP THE WEST. 
 
 one of the Indians, who, from his dress and ap- 
 pearance, seemed to be the chief, and presented 
 him with a piece of tobacco. The chief accepted 
 the gift in silence. 
 
 Bounce, who was well acquainted with many of 
 the dialects of that region, had no difficulty in 
 making himself understood. He stated that he 
 was a trapper, that he had come to that country 
 to trade, and asked whether his Indian friends 
 had furs to dispose of. As he had anticipated, 
 the savages were in no mood to treat with a soli- 
 tary man who was entirely in their power. The 
 chief, who evidently suspected that he was a friend 
 of the prisoners, instead of replying, asked him 
 sarcastically what he had in the keg. 
 
 " Fire-water," replied Bounce, unhesitatingly. 
 
 At this the eyes of the savages sparkled with 
 delight. Not deigning to waste more time with 
 him, they seized the unfortunate trapper and con- 
 fronted him with his companions, gazing earnestly 
 in their faces the while to observe whether they 
 betrayed any sign of recognition. 
 
 It said much for the self-control of these hardy 
 men, that, although their comrade was thus sud- 
 denly and unexpectedly placed before them, they 
 did not permit a muscle of their countenances to 
 change, but gazed on him and on his captors with 
 that expression of defiant contempt with which 
 Indians usually meet their fate, and in which they 
 
BOUNCE A PRISONER. 157 
 
 are equalled, sometimes even outdone, by the 
 unfortunate white trappers who chance to fall into 
 their cruel hands. 
 
 And well was it, for the success of the scheme, 
 that Theodore Bertram's nerves had received such 
 repeated and awful shocks that day, that they 
 were now incapable of feeling. He had been so 
 terribly and repeatedly struck with amazement 
 that his features had assumed a settled expression 
 of surprise that could not be increased, so that 
 when he beheld Bounce a prisoner before him, 
 although he certainly felt astonishment, he could 
 by no means increase the expression of that sensa- 
 tion. The Indians, therefore, passed away from 
 him with a howl of derision, and tied Bounce to 
 a tree beside his comrades, concluding that, in- 
 stead of a plotter, they had, in him, made another 
 lucky capture. Anxiety to taste their beloved 
 beverage had something to do with their haste in 
 this matter,, no doubt. 
 
 No one who has not seen it can conceive of the 
 intense passion the North-American Indian has 
 for ardent spirits. He seems to have no power of 
 restraint whatever when the opportunity of in- 
 dulging that passion presents itself 
 
 The head of the keg was quickly knocked in, 
 and the eyes of the savages seemed positively to 
 flash as they gazed upon the precious fluid. The 
 chief advanced first with a little tin mug, such as 
 was sold to them by traders, and drank a deep 
 
158 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 draught; he then handed the cup to another, but 
 the impatience of the others could not be re- 
 strained; they crowded round with their mugs, 
 and dipping them into the keg, drank eagerly, 
 while the squaws, who loved the fire-water as 
 much as did their masters, formed an outer circle, 
 and, as patiently as they could, awaited their turn. 
 They knew full well that it would soon come. 
 
 The Indians, being unaccustomed to frequent 
 potations, were quickly maddened by the spirit, 
 which mounted to their brains and rushed through 
 their veins like wild-fire, causing every nerve in 
 their strong frames to tingle. Their characteristic 
 gravity and decorum vanished. They laughed, 
 they danced, they sang, they yelled, like a troop 
 of incarnate fiends ! Then they rushed in a body 
 towards their prisoners, and began a species of 
 war-dance round them, flourishing their toma- 
 hawks and knives close to their faces as if they 
 were about to slay them ; shrieking and howling, 
 in the most unearthly manner, and using all those 
 cruel devices that are practised by B/ed Indians to 
 terrify those unfortunates whom they intend ulti- 
 mately to kill. 
 
 Suddenly one of the warriors observed that the 
 squaws were stealthily approaching the spirit-keg, 
 and rushed towards them with a howl of fury, 
 followed by his comrades, who drove the women 
 away and recommenced drinking. And now a 
 fiercer spirit seemed to seize upon the savages ; 
 
The Drunsen Brawl. 
 
 P. 153. 
 
THE EFFECTS OF FIRE-WATEK. 159 
 
 old feuds and jealousies, that had long been che- 
 rished in silence, broke irresistibly forth. Angry 
 words and fierce looks were followed by the draw- 
 ing of knives. Suddenly a young man rushed 
 upon a comrade and buried his knife in his heart. 
 The piercing death-cry was followed by the venge- 
 ful yell of the relatives of the murdered man, as 
 they sprang upon the murderer. Others flew to 
 the rescue, and the drunken melee became general. 
 Blood began to flow freely, and there is no doubt 
 that many lives would have been sacrificed had 
 not the combatants been too much intoxicated to 
 fight with vigour. Many of them fell prostrate 
 and helpless on attempting to rise. Others dealt 
 their blows at random, staggering and falling one 
 upon another, until they lay in a heap, shrieking, 
 biting, tearing, and stabbing a bloody struggling 
 mass, which told more eloquently than tongue can 
 tell, that, deep and low though savage human 
 nature has fallen in sin and misery, there is a 
 depth profounder still, to which even those who 
 seem to be the lowest may be precipitated by the 
 fatal power of strong drink. 
 
 And now Gibault Noir felt that it was time for 
 him to draw near to the horrible scene, in order 
 to be ready, when the moment should arrive, to 
 release the prisoners, or to protect them in the 
 event of any of the drunken crew being tempfed 
 to a premature slaughter. 
 
 The women were now actively interfering to 
 
160 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 prevent farther bloodshed. Most of the Indians 
 were already dead drunk. Only a few, whose 
 powers of endurance were greater than those of 
 their comrades, continued to shout their war- 
 songs. When these were down, the women 
 rushed at the spirits like wolves. Even the little 
 children came out from the tents and got their 
 share. It was a terrible scene, such as has, alas ! 
 been often enacted before in the wilds of the Far 
 West, and, doubtless, shall be enacted again, 
 unless (so-called) Christian traders give up fire- 
 water as an article of traffic. 
 
 In a very short space of time the women were 
 as helpless as their masters. Then Gibault cut 
 the thongs that bound his comrades, and set them 
 free! 
 
 " Thanks, thanks to the Almighty," said Ber- 
 tram, earnestly, when his bonds were cut. "I 
 had thought that my days were numbered ; that 
 it was to be my sad fate to fill a grave here in the 
 wilderness. But His hand is indeed mighty to 
 save. And thanks be to you, good Gibault. 
 Under God we owe our lives to you." 
 
 Bertram attempted to seize Gibault's hand as 
 he spoke, but his own hands refused obedience to 
 his will. They had been so long and so tightly 
 bound that they were utterly powerless. 
 
 *" Rub 'em, rub 'em well," said Gibault, seizing 
 the artist's hands and enforcing his own recom- 
 mendation vigorously. 
 
161 
 
 " Ay, that's it," said Redhand, who, with his 
 companions, had, the instant he was loose, com- 
 menced to rub and chafe his own benumbed 
 limbs into vitality, as if his life and theirs de- 
 pended 011 their exertions as indeed they did to 
 no small extent, for, had they been called upon 
 to fight or fly at that moment, they could have 
 clone neither. 
 
 " Now, lads," said Bounce, who, having been a 
 prisoner for but a short time, was unhurt by his 
 bonds, " while ye rub the life into yer limbs Til 
 tell ye wot we must do. Them scamps (pointing 
 to the prostrate Indians) won't lie there long. Of 
 course, bem' white men an' Christians, we don't 
 mean to kill them or to lift their scalps " 
 
 " I've know'd white men," interrupted Red- 
 hand, "who called themselves Christians, and 
 didn't object to take scalps when they got the 
 chance." 
 
 " So have I," returned Bounce, " an' m ore's 
 the pity. It's sich-like blackguards as these that 
 keeps honest trappers and fur-traders for iver in 
 hot water here. Howsomediver, we're not agoin' 
 to turn ourselves into brute beasts 'cause they've 
 turned ^ezrselves into sich." 
 
 " I'm not so sure o' that," broke in Big 
 Waller, casting a scowling glance on the savages 
 as he surveyed a wound in his left arm, which, 
 although not serious, was, from want of dressing, 
 sufficiently painful, " I calc'late it would serve 
 M 
 
162 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 them reptiles right if we was to whangskiver the 
 whole on 'em as they lie." 
 
 "I don't b'lieve," retorted Bounce, "that 
 'whangskiver' is either English, Injun, French, 
 or Yankee; but if it means killin' you'll do 
 nothing o' the sort. Here's what we'll do. We'll 
 ketch as many horses as wos took from Mr. 
 Bertram's fellers, an' as many guns too (the same 
 ones if we can lay hands on 'em), an' as much 
 powder an' shot an' other things as that keg o' 
 brandy is worth, an' then we'll bid the red- 
 skins good-by without wakenin' of 'em up." 
 
 "Goot," ejaculated Gibault, pausing in his 
 manipulation of the artist, " now you can do ! " 
 
 " Capital ; thanks, I feel quite strong again." 
 
 "I say, Gibault," observed March, ruefully, 
 "they've almost sawed through the skin o' my 
 ankle. I've no left foot at all, as far as feelin' goes." 
 
 " Hah ! me boy, ^tis well you have foot left, 
 though you not feel left foot ! Let me see." 
 
 " That's it, Gibault, rub away ; if your jokes 
 were as good as your surgery you'd be too good, 
 a long way, for the backwoods." 
 
 By dint of chafing and rubbing and leaping 
 and stamping, the whole party were soon restored 
 to a serviceable condition, after which they set 
 about active preparations for departure. 
 
 First they ransacked the tents, where they 
 discovered all the guns that had been taken 
 from Bertram's party. These they tied up in 
 
163 
 
 a bundle, after each had secured one for his 
 own use. Among them the artist found, to his 
 intense delight, his own double-barrelled gun, the 
 loss of which he had mourned most sincerely. 
 
 Next, they secured the horses, which, being 
 hobbled, as we have said elsewhere, were easily 
 caught. Then the powder-horns and shot-belts 
 of Bertram's party were found,, and, being full of 
 ammunition, were slung across their shoulders 
 forthwith. Among other things belonging to the 
 same party were discovered a number of blankets, 
 some tea and sugar, and a variety of other useful 
 articles, besides several packs of furs : all of which 
 were made up into portable bundles that could be 
 easily carried at their saddle-bows. The supply 
 of everything was so ample that it was not 
 necessary to touch a single article belonging to 
 the Indians. 
 
 This was a matter of much satisfaction to Red- 
 hand, who wished to show these unfortunate chil- 
 dren of the wilderness that there were at least 
 some white trappers who were actuated by dif- 
 ferent and kindlier feelings than many who sought 
 their livelihood in those regions. 
 
 " Hullo ! wot have we here ? " cried Big 
 Waller, who was poking inquisitively about among 
 the tents, to the consternation of the poor Indian 
 children who lay huddled up in their rabbit-skin 
 blankets, trembling from head to foot, and ex- 
 pecting to be scalped forthwith, such of them, 
 M 2 
 
164 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 at least, as were old enough to expect anything. 
 " Here's your blunderbusses, I guess, mister/ 
 
 " What ! my pistols/' cried Bertram, seizing his 
 weapons with as much delight as if they had been 
 really serviceable. 
 
 " Hah ! ver' goot for play vid," observed 
 Gibault, contemptuously. 
 
 " I say, here's something else," said Bounce, 
 picking tip a rifle. 
 
 " Wah ! " exclaimed Hawkswing, pointing to 
 the weapon in surprise, and turning his eyes on 
 Redhand. 
 
 "Wot! d'ye know who it b'long'd to?" 
 inquired Bounce. 
 
 An expression of deep sorrow overspread Ked- 
 hand's countenance. "Ay/' said he, mournfully, 
 I know it well. It belonged to young Blake." 
 Glancing quickly up at a place where several 
 scalps were hanging to a pole, he took one down, 
 and, after gazing at it sadly for a few seconds, he 
 added, in a tone of deep melancholy "Poor, 
 poor Blake ! ye had a hearty spirit an.' a kindly 
 heart. Your huntin' days are soon over ! " 
 
 " Was he a friend of yours ? " inquired Ber- 
 tram, affected by the old trapper's look and tone. 
 
 " Ay, ay, he was, he was," said Redhand, quickly, 
 and with a sternness of manner that surprised his 
 companions ; " come, lads, mount ! mount ! The 
 redskins won't part with plunder without making 
 an effort to get it back." 
 
OUT IN THE PRAIRIE ON HORSEBACK. 165 
 
 " But, stop a bit, Redhand," cried Bounce, 
 detaining the old man, ' : ye didn't use for to be 
 so hot an' hasty. Where are we to go to ? That's 
 wot I want to know." 
 
 "True/' observed Redhand, in his old gentle 
 tones, "we've more horses than we need, and 
 some furs to dispose of. There's a tradin' fort in 
 the mountains, but it's a good bit from this." 
 
 " What o' that ? " said March Marston, some- 
 what impetuously, " are we not armed and well 
 mounted, and strong, and have we not lots o' time 
 before us?" 
 
 " Well said," cried Bounce. 
 
 "Ditto," echoed Waller. 
 
 " Then we'll do it ! " cried Redhand, vaulting 
 into the saddle with a spring that a young man 
 might have envied. 
 
 The others followed his example, and in a few 
 seconds they were picking their way carefully 
 down the ravine in which the Indian camp was 
 situated. Leaving this quickly behind, they 
 trotted briskly along the more open banks of the 
 river until they gained a level sweep of land which 
 terminated in a belt of low bushes. Beyond this 
 lay the great plains. Breaking into a gallop, they 
 speedily cleared the underwood, and just as the 
 rosy smile of morning beamed in the eastern sky, 
 they dashed away, with light hearts and loose 
 reins, out upon the springy turf of the open 
 prairie. 
 
1G6 THE WILD MAN OP THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Short Treatise on Horseflesh Remarks on Slang Doings 
 and Sights on the Prairie The Mountain Eovt. 
 
 A HORSE is a wonderful thing if we may presume 
 to style so noble a creature " a thing ! " And the 
 associations connected in some minds with a horse 
 are wonderful associations. No doubt a horse, to 
 many people, is a common-place enough sort of 
 thing ; and the associations connected with horse- 
 flesh in general, in some minds, are decidedly 
 low having relation to tugging a cart, or tum- 
 bling along with a plough, or rattling with a cab, 
 or prancing in a carriage, or being cut up into 
 butcher's-meat for cats and dogs. Nevertheless, 
 a horse is a wonderful creature ; and man's asso- 
 ciations in connection with him are, not un- 
 frequently, of the most wonderful and romantic 
 kind. Talk to the warrior of his steed, and he 
 will speak of him as of his dearest friend. Talk 
 to the Arab of his horse, and he will talk of his 
 pefc, his spoiled child ! As it is with these, so is 
 it with the trapper of the western prairies. 
 
 After a few weeks' acquaintance, the trapper 
 and his horse become one part and parcel of 
 
THE TRAPPER AND HIS HORSE. 167 
 
 eacli other, at least as far as it is possible for man 
 and horse to amalgamate. On the one hand, the 
 horse is tended, hobbled, patted, saddled, spoken 
 to, watched over, and tenderly cared for by the 
 man ; on the other hand, the man is carried, re- 
 spected, sometimes bitten (playfully), depended 
 on, and loved by the horse. Day after day, and 
 week after week, the limbs of the one and the ribs 
 of the other are pressed against each other, until 
 they become all but united, and the various play 
 of muscles on the part of both becomes so deli- 
 cately significant that the bridle, to a great 
 extent, becomes unnecessary, and the rider feels 
 when the horse is about to shy, just as quickly 
 as the horse feels, by a gentle pressure on either 
 side, how much the rider wishes him to diverge to 
 the right or left. 
 
 Sometimes the horse breaks his hobbles and 
 runs away, thus aggravating the spirits of, and 
 causing infinite annoyance to, the man. Fre- 
 quently the man, out of revenge for such or 
 similar freaks, larrups and pains and worries the 
 horse. But these little asperities are the occa- 
 sional landmarks that give point and piquancy to 
 the even tenour of their loving career. Neither 
 would, for a moment, think of allowing such inci- 
 dents to rankle in his bosom. Both would re- 
 pudiate with scorn the idea that they were a whit 
 less useful, or in any degree less attached to each 
 other on account of such trifling tiffs ! 
 
168 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 Day after day, our trappers mounted their 
 steeds and traversed the great prairie now at a 
 rattling trot, now at a tearing gallop ; frequently 
 at a quiet foot-pace, when the nature of the ground 
 rendered a more rapid progress dangerous, or 
 when the exhaustion of horses and men rendered 
 rest necessary, or when the beautiful nature of 
 the scenery and the warm sunny condition of the 
 atmosphere induced a contemplative frame of 
 mind and a placid state of body. 
 
 Night after night the horses having stuffed 
 themselves, like greedy things as they were, with 
 the greenest and tenderest herbage on the rich 
 plains returned to the camp-fire round which 
 the trappers were lying in deep slumber, and each 
 selecting his own master, would stand over him 
 with drooping head and go to sleep, until dawn 
 called them again to united action. 
 
 Thus day and night passed for the space of 
 three weeks after the night of the surprise of 
 the Indian camp, without anything particular 
 occurring ; and thus quadrupeds and bipeds came 
 to be so familiar and well acquainted with each 
 other so thoroughly united in sympathetic action 
 as almost to become hexapeds, if we may be 
 permitted the expression. 
 
 March Marston's quadruped was a beautiful 
 little bay, whose tendency to bound over every 
 little stick and stone, as if it were a five-barred 
 gate, and to run away upon all and every occa- 
 
ON SLANG. 1G9 
 
 sion, admirably suited the tastes and inclinations 
 of its mercurial rider. 
 
 There was one among the quadrupeds which 
 was striking in appearance not to say stunning. 
 No; we won't say stunning, because that is a 
 slang expression, and many persons object to 
 slang expressions; therefore we will avoid that 
 word ; although we confess to being unable to see 
 why, if it is allowable (as every one will admit it 
 is) to assert that men may be mentally " struck," 
 it is not equally proper to say that they may be 
 stunned. But we bow to prejudice. We won't 
 say that that horse was " stunning.''' While on 
 this subject, we think it right to guard ourself, 
 parenthetically, from the charge of being favour- 
 able to all kinds of slang. We are in favour of 
 speech yes, we assert that broadly and fear- 
 lessly, without reservation but we are not in 
 favour of all speech. Coarse speech, for instance, 
 we decidedly object to. So, we are in favour of 
 slang, but not of all slang. There are some slang 
 words which are used instead of oaths, and these, 
 besides being wicked, are exceedingly con- 
 temptible. Tempting, however, they are too 
 apt to slip from the tongue and from the pen, 
 and to cause regret afterwards. 
 
 But to return. Although we won't say that 
 the quadruped in question was stunning, we will 
 say again that it was striking so powerfully 
 striking that the force of the stroke was calcu- 
 
170 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 lated almost to stun. It was uncommonly tall, 
 remarkably short in the body, and had a piebald 
 coat. Moreover, it had no tail to speak of as 
 that member had, in some unguarded moment, 
 got into the blaze of the camp-fire and been burnt 
 off close to the stump. The stump, however, was 
 pretty long, and, at the time when the trappers 
 became possessed of the animal, that appendage 
 was covered with a new growth of sparsely scat- 
 tered and very stiff hair, about three inches long, 
 so that it resembled a gigantic bottle-brush. Being 
 a spirited animal, the horse had a lively bottle- 
 brush, which was grotesque, if it was nothing 
 else. 
 
 This quadruped's own particular biped was 
 Theodore Bertram. He had a peculiar liking for 
 it (as he had for everything picturesque), not 
 only on account of its good qualities which 
 were, an easy gait and a tender mouth but also 
 because it was his own original animal, that of 
 which he had been deprived by the Indians, and 
 which he had recaptured with feelings akin to 
 those of a mother who recovers a long-lost 
 child. 
 
 We have said that the space of three weeks 
 passed without anything particular occurring 
 to our trappers. This remark, however, must 
 be taken in a limited sense. Nothing particu- 
 larly connected with the thread of this story 
 occurred; though very many and particularly 
 
DOINGS ON THE PRAIRIE. 171 
 
 interesting things of a minor nature did occur 
 during the course of that period. 
 
 It would require a work equal in size to the 
 " Encyclopedia Britannica" to contain all the 
 interesting things that were said and seen and 
 done on those prairies by these trappers within 
 that brief space of time. A conscientiously par- 
 ticular chronicler of events would have detailed 
 the route of each day, the latitude and longitude 
 of each resting-place, the very nature of the wood 
 which composed the fuel of each fire. He would 
 have recorded that March Marston's little bay 
 ran away with him (not, in a general way, fifty or 
 a hundred times, but) exactly so many times, spe- 
 cifying the concomitant circumstances of each 
 separate time, and the results of each particular 
 race. He would have noted, with painful accu- 
 racy, the precise number of times in which Theo- 
 dore Bertram (being a bad rider) fell off his horse, 
 or was pitched off in consequence of that quadru- 
 ped putting its foot inadvertently into badger- 
 holes. He would have mentioned that on each 
 occasion the unfortunate artist blackened his eye, 
 or bled or skinned his nasal organ, and would 
 have dilated anatomically on the peculiar colour 
 of the disfigured orb and the exact amount of 
 damage done to the bruised nose. He would 
 have told not only the general fact that bears, and 
 elks, and antelopes^ and prairie-dogs, and wolves, 
 and buffaloes, were seen in great numbers conti- 
 
172 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 nually, and were shot iii abundance, but he would 
 have recorded that Bertram did, on one occasion, 
 in the height of his enthusiastic daring, give a 
 shout and draw one of his blunderbuss pistols, on 
 observing a grisly bear at a short distance ahead 
 of him ; that he dashed his heels violently against 
 the sides of his remarkable horse ; that the said 
 horse did toss his head, shake his bottle-brush, 
 and rush full-tilt towards the bear until he caught 
 sight of it, when he turned off at a sharp angle, 
 leaving Bertram on the plain at the mercy of the 
 bear; that Bruin, who was in nowise alarmed, 
 observing his condition, came to see what was the 
 matter with him ; and that he, Mr. Bertram, 
 would certainly have fallen a victim to his own 
 headstrong courage on the one hand, and to the 
 bear's known tendency to rend human beings on 
 the other, had not March come up at that moment 
 and shot it through the heart, while Redhand 
 shot it through the brain. 
 
 And this supposed conscientious chronicler of 
 events, had he been a naturalist, would have far- 
 ther detailed, with graphic particularity, the rich, 
 exuberant, and varied flora of the region from 
 the largest plant that waved and blossomed in the 
 prairie-winds to the lowliest floweret that nestled 
 among the tender and sweet-scented grasses on 
 the prairie's breast. In regard to the fauna 
 of those regions, he would have launched out 
 upon the form, the colour, size, habits, peculiar:- 
 
MA11CH BECOMES MADDER THAN EVER. 173 
 
 ties, &c., of every living thing, from the great 
 buffalo (which he would have carefully explained 
 was not the buffalo, but the bison) down to the 
 sly, impudent, yet harmless little prairie-dog 
 (which he would have also carefully noted was 
 not the prairie-dog, but the marmot). 
 
 Had this supposed recorder of facts been of an 
 erratic nature, given to wander from anecdote to 
 description, and vice versa, he would perhaps have 
 told, in a parenthetical sort of way, how that, 
 during these three weeks, the trappers enjoyed 
 uninterrupted fine weather; how the artist 
 sketched so indefatigably that he at last filled 
 his book to overflowing and had to turn it up- 
 side down, begin at the end, and sketch on the 
 backs of his previous drawings ; how Big Waller 
 and Black Gibault became inseparable friends and 
 sang duets together when at full gallop, the latter 
 shrieking like a wild cat, the former roaring like 
 a buffalo bull; how March Marston became 
 madder than ever, and infected his little steed 
 with the same disease, so that the two together 
 formed a species of insane compound that caused 
 Eedhand and Bounce to give vent to many a low 
 chuckle and many a deep sagacious remark, and 
 induced Hawkswing to gaze at it the compound 
 in grave astonishment. 
 
 All this and a great deal more might be told, 
 and, no doubt, might prove deeply interesting. 
 But, as no man can do everything, so no man can. 
 
174 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 record everything; therefore we won't attempt it, 
 but shall at once, and without further delay, pro- 
 ceed to that part of our tale which bears more 
 directly on the Rocky Mountains and the Wild 
 Man of the West himself. 
 
 " It's a strong place," said Redhand, checking 
 the pace of his horse and pointing to a small edifice 
 or fort which stood on the summit of a little mound 
 or hill about a quarter of a mile in advance of 
 them " a very strong place such as would puzzle 
 the redskins to break into if defended by men of 
 ordinary pluck." 
 
 " Men of pluck sometimes get careless, and go 
 to sleep, though," said March Marston, riding up 
 to the old trapper ; " Fve heard o' such forts bein' 
 taken by redskins before now." 
 
 " So have I, lad, so have I," returned Redhand; 
 " I've heard o' a fort bein' attacked by Injuns 
 when the men were away hunting an' bein' burnt 
 down. But it ginerally turns out that the whites 
 have had themselves to thank for't." 
 
 " Ay, that's true, observed Bounce ; " some o' 
 the whites in them parts is no better nor they 
 should be. They treats the poor Injuns as if they 
 wos dogs or varmints, an' then they're astonished 
 if the redskins murder them out o' revenge. I 
 know'd one feller as told me that when he lived 
 on the west side o' the mountains, where some of 
 the Injuns are a murderin' set o' thieves, he niver 
 lost a chance o' killin' a redskin. Of course 
 
MARRYING FOR PEACE. 175 
 
 the redskins niver lost a chance o' killin' 
 the whites ; an' so they come to sich a state 
 o' war, that they had to make peace by givin' 
 them no end o' presents o' guns an' cloth 
 an' beads enough to buy up the furs o' a whole 
 tribe. 
 
 " I guess they was powerful green to do any- 
 thing o' the sort/' said Big Waller ; " I knowed a 
 feller as was in command of a party o' whites, 
 who got into much the same sort of fix with the 
 Injuns always fightin' and murdering so what 
 does he do, think ye ? " 
 
 " Shooted de chief and all hims peepil," sug- 
 gested Gibault. 
 
 "Nothin' o' the sort/' replied Waller. "He 
 sends for the chief, an' gives him a grand present, 
 an' says he wants to marry his darter. An' so he 
 did marry his darter, right off, an' the whites an' 
 redskins was friends ever after that. The man 
 what did that was a gentleman too so they said; 
 tho' for my part I don't know wot a gentleman 
 is no more do I b'lieve there ain't sich a thing ; 
 but if there be, an' it means anything good, I 
 calc'late that that man wos a gentleman, for w'en 
 he grew old he took his old squaw to Canada with 
 him, 'spite the larfin' o' his comrades, who said 
 he'd have to sot up a wigwam for her in his gar- 
 den. But he says, " No/ says he, ' I married 
 the old ooman for better an' for worse, an' I'll 
 stick by her to the last. There's too many o' you 
 
176 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 chaps as leaves yer wives behind ye when ye go 
 home I'm detarmined to sot ye a better ex- 
 ample/ An' so he did. He tuk her home an* 
 put her in a grand house in some town in Canada 
 I don't well mind which, but when he wasn't 
 watchin' of her, the old ooman would squat down 
 on the carpet in the drawin'-room, for, d'ye see, 
 she hadn't bin used to chairs. His frinds used to 
 advise him to put her away, an' the kindlier sort 
 said he should give her a room to herself, and not 
 bring her into company where she warn't at ease; 
 but no, the old man said always, ' She's my law- 
 ful wedded wife, an' if she was a buffalo cow I'd 
 stick by her to the last' an' so he did." 
 
 "Vraiment he was von cur'ous creetur," ob- 
 served Gibault. 
 
 " See, they have descried us ! " exclaimed Ber- 
 tram, pointing to the fort, which they were now 
 approaching, and where a bustle among the in- 
 habitants showed that their visitors were not 
 always peacefully disposed, and that it behoved 
 them to regard strangers with suspicion. 
 
 " Would it not be well to send one of our party 
 on in advance with a white flag?" observed 
 Bertram. 
 
 "No need for that," replied Redhand, "they're 
 used to all kinds o' visitors friends as well as 
 foes. I fear, however, from the haste they show 
 in closing their gate that they aint on good terms 
 with the Injuns." 
 
ARRIVAL AT THE TORT. 177 
 
 " The redmen and the pale-faces are at war/' 
 said Hawkswing. 
 
 " Ay, you're used to the signs, no doubt/' re- 
 turned Redhand, "for you've lived here once 
 upon a time, I b'lieve." 
 
 The Indian made no reply, but a dark frown 
 overspread his countenance for a few minutes. 
 "When it passed, his features settled down into 
 their usual state of quiet gravity. 
 
 " Have ye ever seed that fort before ? " in- 
 quired Bounce, in the Indian tongue. 
 
 " I have/' answered Hawkswing. " Many 
 moons have passed since I was in this spot. My 
 nation was strong then. It is weak now. Few 
 braves are left. We sometimes carried our furs 
 to that fort to trade with the pale- faces. It is 
 called the Mountain Fort. The chief of the pale- 
 faces was a bad man then. He loved fire-water 
 too much. If he is there still, I do not wonder 
 that there is war between him and the redmen." 
 
 "That's bad," said Bounce, shaking his head 
 slowly "very bad; for the redskins '11 kill us 
 if they can, on account o' them rascally fur 
 traders. Hows'ever we can't mend it, so we must 
 bear it." 
 
 As Bounce uttered this consolatory remark, the 
 party cantered up to the open space in front of 
 the gate of the fort, just above which a man was 
 seen leaning quietly over the wooden walls of the 
 place with a gun resting on his arm. 
 
 N 
 
178 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Hallo ! " shouted this individual, when they 
 came within hail. 
 
 " Hallo ! " responded Bounce. 
 
 " Friends or foes, and where from ? " inquired 
 the laconic guardian of the fort. 
 
 " Friends/'' replied Redhand, riding forward, 
 "we come from the Yellowstone. Have lost 
 some of our property, but got some of it back, 
 and want to trade furs with you." 
 
 To this the sentinel made no reply, but, look- 
 ing straight at Big Waller, inquired abruptly, 
 " Are you the Wild Man ? " 
 
 " Wot wild man ? " said Waller, gruffly. 
 
 " Why, the Wild Man o' the West ? " 
 
 " No I hain't," said Waller, still more gruffly, 
 for he did not feel flattered by the question. 
 
 " Have you seen him ? " 
 
 " No I hain't, an' guess I shouldn't know him 
 if I had." 
 
 ' ' Why do you ask ? " inquired March Marston, 
 whose curiosity had been roused by these unex- 
 pected questions. 
 
 "Cause I want to know," replied the man 
 quitting his post and disappearing. In a few 
 minutes he opened the gate, and the trappers 
 trotted into the square of the fort. 
 
 The Mountain Fort, in which they now dis- 
 mounted, was one of those little wooden erections 
 in which the hardy pioneers of the fur-trade were 
 wont in days of old to establish themselves, in 
 
INTERIOR OF THE FORT. 179 
 
 the very heart of the Indian country. Such forts 
 may still be seen in precisely similar circum- 
 stances, and built in the same manner, at the 
 present day, in the Hudson's Bay territories; 
 with this difference that the Indians, having had 
 long experience of the good intentions and the 
 kindness of the pale-faces, no longer regard them 
 with suspicion. The walls were made of strong 
 tall palisades, with bastions built of logs at the 
 corners, and a gallery running all round inside 
 close to the top of the walls, so that the defenders 
 of the place could fire over the palisatles, if need 
 be, at their assailants. There was a small iron 
 cannon in each bastion. One large gate formed 
 the entrance, but this was only opened to admit 
 horsemen or carts ; a small wicket in one leaf of 
 the gate formed the usual entrance. 
 
 The buildings within the fort consisted of three 
 little houses, one being a store, the others dwell- 
 ing-houses, about which several men and women 
 and Indian children, besides a number of dogs, 
 were grouped. These immediately surrounded 
 the trappers as they dismounted. "Who com- 
 mands here ? " inquired Kedhand. 
 
 " I do/' said the sentinel before referred to, 
 pushing aside the others and stepping forward, 
 "at least I do at present. My name's McLeod. 
 He who ought to command is drunk. He's always 
 drunk." 
 
 There was a savage gruffness in the way in 
 N 2 
 
180 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 which McLeod said this that surprised the visitors, 
 for his sturdy, looking and honest countenance 
 seemed to accord ill with such tones. 
 
 " An' may I ask who he is ?" said Redhand. 
 
 " Oh yes, his name's Macgregor you can't see 
 him to-night, though. There '11 be bloody work 
 here before long if he don't turn over a new 
 leaf 
 
 McLeod checked himself as if he felt that he 
 had gone too far. Then he added in a tone that 
 seemed much more natural to him "Now, sirs, 
 come this way. Here" (turning to the men who 
 stood by), "look to these horses and see them 
 fed. Come into the hall, friends, an' the squaws 
 will prepare something for you to eat while we 
 have a smoke and a talk together." 
 
 So saying, this changeable man, who was a 
 strange compound of a trapper and a gentleman, 
 led the way to the principal dwelling-house, and, 
 throwing open the door, ushered his guests into 
 the reception-hall of the Mountain Fort. 
 
THE RECEPTION HALL. 181 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Original Efforts in the Art of Painting Fur-trading Hospi- 
 talityWonderful Accounts of the Wild Man of the 
 West, from an Eye-witness Buffalo-hunting, Scalping, 
 Murdering, and a Summary Method of inflicting Pun- 
 ishment. 
 
 THE reception-hall of the Mountain Fort, into 
 which, as we have stated, the trappers were ushered 
 by McLeod, was one of those curious apartments 
 which were in those days (and in a few cases 
 still are) created for the express purpose of " as- 
 tonishing the natives ! " 
 
 It was a square room, occupying the centre of 
 the house, and having doors all round, which 
 opened into the sleeping or other apartments of 
 the dwelling. In the front wall of this room were 
 the door, which led direct into the open air, and 
 the two windows. There were no passages in the 
 house it was all rooms and doors. One of these 
 doors, towards the back, opened into a species of 
 scullery but it was not exactly a scullery, neither 
 was it a kitchen, neither was it a pantry. The 
 squaws lived there especially the cooking-squaws 
 and a few favoured dogs. A large number 
 of pots and pans and kettles, besides a good 
 deal of lumber and provisions in daily use, also 
 
182 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 dwelt? there. A door led from this room out to 
 the back of the house, and into a small off- shoot, 
 which was the kitchen proper. Here a spirited 
 Trench Canadian reigned supreme in the midst of 
 food, fire, and steam, smoke, smells, and fat. 
 
 But, to return to the reception-hall. There 
 were no pictures on its walls, no draperies about 
 its windows, no carpets on its floors, no cloths on 
 its tables, and no ornaments on its mantel-shelf. 
 Indeed, there was no mantel-shelf to put orna- 
 ments upon. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, 
 the chairs, the tables; all were composed of 
 the same material wood. The splendour of 
 the apartment was entirely due to paint. Every- 
 thing was painted and that with a view solely to 
 startling effect. Blue, red, and yellow, in their 
 most brilliant purity, were laid on in a variety of 
 original devices, and with a boldness of contrast 
 that threw Moorish effort in that line quite into 
 the shade. The Alhambra was nothing to it ! 
 The floor was yellow ochre ; the ceiling was sky- 
 blue ; the cornices were scarlet, with flutings of 
 blue and yellow, and, underneath, a broad belt of 
 fruit and foliage, executed in an extremely ara- 
 besque style. The walls were light green, with 
 narrow bands of red down the sides of each plank. 
 The table was yellow, the chairs blue, and their 
 bottoms red, by way of harmonious variety. But 
 the grand point the great masterpiece in the 
 ornamentation of this apartment was the centre- 
 
DECORATION OF THE HALL. 183 
 
 piece in the ceiling, in the execution of which 
 there was an extraordinary display of what can 
 be accomplished by the daring flight of an original 
 genius revelling in the conscious possession of illi- 
 mitable power, without the paralyzing influence of 
 conventional education. 
 
 The device itself was indescribable. It was a 
 sun, or a star, or, rather, a union and com- 
 mingling of suns and stars in violent contrast, 
 wreathed with fanciful fruits and foliage, and 
 Cupids, and creatures of the now extinct species. 
 The rainbow had been the painter's palette ; Ge- 
 nius his brush ; Fancy-gone-mad his attendant ; 
 the total temporary stagnation of redskin facul- 
 ties his object, and ecstasy his general state of 
 mind, when he executed this magnificent chef- 
 d'oeuvre in the centre of the ceiling of the recep- 
 tion-hall at the Mountain Fort. 
 
 The fire-place was a capacious cavern in the 
 wall opposite the entrance-door, in which, during 
 winter, there usually burned a roaring bonfire of 
 liuge logs of wood, but where, at the time of which 
 we write, there was just enough fire to enable 
 visitors to light their pipes. When that fire blazed 
 up in the dark winter nights, the effect of that 
 gorgeous apartment was dazzling absolutely be- 
 wildering. 
 
 The effect upon our trappers when they entered 
 was sufficiently strong. They gazed round in 
 amazement, each giving vent to his feelings in his 
 
THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 own peculiar exclamatory grunt, or gasp,, or cougli. 
 In addition to this, Bounce smote his thigh with 
 unwonted vigour. Gibault, after gazing for a few 
 minutes, sighed out something that sounded like 
 magnifique ! and Bertram grinned from ear to ear ; 
 he went farther ; he laughed aloud an nnpo- 
 lite thing to do, in the circumstances, and, for a 
 grave man like him, an unusual ebullition of feel- 
 ing. But it was observed and noted that on this 
 occasion the artist did not draw forth his sketch- 
 book. 
 
 McLeod, who, from his speech and bearing, was 
 evidently a man of some education, placed chairs 
 for his visitors, took the lid off a large canister of 
 tobacco, and, pushing it into the middle of the 
 yellow table, said 
 
 " Sit ye down, friends, and help yourselves." 
 
 He set them the example by taking down his 
 own pipe from a nail in the wall, and proceeding to 
 fill it. Having done so, he took a piece of glowing 
 charcoal from the fire, and, placing it on the bowl, 
 began to smoke, glancing the while, with an 
 amused expression on his grave face, at the trap- 
 pers, who, while filling their pipes, kept gazing 
 round the walls and up at the ceiling. 
 
 " Ha ! " said he, " you are struck with our 
 hall (puff, puff) . It's rather (puff) an effective 
 one (puff). Have a light ? " 
 
 Bounce, to whom the light was offered, accepted 
 the same ; applied it to his pipe, and said 
 
THE ARTIST OF THE BACKWOODS. 185 
 
 "Well, yes (puff), it is (puff, puff), raitlier wot 
 ye may call (puff) pecooliar." 
 
 " Most visitors to this place think so," said Mc- 
 Leod. " The Indians highly approve of it, and 
 deem me quite a marvel of artistic power." 
 
 " Wot ! did you paint it ? " inquired Waller. 
 
 " I did/ 7 answered McLeod, with a nod. 
 
 " Vraiment, de Injuns am right in deir opinion 
 of you," cried Gibault, re-lighting his pipe, which, 
 in the astonished state of his mind, he had allowed 
 to go out. 
 
 McLeod smiled, if we may so speak, gravely, in 
 acknowledgment of the compliment. 
 
 " Ha ! " cried Gibault, turning to Bertram, as 
 if a sudden thought had occurred to him, "Mon- 
 sieur Bertram et Monsieur Mak Load, you be 
 broders. Oui, Monsieur Mak Load, dis mine 
 comrade him be von painteur." 
 
 " Indeed ? " said McLeod, turning to the artist 
 with more interest than he had yet shown towards 
 the strangers. 
 
 " I have, indeed, the honour to follow the noble 
 profession of painting," said Bertram, "but I 
 cannot boast of having soared so high as as " 
 
 " As to attempt the frescoes on the ceiling of a 
 reception-hall in the backwoods," interrupted 
 McLeod, laughing. " No, I believe you, sir ; but, 
 although I cannot presume to call you brother 
 professionally, still I trust that I may do so as an 
 amateur. I am delighted to see you here. It is 
 
186 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 not often we are refreshed with the sight of the 
 face of a civilized man in these wild regions/' 
 
 "Upon my word, sir, you are plain-spoken," 
 said March Marston, with a look of affected indig- 
 nation ; " what do you call us ? " 
 
 " Pardon me, young sir," replied McLeod, " I 
 call you trappers, which means neither civilized 
 nor savage ; neither fish, nor flesh, nor fowl " 
 
 " That's a foul calumny," cried Bounce, knock- 
 ing the ashes out of his pipe, and refilling it from 
 the canister; "it's wot may be called a a " 
 
 " Lie," suggested Waller. 
 
 " No," said Bounce, " it ain't that. I don't 
 like that word. It's a ugly word, an' you 
 shouldn't ought to use it, Waller. It's a error; 
 that's wot it is, in a feelosophical pint o' view. 
 Jest as much of a error, now, as it was in you, 
 Mister McLeod, putting so little baccy in this 
 here thing that there ain't none left." 
 
 " What ! is it all done ? " cried McLeod, rising, 
 and seizing the canister ; " so it is. I declare you 
 smoke almost as fast as the Wild Man himself; 
 for whom I mistook you, Mr. Waller, when I saw 
 you first, at some distance off." 
 
 Saying this, he left the room to fetch a further 
 supply of the soothing weed, and at the same 
 moment two squaws appeared, bearing smoking 
 dishes of white-fish and venison. 
 
 " That fellow knows something about the Wild 
 Man o' the West," said March Marston, in a low, 
 
FUR-TRADING HOSPITALITY. 187 
 
 eager tone, to his comrades. " Twice lias he men- 
 tioned his name since we arrived." 
 
 "So he has," observed Redhand, "but there 
 may be other wild men besides our one. 3 ' 
 
 " Unpossible," said Bounce, emphatically. 
 
 " Ditto," cried Waller, still more emphatically ; 
 " what say you, Hawkswing ? " 
 
 "There is but one Wild Man of the West, "re- 
 plied the Indian. 
 
 " By the way, Hawkswing, what was the name 
 Q 3 the rascally trader you said was in charge o' 
 this fort when you lived here?" asked Red- 
 hand. 
 
 " Mokgroggir," replied the Indian. 
 
 " Ha, Macgregor, ye mean, no doubt." 
 
 Hawkswing nodded. 
 
 "Here you are, friends," said McLeod, re- 
 entering the room with a large roll of tobacco. 
 " Help yourselves and don't spare it. There's 
 plenty more where that came from. But I see 
 the steaks are ready, so let us fall to, we can 
 smoke afterwards." 
 
 During the repast, to which the trappers 
 applied themselves with the gusto of hungry 
 men, March Marston questioned McLeod about 
 the Wild Man. 
 
 " The Wild Man 'o the West," said he in some 
 surprise ; " is it possible there are trappers in the 
 Rocky Mountains who have not heard of him ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said March, hastily, " we've heard 
 
188 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 of him, but we want to hear more particularly 
 about him, for the accounts don't all agree." 
 
 te Ha ! that's it," said Bounce, speaking with 
 difficulty through a large mouthful of fish, " that's 
 it. They don't agree. One says his rifle is thirty 
 feet long, another fort}*- feet, an' so on. There's 
 no gittin 5 at truth in this here " 
 
 A bone having stuck in Bounce's throat at 
 that moment he was unable to conclude the 
 sentence. 
 
 " As to the length of his rifle," said McLeod, 
 when the noise made by Bounce in partially 
 choking had subsided, "you seem to have got 
 rather wild notions about that, and about the 
 Wild Man too, I see." 
 
 "But he is a giant, isn't he ?" inquired March, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " N not exactly. Certainly he is a big fellow, 
 about the biggest man I ever saw but he's not 
 forty feet high ! " 
 
 March Marston's romantic hopes began to sink. 
 " Then he's an ordinary man just like one o' us," 
 he said, almost gloomily. 
 
 "Nay, that he is not," returned McLsod, 
 laughing. "Your comrade Waller does indeed 
 approach to him somewhat in height, but he's 
 nothing to him in breadth ; and as for ferocity, 
 strength, and activity, I never saw anything like 
 him in my life. He comes sometimes here to 
 exchange his furs for powder and lead, but he'll 
 
AN ACCOUNT OF THE WILD MAN. 189 
 
 speak to no one, except in the sharpest, gruffest 
 way. I think he's mad myself. But he seems 
 to lead a charmed life here; for although he has 
 had fights with many of the tribes in these parts, 
 he always puts them to flight, although he fights 
 single-handed." 
 
 " Single-handed ! " exclaimed Bounce in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Ay. I've seen him at it myself, and can 
 vouch for it, that if ever there was a born fiend 
 let loose on this earth it's the Wild Man of the 
 West when he sets-to to thrash a dozen Indians. 
 But I must do him the justice to say, that I 
 never heard of him making an unprovoked attack 
 on anybody. When he first came to these moun- 
 tains, many years ago before I came here the 
 Indians used to wonder who he was and what he 
 meant to do ; then after a while, seeing he had a, 
 good horse, a good rifle, and plenty of ammu- 
 nition, they tried to kill him ; but the first fellow 
 that tried that only tried it once. He lay in a 
 close thicket nigh to where the Wild Man used 
 to pass from his home in the mountains to places 
 where he used to hunt the elk and the buffalo, 
 so, when he came up, the Indian laid an arrow 
 on his bow. But the Wild Man's eye was sharp 
 as a needle. He stopped his horse, took aim like 
 a flash of lightning, and shot him through the 
 head. I heard this from another Indian that was 
 with the murderin' fellow that was shot. The 
 
190 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 Wild Man did nothing to the other. He let him 
 escape. 
 
 " Of course the relations of the man who was 
 killed were up immediately, and twenty of them 
 set out to murder the Wild Man. They took 
 their horses, spears, and bows, with them, and lay 
 in wait at a place where he was often seen passing. 
 Sure enough up he came, on horseback, at a slow 
 walk, looking as careless and easy as if no blood 
 of a redskin rested on his hand. 
 
 "It chanced the day before that day that we 
 had run out of fresh meat, so Mr. Macgregor, our 
 commandant here, ordered me to take three of 
 the men, and go out after the buffaloes. Away 
 we went, looking sharp out, however, for some of 
 the Indians had been treated by Macgregor so 
 brutally, I am sorry to say, that we knew our 
 scalps were not safe. Next morning I happened 
 to pass close by the place where the Indians lay 
 in ambush, and we came to the top of a precipice 
 that overlooked the spot. We saw them before 
 they saw us, so we went quietly back into the 
 bush, tied our horses to trees, and lay on the 
 edge of the cliff to watch them. 
 
 " In about ten minutes after we saw the Wild 
 Man riding slowly forward. He was a strange 
 sight. It was the first time I had seen him, 
 although I had often heard of him before. 
 
 "Well, on he came, with his head bent and his 
 eyes fixed on the ground. A dense thicket hicl 
 
AN ACCOUNT OF THE WILD MAN. 191 
 
 his enemies from him, though not from us, we 
 being so high above them. The Wild Man was 
 armed with his long rifle slung at his back, a 
 hunting knife, and a small shield, such as the 
 Blackfoot Indians use to protect themselves from 
 arrows. The only unusual sort of weapon he 
 carried was a long sword. 
 
 " Not knowing at the time that the Indians 
 were waiting for him, of course I gave no alarm 
 to warn him of his danger. "When he came 
 within a hundred yards of the thicket, I saw him 
 push his arm a little farther into the handles of 
 the shield. It was but a slight action such as 
 one might perform to ease the arm by change of 
 position; but the redskins are quick-witted. 
 They knew that he suspected they were there, 
 so, giving one tremendous yell, they sent a cloud 
 of arrows at him, and sprang but upon the plain 
 at full gallop with their spears lowered. 
 
 "Instead of turning to fly from such an un- 
 equal combat, the Wild Man drew his sword and 
 rushed at them like a thunderbolt. His onset 
 was the most awful thing I ever saw in my life. 
 The plain seemed to shake under the tread of his 
 gigantic horse. His hair streamed wildly out 
 behind him, and as he was coming towards me I 
 could see that his teeth were set and his eyes 
 flashed like those of a tiger. The Indians were 
 appalled by the sight. The idea of one man 
 attacking twenty had never occurred to them. 
 
192 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 They drew up ; but it was too late to prevent a 
 shock. There was a yell from the savages, a 
 shout like the roar of a lion from the Wild Man, 
 and two horses and their riders lay on the plain. 
 I saw the long sword gleam for one moment, just 
 as the shock took place, and the head of a savage 
 rolled immediately after along the ground. 
 
 "The Indians, though overawed, were brave 
 men. They turned to pursue the flying horse- 
 man, but they needed not. The Wild Man was 
 not flying, he was only unable at first to check 
 the headlong pace of his charger. In a few 
 seconds he wheeled about and charged again. 
 The Indians, however, did not await the issue; 
 they turned and fled, and they have ever since 
 remained in the firm belief that the Wild Man is 
 a " great medicine " man, and that no one can 
 kill him. They say that neither arrows nor 
 bullets can pierce his skin, which is an inch 
 thick ; that fire and smoke come out of his mouth 
 and eyes, and that his horse is, like himself, in- 
 vulnerable. I must confess, however, that, with 
 the exception of his enormous size and his 
 ferocity, he is, from what I saw of him, much the 
 same as other men." 
 
 McLeod concluded his description of this sin- 
 gular being, to which his guests listened open eyed 
 and mouthed, and helped himself to a buffalo-steak. 
 
 "An 5 what did he when the Indians ran 
 away ! " inquired March Marston. 
 
AN ACCOUNT OF THE WILD MAN. 193 
 
 " Oh ! lie quietly pulled up his horse and let 
 them run. After they were gone, he continued 
 his journey, as slow and cool as if nothing had 
 happened. Few Indians attack him now, except 
 new bands from distant parts of the country, who 
 don't know him; but all who meddle with him 
 find, to their cost, that it would have been better 
 had they let him alone." 
 
 " Is he cruel ? Does he eat men and childers?" 
 inquired Bounce, commencing a fourth steak with 
 a degree of violent energy that suggested the pos- 
 sibility of his being himself able to do some 
 execution in the cannibal line, if necessary. 
 
 McLeod laughed. "Oh dear, no; he's not 
 cruel. Neither does he eat human flesh. In 
 fact, he has been known to do some kind acts 
 to poor starving Indians when they least expected 
 it. The real truth is, that he is only fierce when 
 he's meddled with. He never takes revenge, and 
 he has never been known to lift a scalp." 
 
 "But what like is he when he comes to trade 
 his furs at the fort here ? how does he speak, and 
 in what language ? " inquired Marston, who, 
 although delighted with the account given of the 
 strength and valour of the Wild Man of the West, 
 was by no means pleased to learn that he was not 
 an absolute giant, something like the giant 
 Despair of whom he had read in the " Pilgrim's 
 Progress." 
 
 "He's just like a trapper only he's a tre- 
 
194 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 mendous big one six feet six, if he's an inch, 
 and would make two of the biggest of the present 
 company round the shoulders. But he's very 
 silent, and won't let any one question him. The 
 long and the short of it is, that I believe he is a 
 madman luckily he's a well-disposed madman, 
 and I can vouch for it he is a crack hunter, though 
 he don't bring many furs to trade. I think he 
 spends most of his idle time in moping among 
 the caves of the mountains." 
 
 " Does any one know where he lives ? " asked 
 Bertram, who was gradually becoming interested 
 in this strange being. 
 
 " No. We have sometimes tried to track him, 
 but at a certain place we have invariably lost all 
 traces of him." 
 
 " But what is his face like, and how does he 
 dress ? " inquired March, eagerly ; " you have 
 not yet said anything about that." 
 
 McLeod was about to reply, when he was 
 interrupted by a loud shouting in the yard of the 
 fort. Leaping from their seats, the whole party 
 ran to the windows. 
 
 " I thought so," cried McLeod, seizing his cap 
 and hurrying out. "These are six of my men 
 who have been out after the buffalo, and I see 
 they have been successful." 
 
 The fort-gate had been swung open, and, just 
 as the guests issued from the reception-hall, six 
 hunters galloped into the square with all the reck- 
 
RETURN OF A HUNTING PARTY. 195 
 
 less noise and dash peculiar to that class of men. 
 Leaping from their foaming steeds, they were 
 quickly surrounded by their comrades, and by the 
 women and children of the place, who congratu- 
 lated them on their success in the chase, and plied 
 them with eager questions. 
 
 That they had indeed been successful, was 
 evident from the masses of fresh meat with 
 which the horses were laden. 
 
 " Well done, Davis," said McLeod, stepping up 
 to one of the men, who, from his age and intelli- 
 gence, had been put in command of the hunting 
 party. " You are back sooner than I anticipated, 
 Surely, your good genius sent the buffalo across 
 your path." 
 
 f ' We have bin in luck, sir," replied the hunter, 
 touching his cap. " We've killed more than we 
 could carry, an', what's worse, we've killed more 
 than we wanted." 
 
 " How so?" 
 
 "We've had a brush wi' the redskins, sir, an' 
 we had to kill one or two in self-defence." 
 
 McLeod's brow darkened. He clenched his 
 teeth, and the large veins swelled in his neck and 
 forehead. With a powerful effort he repressed 
 his anger, and said, 
 
 "Did I not warn you to avoid that if you 
 could ?" 
 
 " True, sir/' replied Davis, humbly ; " but we 
 o 2 
 
196 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 could not help it ; for, in the first heat of passion, 
 one o' them was shot, an' after that, of course, we 
 had to fight to save our own scalps." 
 
 "Who fired that first shot?" inquired McLeod, 
 sternly. 
 
 Davis made no reply, but all eyes were at once 
 turned upon a tall slouching man, with a forbid- 
 ding cast of countenance, who had hitherto kept 
 in the background. 
 
 " So, so, Larocque," said McLeod, stepping up 
 to the man, " you've been at your bloody work 
 again, you scoundrel. Hah ! you not only bring 
 the enmity of the whole Indian race down on 
 your own worthless head, and on the heads of 
 your innocent companions, but you have the 
 effrontery to bring the evidence of your guilt into 
 this fort along with you." 
 
 As McLeod spoke, he laid hold of a scalp which 
 still dropped fresh blood as it hung at the hunter's 
 saddle-bow. 
 
 "If I'm to answer to you for every scalp 
 I choose to lift in self-defence, the sooner 
 I quit you the better," answered Larocque, 
 sulkily. 
 
 " Was there any occasion to lift this scalp at 
 all?" demanded McLeod, as he seized the man 
 by the collar. 
 
 "Who talks of lifting scalps?" growled a loud 
 deep-toned voice. 
 
 All eyes were instantly turned on the speaker, 
 
MR. MACGREGOR. 197 
 
 and the crowd fell back to permit Mr. Macgregor, 
 the person in command of the Mountain Fort, to 
 approach the scene of action. 
 
 The man who now appeared on the scene was a 
 sad and a terrible sight to behold. He was one 
 of that wretched class of human beings who, 
 having run a long course of unbridled wickedness, 
 become total wrecks in body and mind long before 
 the prime of manhood has been passed. Mac- 
 gregor had been a confirmed drunkard for many 
 years. He had long lost all power of self-control, 
 and had now reached that last fearful stage when 
 occasional fits of delirium tremens rendered him 
 more like a wild beast than a man. Being a large 
 and powerful man, and naturally passionate, he 
 was at these times a terror to all who came near 
 him. He had been many years in charge of the 
 fur-trading establishment, and having on many 
 occasions maltreated the Indians, he was hated 
 by them most cordially. 
 
 One of his mad fits had been on him for some 
 days before the arrival of March Marston and his 
 friends. He had recovered sufficiently to be able 
 to stagger out of his room just at the time the 
 buffalo-hunters, as above described, entered the 
 square of the fort. As he strode forward, with 
 nothing on but his shirt and trousers, his eyes 
 bloodshot, his hair matted and dishevelled, and 
 his countenance haggard in the extreme, he was 
 the most pitiable, and, at the same time, most 
 
198 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 terrible specimen of human degradation that the 
 mind of man could conceive of. 
 
 "What now; who has been lifting scalps?" 
 he growled between his set teeth, striding up to 
 Larocque, and glaring in his face, with his blood- 
 shot eyes, like a tiger. 
 
 McLeod held up the bloody scalp. 
 
 "Who did it?" roared Macgregor. 
 
 " I did," said Larocque, with an attempt at a 
 defiant air. 
 
 The words had barely passed his lips when he 
 received a blow between the eyes that felled him 
 to the earth. He attempted to rise, but, with a 
 yell that sounded more like the war-cry of a 
 savage than the wrathful shout of a civilized man, 
 Macgregor knocked him down again, and, spring- 
 ing at his throat, began to strangle him. 
 
 Up to this point, McLeod refrained from inter- 
 fering, for he was not sorry to see the murderer 
 receive such severe punishment; but, having no 
 desire to witness a second murder, he now seized 
 his master, and, with the assistance of two of the 
 men, succeeded in tearing him off from Larocque, 
 and in conveying him, as respectfully as possible 
 in the circumstances, to his private chamber. 
 
MCLEOD AND BERTRAM. 199 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 An Argument on Argumentation also on Religion Bounce 
 " feelosophical " again A Race cut short by a Bullet 
 Flight and Pursuit of the Redskins. 
 
 WHEN McLeod returned to the square, he found 
 that the trappers had adjourned with the men of 
 the establishment to enjoy a social pipe together, 
 and that Theodore Bertram was taking a solitary, 
 meditative promenade in front of the gate of the 
 fort. 
 
 11 You seem in a pensive mood, Mr. Bertram," 
 said the fur-trader on coming up, " will you not 
 try the soothing effects of a pipe ? Our tobacco 
 is good ; I can recommend it" 
 
 He offered a plug of tobacco to the artist as he 
 spoke. 
 
 ' ' Thank you, I do not smoke," said Bertram, 
 declining the proffered luxury. "Tobacco may 
 be good though I know it not from experience. 
 Yet, methinks, the man is wiser who does not 
 create an unnatural taste, than he who does so 
 for the purpose of gratifying it." 
 
 " Ah ! you are a philosopher." 
 
 "If judging of things and questions simply on 
 their own merit, and with the single object of 
 
200 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 ascertaining what is truth in regard to them, con- 
 stitutes a philosopher, I am." 
 
 " Don't you find that men who philosophize in 
 that way are usually deemed an obstinate genera- 
 tion by their fellow-men?" inquired the trader, 
 smiling as he puffed a voluminous cloud from 
 his lips. 
 
 " I do," replied Bertram. 
 
 "And don't you think the charge is just?" 
 continued the other, in a jocular tone. 
 
 " I do not," replied the artist. " I think those 
 who call them obstinate are often much more 
 truly deserving of the epithet. Philosophers, in 
 the popular sense of the word, are men who not 
 only acquire knowledge and make themselves ac- 
 quainted with the opinions of others, but who 
 make independent use of acquired knowledge, and 
 thus originate new ideas and frequently arrive at 
 new conclusions. They thus often come to differ 
 from the rest of mankind on many points, and, 
 having good reasons for this difference of opinion, 
 they are ever ready to explain and expound their 
 opinions and to prove their correctness, or to 
 receive proof of their incorrectness, if that can 
 be given hence they are called argumentative. 
 Being unwilling to give up what appears to them 
 to be truth, unless it can be shown to be false- 
 hood, their opinions are not easily overturned 
 hence they are called obstinate. Thinking out a 
 subject in a calm, dispassionate, logical mariner, 
 
BOUNCE, BERTRAM, AND MCLEOD ARGUE. 201 
 
 from its first proposition to its legitimate conclu- 
 sion, is laborious to all. A very large class of 
 men and women have no patience for such a 
 process of investigation hence argumentation, 
 that most noble of all mental exercises, is deemed 
 a nuisance. Certainly argumentation with un- 
 philosophical persons is a nuisance ; but I know 
 of few earthly enjoyments more gratifying than 
 an argument with a true philosopher." 
 
 " That's wot I says, so I do, out-an'-out," ob- 
 served Bounce, who had come up unperceived, 
 and had overheard the greater part of the above 
 remarks. " Jist wot I thinks myself, Mr. Ber- 
 tram, only I couldn't 'xactly put it in the same 
 way, d'ye see. That's wot I calls out-an'-out 
 feelosophy." 
 
 " Glad to hear you're such a wise fellow/' said 
 McLeod, patronizingly. " So you agree of course 
 with Mr. Bertram in condemning the use of the 
 pipe." 
 
 "Condemn the pipe?" said Bounce, pulling 
 out his own special favourite and beginning to fill 
 it, " wot, condemn smokin' ? No, by no means 
 wotsomdiver. That's quite another keewestion, 
 wot we haint bin a disputin' about. I only heered 
 Mr. Bertram a-talkin* about obst'nitness an' arge- 
 mentation." 
 
 " Well, in regard to that/' said Bertram, " I 
 firmly believe that men and women are all alike 
 equally obstinate." 
 
202 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 "Ha!" ejaculated Bounce, with that tone of 
 mingled uncertainty and profound consideration 
 which indicates an unwillingness to commit one- 
 self in reference to a new and startling proposi- 
 tion. 
 
 "On what grounds do you think so?" asked 
 McLeod. 
 
 " Why on the simple ground that a man cannot 
 change any opinion until he is convinced that it is 
 wrong, and that he inevitably must, and actually 
 does, change his opinion on the instant that he is 
 so convinced; and that in virtue, not of his will, 
 but of the constitution of his mind. Some men's 
 minds are of such a nature they take such a 
 limited and weak grasp of things that they can- 
 not be easily convinced. Others are so powerful 
 that they readily seize upon truth when it is pre- 
 sented to them ; but in either case, the instant 
 the point of conviction is reached the mind is 
 changed. Pride may indeed prevent the admis- 
 sion of this change, but it takes place, as I have 
 said, inevitably/' 
 
 At this Bounce opened his eyes to their utmost 
 possible width and said solemnly, " Wot ! do ye 
 mean for to tell me, then, that their ain't no sich 
 thing as obstinacy?" He accompanied this ques- 
 tion with a shake of the head that implied that if 
 Bertram were to argue till doomsday he would 
 never convince him (Bounce) of that. 
 
 "By no means," returned the artist, smiling, 
 
THE ARGUMENT INTERRUPTED. 203 
 
 " there is plenty of it, but obstinacy does not 
 consist in the simple act of holding one's opinion 
 firmly." 
 
 " Wot does it consist of, then?" 
 
 " In this : in holding firmly to opinions that 
 have been taken hastily up, without the grounds 
 on which they are founded having been duly 
 weighed ; and in refusing to consider these 
 grounds in a philosophical (which means a ra- 
 tional) way, because the process would prove 
 tiresome. The man who has comfortably settled 
 all his opinions in this way, very much resembles 
 that ' fool' of whom it is written that he ' is wiser 
 in his own conceit than seven men who can render 
 a reason. 3 " 
 
 " Well, but, to come back to the starting-point," 
 said McLeod, " many wise men smoke/' 
 
 "If you say that in the way of argument, I 
 meet it with the counter proposition, that many 
 wise men don't smoke." 
 
 " Hah ! " ejaculated Bounce, but whether 
 Bounce's ejaculation was one of approval or 
 disapproval we cannot tell. Neither can we tell 
 what conclusion these philosophers came to in 
 regard to smoking, because, just then, two horse- 
 men were seen approaching the fort at full speed. 
 
 Seeing that they were alone, McLeod took no 
 precautions to prevent surprise. He knew well 
 enough that Indians frequently approach in this 
 manner, so waited in front of the gate, coolly 
 
204 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 smoking his pipe, until the savages were within 
 a few yards of him. It seemed as if they pur- 
 posed running him down, but just as they came 
 to within a couple of bounds of him, they drew 
 up so violently as to throw their foaming steeds 
 on their haunches. 
 
 Leaping to the ground, the Indians who were 
 a couple of strong, fine-looking savages, dressed 
 in leathern costume, with the usual ornaments of 
 bead and quill work, tags, and scalp-locks came 
 forward and spoke a few words to McLeod in the 
 Cree language, and immediately after, delivering 
 their horses to the care of one of the men of the 
 establishment, accompanied him to the store. 
 
 In less than half an hour they returned to the 
 gate, when the Indians remounted, and, starting 
 away at their favourite pace full gallop were 
 soon out of sight. 
 
 "Them fellows seem to be in a hurry," re- 
 marked Bounce, as they disappeared. 
 
 "Ay, they're after mischief too/' replied 
 McLeod, in a sad tone of voice. "They are 
 two Cree chiefs who have come here for a supply 
 of ammunition to hunt the buffalo, but I know 
 they mean to hunt different game, for I heard 
 them talking to each other about a war party of 
 Blood Indians being in this part of the country. 
 Depend upon it scalps will be taken ere long. 
 'Tis a sad, sad state of things. Blood, blood, 
 blood seems to be the universal cry here, and, 
 
AN ARGUMENT ON RELIGION. 205 
 
 now that we've had so many quarrels with the 
 redskins', I fear that the day is not far distant 
 when blood will flow even in the Mountain Fort. 
 I see no prospect of a better state of things, for 
 savage nature cannot be changed. It seems a 
 hopeless case." 
 
 There was a touch of pathos in the tone in 
 which this was said that was very different from 
 McLeod's usual bold and reckless manner. It 
 was evident that his natural disposition was kind, 
 hearty, and peaceable ; but that the constant 
 feuds in which he was involved, both in the 
 fort and out of it, had soured his temper and 
 rendered him well-nigh desperate. 
 
 " You are wrong, sir, in saying that their case 
 is hopeless," said Bertram, earnestly. " There is 
 a remedy." 
 
 "I wish you could show it me," replied the 
 trader. 
 
 "Here it is," returned the artist, taking his 
 little Testament from the inside pocket of his 
 hunting-shirt. " The gospel is able to make all 
 men wise unto salvation." 
 
 McLeod shook his head, and said, "It won't 
 do here. To be plain with you, sir, I don't be- 
 lieve the gospel's of any use in these wild regions, 
 where murder seems to be as natural to man, 
 woman, and child as food." 
 
 "But, sir," rejoined Bertram, "you forget that 
 our Saviour himself says that he came not to 
 
206 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 call the righteous but sinners to repentance. In 
 this volume we are told that the blood of Christ 
 cleanseth us from all sin ; and, not only have we 
 his assurance that none who come unto him shall 
 be cast out, but we have examples in all parts of 
 the known world of men and women who were 
 once steeped to the lips in every species of gross 
 iniquity having been turned to the service of God 
 through faith in Christ, and that by the power of 
 the Holy Spirit, who, in this Word of God, is 
 promised freely to them that simply ask." 
 
 "It may be so," returned McLeod; "I have 
 not studied these things much. I don't profess 
 to be a very religious man, and I cannot pretend 
 to know much of what the gospel has done else- 
 where; but I feel quite sure that it cannot do 
 much here." 
 
 " Then you do not believe the Bible, which 
 says distinctly that this ' gospel is the power of 
 God unto salvation to every one that believeth/" 
 
 "Ay," but these wretched Indians won't 
 believe," objected the trader. 
 
 " True," answered Bertram ; " they have not 
 faith by nature, and they won't because they can't 
 believe ; but faith is the gift of God, and it is to 
 be had for the asking." 
 
 "To that I answer that they'll never ask." 
 
 " How do you know ? Did you ever give them 
 a trial ? Did you ever preach the gospel to them ? " 
 
 "No, I never did that." 
 
MACGREGOR GREETS THE TRAPPERS. 207 
 
 " Then you cannot tell how they would treat it. 
 Your remarks are mere assertions of opinion not 
 arguments. You know the wickedness of the 
 Indians, and can, therefore, speak authoritatively 
 on that point ; but you know not (according to 
 your own admission) the power of the gospel; 
 therefore you are not in a position to speak on 
 that point." 
 
 McLeod was about to reply when he was in- 
 terrupted by the approach of Mr. Macgregor, who 
 had now recovered somewhat from the effects of 
 his violent fit of passion. Having observed during 
 the melee that strangers had arrived at his fort, 
 he had washed and converted himself into a more 
 presentable personage, and now came forward to 
 the group of trappers, all of whom had assembled 
 at the gate. Addressing them in a tone of affable 
 hospitality he said, 
 
 " Good day, friends ; Fm glad to see you at the 
 Mountain Fort. That blackguard Larocque some- 
 what ruffled my temper. He's been the cause of 
 much mischief here, I assure you. Do you intend 
 to trap in these parts ? " 
 
 The latter part of this speech was addressed to 
 Eedhand, who replied, 
 
 " We do mean to try our luck in these parts, 
 but we han't yet made up our minds exactly 
 where to go. Mayhap you'll give us the benefit 
 of your advice." 
 
 While he was speaking the fur-trader glanced 
 
208 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 with an earnest yet half stupid stare at the faces 
 of the trappers, as if he wished to impress their 
 features on his memory. 
 
 " Advice/' he replied ; " you're welcome to all 
 the advice Fve got to give ye ; and it's this go 
 home ; go to where you belong to, sell your traps 
 and rifles and take to the plough, the hatchet, the 
 forehammer to anything you like, so long as it 
 
 keeps you out of this " Macgregor paused a 
 
 moment as if he were about to utter an oath, 
 then dropped his voice and said, " This wretched 
 Indian country." 
 
 "I guess, then, that we won't take yer advice, 
 old man," said Big Waller, with a laugh. 
 
 " ' Old man ? ' " echoed Macgregor with a 
 start. 
 
 "Wall, if ye beant old, ye ain't exactly a 
 chicken." 
 
 "You're a plain-spoken man," replied the 
 trader, biting his lips. " I always wos," retorted 
 Waller. 
 
 Macgregor frowned for a moment, then he 
 broke into a forced laugh and said, 
 
 "Well, friends, you'll please yourselves, of 
 course ; most people do ; and if you are so de- 
 termined to stick to the wilderness I would advise 
 some of you to stop here. There's plenty of fun 
 and fighting, if you're fond of that. What say 
 you now, lad," turning to March, "to remain 
 with us here at the Mountain Fort ? I've ta'en 
 
A RACE. 209 
 
 a sort of fancy to your face. We want young 
 bloods here. Fll give you a good wage and plenty 
 to do." 
 
 " Thanks ; you are kind," replied March, 
 smiling, "but I love freedom too well to part 
 with it yet awhile." 
 
 "Mais, monsieur," cried Gibault, pushing for- 
 ward, pulling off his cap, and making alow bow; 
 "if you vants yonger blod, an' also' ver' goot 
 blod, here am von ! " 
 
 The trader laughed, and was about to reply, 
 when a sudden burst of laughter and the sound 
 of noisy voices in the yard interrupted him. Pre- 
 sently two of the men belonging to the establish- 
 ment cantered out of the square, followed by 
 all the men, women, and children of the place, 
 amounting probably to between twenty and thirty 
 souls. " A race ! a race ! " shouted the foremost. 
 
 " Hallo ! Dupont, what's to do ? " inquired 
 McLeod, as the two horsemen came up. 
 
 " Please, monsieur, Lincoln have bet me von 
 gun dat hims horse go more queek dan mine, 
 so we try." 
 
 "Yes, so we shall, I guess," added the man 
 named Lincoln, whose speech told that he was a 
 Yankee. 
 
 "Go it, stranger; I calc'late you'll do him 
 slick," cried Waller, patronizingly, for his heart 
 warmed towards his countryman. 
 
 "Ah! non. Go home; put your horse to 
 p 
 
210 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 bed." cried Gibault, glancing at the Yankee's 
 steed in contempt. " Dis is de von as vill do it 
 more slicker by far." 
 
 " Well, well ; clear the course ; we shall soon 
 see," cried McLeod. " Now then here's the 
 word, one, two away ! " 
 
 At the last word the riders' whips cracked, and 
 the horses sprang forward at a furious gallop. 
 Both of them were good spirited animals, and 
 during the first part of the race it could not be 
 said that either had the advantage. They ran 
 neck and neck together. 
 
 The race-course at the Mountain Fort was a 
 beautiful stretch of level turf, which extended a 
 considerable distance in front of the gates, It 
 crossed a clear open country towards the forest, 
 where it terminated, and, sweeping round in an 
 abrupt curve, formed, as it were, a loop ; so that 
 competitors, after passing over the course, swept 
 round the loop, and, re-entering the original 
 course again, came back towards the fort, where 
 a long pole formed the winning-post. 
 
 Dupont and Lincoln kept together, as we have 
 said, for some time after starting, but before they 
 had cleared the first half of the course the former 
 was considerably in advance of the latter, much 
 to the delight of most of the excited spectators, 
 with whom he was a favourite. On gaining the 
 loop above referred to, and making the graceful 
 sweep round it, which brought the foremost rider 
 
A MURDER AND ITS PUNISHMENT. 211 
 
 into full side view, the distance between them 
 became more apparent, and a cheer arose from 
 the people near the fort-gate. 
 
 At that moment a puff of smoke issued from 
 the bushes. Dupont tossed his arms in the air, 
 uttered a sharp cry, and fell headlong to the 
 ground. At the same instant a band of Indians 
 sprang from the underwood, with an exulting 
 yell. Lincoln succeeded in checking and turning 
 his horse before they caught his bridle, but an 
 arrow pierced his shoulder ere he had galloped 
 out of reach of his enemies. 
 
 The instant Dupont fell, a savage leaped upon 
 him, and plunged his knife into his heart. Then, 
 passing the sharp weapon quickly round his head 
 with his right hand, with his left he tore the 
 scalp off, and, leaping up, shook the bloody 
 trophy defiantly at the horrified spectators. 
 
 All this was accomplished so quickly that the 
 horror-stricken people of the Mountain Fort had 
 not time to move a finger to save their comrade. 
 But, as the savage raised the scalp of poor 
 Dupont above his head, Kedhand's rifle flew to 
 his shoulder, and in another moment the Indian 
 fell to the earth beside his victim. Seeing this, 
 the other Indians darted into the forest. 
 
 Then a fearful imprecation burst from the lips 
 of Macgregor, as, with a face convulsed with 
 passion, he rushed into the fort, shouting " To 
 p 2 
 
212 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 horse ! to horse,, men ! and see that your horns 
 and pouches are full of powder and ball ! " 
 
 The commotion and hubbub that now took 
 place baffle all description. The men shouted and 
 raved as they ran hither and thither, arming 
 themselves and saddling their horses ; while the 
 shrieks of poor Duporit's widow mingled with 
 those of the other women and the cries of the 
 terrified children. 
 
 " Half a dozen of you must keep the fort/ 5 said 
 McLeod, when they were all assembled; "the 
 others will be sufficient to punish these fiends. 
 You'll help us, I suppose ? " 
 
 This latter question was addressed to Redhand, 
 who, with his comrades, stood armed, and ready 
 to mount. 
 
 " Ready, sir/' answered the trapper, promptly. 
 
 McLeod looked round with a gleam of satis- 
 faction on the stalwart forms of his guests, as they 
 stood each at his horse's head examining the state 
 of his weapons, or securing more firmly some 
 portion of his costume. 
 
 " Mount ! mount ! " shouted Macgregor, gal- 
 loping at that moment through the gateway, and 
 dashing away in the direction of the forest. 
 
 " Stay! my sketch-book ! " cried Bertram, in 
 an agony, at the same time dropping his reins 
 and his gun, and darting back towards the hall of 
 the fort. 
 
 " Git on, lads \ I'll look arter him/' said 
 
BERTRAM JOINS IN THE PURSUIT. 213 
 
 Bounce, with a grin, catching up the bridle of the 
 artist's horse. 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation, the remainder 
 of the party turned, and galloped after Macgregor, 
 who, with the most of his own men, had already 
 well-nigh gained the edge of the forest. 
 
 In a few seconds Bertram rushed wildly out of 
 the fort, with the sketch-book in one hand and 
 the two blunderbuss-pistols in the other. In leap- 
 ing on his horse, he dropped the latter; but 
 Bounce picked them up, and stuck them hastily 
 into his own belt. 
 
 " Now put that book into its own pouch, or 
 ye'll be fit for nothing" said Bounce, almost 
 sternly. 
 
 Bertram obeyed, and grasped the rifle which 
 his friend placed in his hand. Then Bounce 
 vaulted into his saddle, and, ere those who were 
 left behind had drawn the bolts and let down the 
 ponderous bars of the gate of the Mountain Fort, 
 the two horsemen were flying at full speed over 
 the plain in the track of the avengers of blood 
 who had gone before them. 
 
214 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The Pursuit Conscientious Scruples of the Artist Stra- 
 tegic Movements Surprised in the Wild-Cat Pass 
 March shows Coolness and Pluck in the Hour of 
 Danger A Terrific Onslaught by a wonderful Warrior 
 The Battle Hard Knocks and Mysterious Differences 
 of Opinion. 
 
 CROSSING the open ground in front of the Moun- 
 tain Fort, Bounce and Bertram entered the wood 
 beyond, and traversed it with comparative ease, 
 by means of a bridle-path which had been cut 
 there by the fur-traders. A few minutes' gallop 
 brought them to the other side of the wood, which 
 was one of those narrow strips or clumps of forest 
 which grow, more or less thickly, on the skirts of 
 the Rocky Mountains, forming that fine pictu- 
 resque region where the prairie and the forest 
 meet and seem to contend for the mastery. 
 
 The plain beyond this belt of wood was open 
 and level at least, sufficiently so to enable the 
 two horsemen to see for a considerable distance 
 around them. Here, in the far distance they 
 descried their companions sweeping over the 
 turf at their utmost speed, and making towards a 
 low hill or ridge that intercepted the view of the 
 more distant country. 
 
 "They'll have to draw in a bit/' said Bounce, 
 
215 
 
 turning to his comrade. " Horses no more nor 
 men can't go helter-skelter up a hill without 
 takin' breath ; so rouse up your beast, Mr. Ber- 
 tram, an' we'll overtake ; em afore they gits to the 
 tother side." 
 
 Bertram obeyed his friend's command, but 
 made no rejoinder, his thoughts being too deeply 
 engaged at that moment in a controversy with his 
 conscience as to the propriety of the business he 
 had then in hand. 
 
 The young artist had a deep veneration for 
 abstract truth truth pure and simple, not only 
 in reference to morals, but to all things terrestrial 
 and celestial ; and he was deeply impressed with 
 the belief, that what was right was right, and 
 what was wrong was wrong, and could not, 
 by any possibility, be otherwise. He felt, also, 
 that the man who recognized truth, and acted 
 upon it, must go right, and he who saw and did 
 otherwise must go wrong ! 
 
 Holding this simple creed very tenaciously, and, 
 as we think, very properly, Bertram nevertheless 
 found that his attempts to act up to it frequently 
 involved him in a maze of perplexities. 
 
 On the present occasion, as he and Bounce 
 thundered over the green turf of the flower- 
 ing plains, scattering the terrified grasshoppers 
 right and left, and causing the beautifully-striped 
 ground-squirrels to plunge with astonishing pre- 
 cipitancy into their holes, he argued with himself, 
 
216 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 that the mere fact of a murderous deed having 
 been done was not a sufficient reason, perhaps, to 
 justify his sallying forth with a reckless band of 
 desperate fur-traders, bent on indiscriminate 
 revenge. It was quite true, in his opinion, that 
 a murderer should be punished with death, and 
 that the pursuit and capture of a murderer was 
 not only a legitimate act in itself, but, in the 
 circumstances, a bounden duty on his part. Yet 
 it was equally true that most of the men with 
 whom he was associated were thirsty for ven- 
 geance, and from past experience he knew full 
 well that there would be no attempt to find out the 
 murderer, but a simple and general massacre of 
 all the Indians whom they could overtake. 
 
 Then it suddenly occurred to him that the 
 murderer had already been shot by Redhand, so 
 that his mission was one of simple revenge ; but, 
 a moment after, it flashed across his troubled 
 mind that Lincoln had been left in the fort 
 wounded might possibly be dead by that time ; 
 so that there were probably among the flying 
 savages other murderers to be dealt with. This 
 idea was strengthened by another thought, 
 namely, that the savage who stabbed and scalped 
 Dupont might not have been the savage who shot 
 him. The complication and aggregate of impro- 
 bability amounted, in Bertram's mind, so nearly 
 to a certainty, that he dismissed the digressive 
 question as to whether there might or might not 
 
217 
 
 be a murderer among the Indians, and returned 
 to the original proposition, as to whether it was 
 right in him to take part in a pursuit of ven- 
 geance that would very likely terminate mur- 
 derously. But before he could come to any 
 satisfactory conclusion on that point he and 
 Bounce found themselves suddenly in the midst 
 of the cavalcade, which had halted on the summit 
 of the ridge, in order to allow them to come up. 
 
 "Here we are, lads," cried Macgregor, his 
 flushed face still blazing with wrath, which he 
 made no effort to subdue, and his eyes red with 
 prolonged debauchery, flashing like the eyes of a 
 tiger, "here we are, too late to cut off the 
 retreat o' these detestable reptiles from the woods, 
 but not too late to circumvent them." 
 
 The fur-trader spoke rapidly, almost breath- 
 lessly, and pointed to the band of Indians they 
 were in pursuit of, who, observing that their pur- 
 suers had halted, also drew rein on the edge of 
 a belt of thick forest that extended for miles into 
 the mountains. They appeared to wait, in order 
 to ascertain what their enemies meant to do. 
 
 " The villains," continued Macgregor, " think 
 we've given up pursuit as hopeless, but they're 
 mistaken they're mistaken, as they'll find to 
 their cost. Now, mark me, men ; we shall turn 
 back as if we had really given in ; but the moment 
 we get down into the hollow, out of sight, we'll 
 go as hard as we can bolt up that valley there, 
 
218 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 and round by the place we call the Wild-cat's 
 Pass. It's a difficult pass, but who cares for 
 that ? Once through it we can get by a short 
 cut to the other side of that wood, and meet the 
 Redskins right in the teeth. They're Blackfoot 
 Indians,, I know by their dress ; and, as they don't 
 belong to this part o' the country, they can't be 
 aware of the pass. But some of us must go back 
 a good way towards the fort, so as to deceive the 
 blackguards, who'll be sure to get on the first hill 
 they can to see where we've gone to. Now 
 away ! Stay," he added, in a less commanding 
 tone, " I don't know that my guests are willing 
 to go with us through thick an' thin in this 
 fashion. I've no desire to have unwilling 
 warriors." 
 
 " Had we not been willing" replied Eedhand, 
 drily, " we wouldn't have come even thus far." 
 
 " Very good," rejoined Macgregor, with a grim 
 smile; "then, perhaps, since you are so good 
 as to go along with us, you'll make for the head 
 of that valley, and, when you come to the Wild- 
 cat Pass I've spoken of, you'll wait there till the 
 rest of us, who are to sham going back to the 
 fort, come up with ye ; then we'll go through the 
 pass together, and polish off the redskins." 
 
 To this plan Redhand assented ; so he and his 
 comrades prepared to take the way to the pass, 
 while the men of the fort turned homewards. A 
 triumphant shout from the Indians showed that 
 
A STRATEGIC MOVEMENT. 219 
 
 they imagined the pursuit was given up ; but 
 Macgregor knew their cunning too well to fall into 
 the mistake of at once concluding that they were 
 thoroughly deceived. He knew that they would 
 send out scouts to dog them, and felt, that if his 
 plan was to succeed, he must put it into execution 
 promptly. 
 
 "I've scarce had time to ask your names or 
 where you've come from/' he said, on parting from 
 the trappers ; " but there'll be plenty of time 
 for that when we meet again. Keep close in the 
 bottom, and ride fast, till the shadow of yonder 
 crag conceals you from view. If the Indians get 
 sight of you, they'll smell the dodge at once and 
 escape us. Perhaps, young man, you'd like to 
 come with my party ? " 
 
 The latter part of this speech was made rather 
 abruptly to March Marston, who received it with 
 some surprise, and with a distinct refusal. 
 
 " I'll stick by my comrades," said he, " till I 
 see good reason " 
 
 " Well, well, boy please yourself ! " muttered 
 the trader angrily, as he broke away at full speed, 
 followed by his men. 
 
 Our trappers instantly turned their horses' 
 heads towards the mountains, and made for the 
 Wild-cat Pass. 
 
 Macgregor's estimate of the cunning of the 
 Indians was but too correct. The instant the far- 
 traders disappeared behind the ridge, as if on their 
 
220 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 return homewards, several of their fastest riders 
 were despatched to the nearest hill, to watch the 
 movements of the enemy. They ascended one 
 which commanded a wide view of the surrounding 
 country, and thence beheld the fur- traders pro- 
 ceeding swiftly back in the direction of the fort. 
 Unfortunately, they also perceived the bottle- 
 brush of Bertram's steed, as it disappeared behind 
 the crag which already concealed the rest of his 
 comrades from view. One instant later, and the 
 Indians would have failed to make this discovery, 
 for a deep impassable gorge lay between them and 
 the ravine which conducted to the pass. It was 
 but the barest possible glimpse they got of that 
 shabby tail ; but it told a tale which they per- 
 fectly understood, for they flew back in the utmost 
 haste to warn their comrades, who, knowing the 
 smallness of the party thus sent against them, 
 from the largeness of the party that had shammed 
 returning to the fort, resolved upon executing a 
 counter movement. 
 
 They had a shrewd suspicion, from the nature 
 of the country, that the intention of the whites 
 was to get through a pass of some sort and inter- 
 cept them, and, concluding that this pass must lie 
 at the head of the valley up which the bottle- 
 brush had vanished, they resolved to proceed to 
 the same spot through the gorge that separated 
 the hill from the crag or rocky ridge before 
 referred to. 
 
AN UNSEEN WATCHER. 
 
 Promptitude they knew to be everything, so 
 they swept up the gorge like a whirlwind. Thus 
 both parties drew nearer to the chaotic opening 
 styled the Wild-cat Pass, the trappers, all igno- 
 rant of what awaited them there ; the savages, 
 bent on giving their enemies an unpleasant sur- 
 prise. 
 
 But, unknown to either, there was a pair of 
 eyes high on a rock above the Wild-cat Pass, that 
 overlooked the two valleys or ravines, and gazed 
 with considerable interest and curiosity on the 
 two advancing parties. Those eyes belonged to a 
 solitary horseman, who stood on the edge of the 
 wild precipice that overhung the pass. The 
 hunter, for such his leathern dress bespoke him, 
 stood beside his horse, his right arm over its 
 arched neck, and his right hand patting its sleek 
 shoulder. From the position which he occupied 
 he could see without being seen. His magnifi- 
 cent steed seemed to be aware that danger was at 
 hand, for it stood like a statue, absolutely motion- 
 less, with the exception of its fine fiery eyes. 
 Whatever this solitary hunter's thoughts regard- 
 ing the two approaching parties might be, it was 
 evident that he meant to remain an invisible 
 spectator of their doings ; for he stood in the 
 same attitude of statue-like attention until they 
 reached the heads of the two ravines, where they 
 were separated from each other only by the pass. 
 Here, on the one side, the Indians, about forty in 
 
222 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 number, lay in ambush among the rocks, prepared 
 to surprise and attack the trappers when they 
 should pass. On the other side the trappers 
 halted, and, dismounting, allowed their horses to 
 graze while they awaited the arrival of Mac- 
 gregor and his party. 
 
 "They won't be long o' comin'," remarked 
 Redhand, seating himself on a stone and proceed- 
 ing to strike a light. " That fellow, Macgregor, 
 an't the man to waste time when he's out after 
 the redskins. I only hope he won't waste life 
 when he gets up to them." 
 
 " So do I," said Bounce, seating himself beside 
 Hedhand and carefully cutting a small piece of 
 tobacco into shreds by means of a scalping-knife. 
 " A sartin amount o' punishment is needful, d'ye 
 see, to keep 'em down ; but I don't like slaugh- 
 tering human' bein's onnecessary like." 
 
 " I'd skiver 'em all, I guess every one," ob- 
 served Big Waller angrily. " They're a murderin', 
 thievin' set o' varmints, as don't desarve to live 
 nohow ! " 
 
 " Bah ! " exclaimed Gibault in disgust ; " you 
 is most awferfully onfeelosophicule, as Bounce do 
 say. If dey not fit for live, for fat vas dey 
 made ? You vicked man ! " 
 
 Big Waller deigned no reply. 
 
 " I'm off to look at the pass," cried March 
 Marston, vaulting suddenly into the saddle. 
 " Come, Bertram ; you'll go with me, won'* 
 
THE WILD-CAT PASS. 223 
 
 you, and see if we can find some wild cats in 
 it?" 
 
 The artist, who had not dismounted, merely re- 
 plied by a nod and a smile, and the two reckless 
 youths galloped away, heedless of Bounce's warn- 
 ing not to go too far, for fear they should find 
 something worse than wild cats there. 
 
 The Wild-cat Pass, through which they were 
 speedily picking their steps, in order to get a 
 view of the country beyond, was not inappro- 
 priately named ; for it seemed, at the first glance 
 of those who entered it, as if no creature less 
 savagely reckless than a wild cat could, by any 
 possibility, scramble through it without the aid 
 of wings. 
 
 The greater part of it was the ancient bed of 
 a mountain torrent, whose gushing waters had, 
 owing to some antediluvian convulsion of nature, 
 been diverted into another channel. The whole 
 scene was an absolute chaos of rocks which had 
 fallen into the torrent's bed from the precipice 
 that hemmed it in on the west, and these rocky 
 masses lay heaped about in such a confused way 
 that it was extremely difficult to select a pathway 
 along which the horses could proceed without 
 running great risk of breaking their limbs. The 
 entire length of the pass could not have been 
 much more than a quarter of a mile, yet it took 
 March Marston and his companion full half an 
 hour to traverse it. 
 
224 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 When about half through the pass, March, who 
 led the way, drew up on a small rocky elevation, 
 from which he could survey the amphitheatre of 
 rugged and naked rocks in the midst of which he 
 stood. 
 
 "Upon my word, Bertram/* he said, gazing 
 round, " if Bunyan had ever been in the Rocky 
 Mountains, I think he would have chosen such a 
 spot as this for the castle o' Giant Despair." 
 
 " I know not," replied Bertram, with a deep 
 sigh, as he drew rein, " what Bunyan would have 
 done, but I know that Giant Despair has already 
 located himself here, for he has been trying to 
 take possession of my bosom for at least twenty 
 minutes. I never rode over such ground in my 
 life. However, it ill becomes pioneers to be over- 
 come by such a giant, so pray push on ; I feel 
 quite eager to see what sort of region lies beyond 
 this gloomy portal/* 
 
 March laughed and turned to continue tho 
 scramble ; Bertram removed his brigandish hat, 
 wiped his heated brows, replaced the hat firmly 
 thereon, and drove his heels violently against the 
 ribs of his horse, an act which induced that pa- 
 tient quadruped to toss its head and shake its 
 bottle-brush ere it condescended to move on. It 
 was quite evident that, although Bertram spoke in 
 a half jesting tone of Giant Despair, he was in 
 reality much delighted with the singularity of this 
 extemporized and interesting ramble. 
 
BERTRAM AND MARCH IN THE PASS. 225 
 
 " I say, Bertram, don't you like this sort o' 
 thing ? " inquired March, looking back at his 
 companion, on reaching a somewhat level part of 
 the pass. 
 
 "Like it? Ay, that do I. I love it, March. 
 There is a freedom, a species of wild romance about 
 it, that is more captivating than I can describe." 
 
 "You don't need to describe it," returned 
 March," I have it all described splendidly within 
 me. One don't want words when one's got 
 feelins. But I've often thought what a pity it is 
 that we can't describe things or places at all with 
 words. At least, / can't," he added modestly. 
 ""When I try to tell a fellow what I've seen, it 
 ain't o' no manner of use to try, for I don't get 
 hold of the right words at the right time, and so 
 don't give out the right meanin', and so the fellow 
 I'm speakin' to don't take up the right notion, 
 d'ye see ? It's a great pity that words are such 
 useless things." 
 
 " Why, that was spoken like Bounce himself," 
 said Bertram, smiling. 
 
 "Look out, or you'll go bounce into that hole, 
 if you don't have a care," cried March, turning 
 aside to avoid the danger referred to. They pro- 
 ceeded through the remainder of the pass in 
 silence, as the rugged nature of the ground re- 
 quired their undivided attention. 
 
 Had there been a sprite in that place, who 
 could have hopped invisibly to some elevated pin- 
 Q 
 
226 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 nacle, or have soared on gossamer wings into the 
 air, so as to take in a bird's eye view of the whole 
 scene, he would have noted that while March 
 Marston and the artist were toiling slowly through 
 the Wild-cat Pass, the solitary hunter before 
 referred to regarded their proceedings with some 
 surprise, and that when he saw they were bent on 
 going quite through the pass, his expression 
 changed to a look of deep concern. 
 
 With slow and gentle hand this man backed 
 his quiet and docile horse deeper into the bush ; 
 and when he had got so deep into the shade of 
 the forest as to be perfectly safe from observa- 
 tion, he leaped on its back with a single bound, 
 and galloped swiftly away. 
 
 A few minutes after the occurrence of this 
 incident, March and his friend emerged from the 
 pass and trotted out upon a level plain whence 
 they obtained a fine view of the magnificent 
 country beyond. The pass from which they had 
 just issued seemed to be the entrance to the heart 
 of the Rocky Mountains. The plain, or rather 
 the plateau, on which they stood, was a level spot 
 covered with soft grass, free from bushes, and not 
 more than a hundred yards in extent. On three 
 sides it was encompassed by inaccessible preci- 
 pices and rocky ground, in the midst of which 
 the opening out of the pass was situated. On 
 the fourth side it was skirted by a dense thicket 
 of bushes that formed the entrance to a magni- 
 
A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 227 
 
 ficent forest which extended for several miles in 
 front of the spot. Beyond this forest the scene 
 was broken by hills and valleys, and little plains, 
 richly diversified with wood and water the for- 
 mer in dense masses, scattered groups and isolated 
 clusters ; the latter shining in the forms of 
 lakelet and stream, or glancing snow-white in 
 numberless cascades. Beyond all, the dark blue 
 giant masses of the Rocky Mountains towered up 
 and up, hill upon hill, pile upon pile, mass on 
 mass, till they terminated in distant peaks, so 
 little darker than the sky that they seemed 
 scarcely more solid than the clouds with which 
 they mingled and blended their everlasting 
 snows. 
 
 f " An't it beautiful ? " cried March, riding for- 
 ward with a bounding sensation of inexpressible 
 delight. 
 
 Bertram followed him, but did not answer. He 
 was too deeply absorbed in the simple act of in- 
 tently gazing and drinking in the scene to listen 
 or to reply. 
 
 At the precise moment in which March made 
 the above remark, his quick eye observed a spear- 
 head which one of the savages, hid among the 
 bushes there, had not taken sufficient pains to 
 conceal. 
 
 March Marston was a young hunter, and, as 
 yet, an inexperienced warrior; but from child- 
 hood he had been trained, as it were, in spirit, by 
 Q 2 
 
228 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 the anecdotes and tales of the many hunters who 
 had visited Pine Point settlement. His natural 
 powers of self-control were very great, but he had 
 to tax all these powers to the uttermost to main- 
 tain his look of animated delight in the scenery 
 unchanged, after making the above startling dis- 
 covery. But March did it ! His first severe trial 
 in the perils of backwood life had come without 
 warning or time for preparation ; and he passed 
 through the ordeal like a true hero. 
 
 That a spear-handle must necessarily support a 
 spear-head; that an Indian probably grasped the 
 former ; that, in the present position of affairs, 
 there were certainly more Indians than one in 
 ambush ; and that, in all probability, there were 
 at that moment two or three dozen arrows rest- 
 ing on their respective bows, and pointed towards 
 his and his comrade's hearts, ready to take flight 
 the instant they should come within sure and 
 deadly range, were ideas which did not follow 
 each other in rapid succession through his brain, 
 but darted upon the young hunter's quick per- 
 ceptions instantaneously, and caused his heart to 
 beat on his ribs like a sledge-hammer, and the 
 blood to fly violently to his face. 
 
 Luckily March's face was deeply browned, 
 and did not show the crimson tide. With a sud- 
 den, mighty effort he checked the natural look 
 and exclamation of surprise. That was the moment 
 of danger past. To continue his praise of the 
 
COOLNESS OF MARCH. 229 
 
 lovely scene in gay delighted tones was com- 
 paratively easy. 
 
 " Isn't it beautiful ? " he said, turning his face 
 full towards the ambushed savages, gazing over 
 their place of concealment with an unconscious 
 joyous air, and sweeping his hand towards the 
 mountains, as if to draw the attention of his com- 
 panion to them. March's only weapon at that 
 moment was the small hatchet he was wont to 
 carry in his girdle. This implement chanced to 
 be in his hand. Placing it carelessly in his belt, 
 as though nothing was farther from his mind 
 than the idea of requiring to use it at that time, 
 he cried, 
 
 " See, yonder is a mound from which we may 
 get a better view/' and trotted to the summit of 
 the spot alluded to. In doing so he placed him- 
 self still nearer to the Indians. This was a bold 
 stroke, though a dangerous one, meant to deceive 
 the enemy. After gazing a few seconds from this 
 spot, he wheeled round and walked his horse 
 quietly towards the entrance to the pass. Arrived 
 there, he turned, and pretending that he saw 
 something in the far distance, he shaded his eyes 
 with his hand and gazed for a short time intently, 
 then calling to Bertram, who still remained in his 
 original position all unconscious of his danger, 
 said : 
 
 "I say, come here; look at yonder splendid 
 lake, it's worth seeing, well worth seeing ; and 
 
230 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 if you don't see it with that curious light on it, 
 you'll not care to see it at all." 
 
 March did not dare, by energy of voice, to 
 force his friend's attention, therefore the first part 
 of this speech was unheeded ; but the reference 
 to a "curious light" had the desired effect. 
 Bertram turned, and rode to join his companion. 
 Getting Bertram into such a position that his 
 own person partially screened him from the 
 Indians, he made the following remarkable speech, 
 from beginning to end, in the gay tones of one 
 who discourses eloquently on the beauties of 
 nature ; pointing here and there as he rattled on. 
 
 " An't it beautiful ? eh ! I say, just look at it 
 now ! listen to me, Bertram attentively, but 
 gaze admiringly at the scene at the scene oh \ 
 man, do what I bid ye your life hangs on it. 
 Pretend to admire it we're in great danger 
 but " 
 
 "Eh! what! where?" exclaimed the artist in 
 a tone of intense excitement, at the same time 
 laying his hand on one of his pistols and gazing 
 anxiously all round him. 
 
 Alas ! poor Bertram. It needed not the acute 
 apprehension of a redskin to understand that you 
 had been told of present danger. Neither did it 
 require much acutencss on the part of March to 
 divine what was to follow. 
 
 Scarcely had the symptoms of alarm been ex- 
 hibited, when four arrows whizzed through the 
 
THE -ENCOUNTER. 231 
 
 air and passed close to the persons of the two 
 friends, who instantly turned and made a dash for 
 the entrance of the pass. At the same time the 
 savages uttered a yell and darted after them. 
 
 " We'll never be able to escape by the pass/' 
 exclaimed March, looking behind him hurriedly, 
 as they approached the rocky gorge, "and, I 
 declare, there's only four o' them on foot. Come, 
 Bertram, let's make a bold stroke for it. We'll 
 easy break through 'em." 
 
 He reined up so suddenly as almost to throw 
 the horse on its haunches, and, wheeling round, 
 darted towards the savages. Bertram followed, 
 almost mechanically. 
 
 The Indians offered no opposition, but at that 
 moment another yell rose from the bushes, and 
 about thirty mounted Indians, who had been con- 
 cealed behind a projecting cliff, sprang forward 
 and closed up the only place of escape with a 
 formidable array of spears. From their not using 
 their arrows it was evident that they wished to 
 capture the white men alive, for the purpose, no 
 doubt, of taking them home to their wigwams, 
 there to put them to death by slow torture with 
 the assistance of their squaws. 
 
 March Marston's spirit rose with the occasion. 
 He uttered a furious cry, flourished his hatchet 
 above his head, and dashed at full gal]op towards 
 the line. Seeing this, one of the Indians levelled 
 his spear and rode out to meet him. Ber- 
 
232 THE WILD MAX OF THE \VLST. 
 
 tram's nerves recovered at that moment. He 
 fired both pistols at the advancing savage, but 
 without effect. In despair he hurled one of them 
 violently at the head of the Indian. The missile 
 went true to the mark and felled him. On be- 
 holding this the whole body of savages rushed 
 upon the two white men. 
 
 One powerful Indian seized March by the 
 throat. Before either could use his weapon the 
 horses separated and both fell violently to the 
 ground. Bertram leaped off his horse and sprang 
 to the rescue, but he was instantly surrounded, 
 and for a few seconds defended himself with the 
 butt of his large cavalry pistol with an amount of 
 energy and activity that would have filled those 
 who knew him best with amazement. At that 
 moment there was a clatter of hoofs in the gorge, 
 and a roar or bellow was heard above the din of 
 the fight. All eyes were turned towards the pass, 
 and next moment a solitary horseman leaped over 
 the broken rocks and bounded over the turf 
 towards the combatants. 
 
 The aspect of this new comer was something 
 terrible to behold. Both he and his horse were 
 gigantic in size. The man was dressed in the cos- 
 tume of an Indian, but his hair and beard were 
 those of a white man. The mane and tail of his 
 huge horse were of enormous length, and as he 
 swept over the little plain, which seemed to 
 tremble beneath his heavy tread, the wind blew 
 
The Wild Man of the West. 
 
THE WILD MAN COPIES TO THE RESCUE. 233 
 
 out these and the tags and scalplocks of his coat 
 and leggings as well as his own beard and hair in 
 such a confused and commingled way as to make the 
 man and horse appear like one monstrous creature. 
 The Indiana turned to flee, but, seeing only one 
 enemy, they hesitated. In another moment the 
 wild horseman was upon them. He carried a 
 round shield on his left arm and a long double- 
 edged sword in his right hand. Two Indians 
 lowered their spears to receive him. The point of 
 one he turned aside with his shield, and the shock 
 of his heavy war-horse hurled horse and man 
 upon the plain. The other he cut the iron head 
 off with a sweep of his sword, and, with a con- 
 tinuation of the same cut, he cleft his opponent to 
 the chin. Turning rapidly, he bounded into the 
 very midst of the savages, uttering another of his 
 tremendous roars of indignation. The sudden- 
 ness of this act prevented the Indians from using 
 their bows and arrows effectively. Before they 
 could fit an arrow to the string two more of their 
 number lay in the agonies of death on the ground. 
 Several arrows were discharged, but the per- 
 turbation of those who discharged them, and their 
 close proximity to their mark, caused them to 
 shoot wide. Most of the shafts missed him. Two 
 quivered in his shield, and one pierced the sleeve 
 of his coat. Turning again to renew his rapid 
 attacks he observed one of the Indians probably 
 a chief leap to one side, and, turning round, fit 
 
234 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 an arrow with calm deliberation to his bow. The 
 furious horseman, although delivering his sweep- 
 ing blows right and left with indiscriminate reck- 
 lessness, seemed during the m@lee to have an 
 intuitive perception of where the greatest danger 
 lay. The savages at that moment were whirling 
 round him and darting at him in all directions, 
 but he singled out this chief at once and bore 
 down upon him like a thunderbolt. The chief 
 was a brave man. He did not wince, but, draw- 
 ing the arrow to his head as the other approached, 
 let it fly full at his breast. The white man dropped 
 on the neck of his steed as if lie had been struck 
 with lightning; the arrow passed close over his 
 back and found its mark in the breast of one of 
 the savages, whose death-yell mingled with that 
 of the chief as, a moment later, the gigantic 
 warrior ran him with a straight point through 
 the body. 
 
 The Indians were scattered now. The rapid 
 dash of that tumultuous fight, although of but a 
 few seconds' duration, had swept the combatants 
 to the extreme edge of the woods, leaving Ber- 
 tram standing in the midst of dead and dying 
 men gazing with a bewildered, helpless look at 
 the terrible scene. March Marston lay close by 
 his side, apparently dead, in the gripe of the 
 savage who had first attacked him, and whose 
 throat his own hand grasped with the tenacity 
 and force of a vice. 
 
THE TRADERS PURSUE THE INDIANS. 235 
 
 Most of the Indians leaped over the bushes and 
 sought the shelter of the thick underwood, as the 
 tremendous horseman, whom doubtless they now 
 deemed in vulnerable, came thundering down upon 
 them again ; but about twenty of the bravest stood 
 their ground. At that moment a loud shout and. 
 a fierce " hurrah ! " rang out and echoed hither 
 and thither among the rocks; and, next instant, 
 Big Waller, followed by Bounce and his friends, 
 as well as by Macgregor and his "whole party, 
 sprang from the Wild-cat Pass, and rushed 
 furiously upon the savages, who had already 
 turned and fled towards the wood for shelter. 
 The whole band crossed the battle-field like a whirl- 
 wind, leaped over or burst through the bushes, 
 and were gone, the crashing tread of their foot- 
 steps and an occasional shout alone remaining to 
 assure the bewildered artist, who was still trans- 
 fixed immovable to the ground, that the whole 
 scene was not a dream. 
 
 But Bertram was not left alone on that bloody 
 field. On the first sound of the approach of the 
 white men to the rescue, the strange horseman, 
 who, from the moment of his bursting so op- 
 portunely on the scene, had seemed the very 
 impersonation of activity and colossal might, 
 pulled up his fiery steed ; and he now sat, gazing 
 calmly into the forest in the direction in which 
 the Indians and traders had disappeared. 
 
 Stupefied though he was, Bertram could not 
 
THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 avoid being impressed find surprised by the 
 sudden and total change which had come over 
 this remarkable hunter. After gazing into the 
 woods, as we have said, for some minutes, he 
 quietly dismounted, and plucking a tuft of grass 
 from the plain, wiped his bloody sword, and 
 sheathed it. Not a trace of his late ferocity was 
 visible. His mind seemed to be filled with sad- 
 ness, for he sighed slightly and shook his head 
 with a look of deep sorrow, as his eyes rested on 
 the dead men. There was a mild gravity in his 
 countenance that seemed to Bertram incompatible 
 with the fiend-like fury of his attack, and a slow 
 heaviness in his motions that amounted almost to 
 laziness, and seemed equally inconsistent with the 
 vigour he had so recently displayed, which was 
 almost cat-like, if we may apply such a term to 
 the actions of so huge a pair as this man and his 
 horse were. 
 
 A profusion of light brown hair hung in heavy 
 masses over his Herculean shoulders, and a bushy 
 moustache and beard of the same colour covered 
 the lower part of his deeply browned face, which 
 was handsome and mild, but eminent] y masculine, 
 in expression. 
 
 Remounting his horse, which seemed now to 
 be as quiet and peaceable as himself, this singular 
 being turned and rode towards that part of the 
 wood that lay nearest to the wild rocky masses 
 that formed the outlet from the pass. On gain- 
 
BERTRAM'S ALARM ox SEEING MARCH. 237 
 
 ing the verge of the plain he turned his head 
 full round, and fixed his clear blue eyes on the 
 wondering artist. A quiet smile played on his 
 bronzed features for an instant, as he bestowed 
 upon him a cheerful nod of farewell. Then, 
 urging his steed forward, he entered the woods 
 at a slow walk, and disappeared. 
 
 The heavy tramp of his horse's hoofs among 
 the broken stones of the rugged path had scarcely 
 died away when the distant tread of the returning 
 fur- traders broke on Bertram's ear. This aroused 
 him from the state of half-sceptical horror in 
 which he gazed upon the scene of blood and 
 death in the midst of which he stood. Presently 
 his eye fell, for the first time, upon the motionless 
 form of March Marston. The sight effectually 
 restored him. With a slight cry of alarm, he 
 sprang to his friend's side, and, kneeling down, 
 endeavoured to loosen the death -like grasp with 
 which he still held the throat of his foe. The 
 horror of the poor artist may be imagined, when 
 he observed that the skull of the Indian was 
 battered in, and that his young comrade's face 
 was bespattered with blood and brains. 
 
 Just then several of the trappers and fur- 
 traders galloped upon the scene of the late skir- 
 mish. 
 
 " Hallo ! Mr. Bertram, here you are ; guess 
 we've polished 'em off this time a few. Hey ! 
 wot's this?" cried Big "Waller, as he and some of 
 
238 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 the others leaped to the ground and surrounded 
 Bertram. " Not dead, is he?" 
 
 The tone in which the Yankee trapper said this 
 betrayed as much rage as regret. The bare idea 
 of his young comrade having been killed by the 
 savages caused him to gnash his teeth with sup- 
 pressed passion. 
 
 "Out o' the way, lads; let me see him/' cried 
 Bounce, who galloped up at that moment, flung 
 himself off his horse, pushed the others aside, and 
 kneeling at his side, laid his hand on March 
 Marston's heart. 
 
 " All right," he said, raising the youth's head, 
 " he's only stunned. Run, Gibault, fetch a drop 
 o' water. The horse that brained this here red- 
 skin, by good luck, only stunned March." 
 
 " Ah ! mon pauvre enfant ! " cried Gibault, as 
 he ran to obey. 
 
 The water quickly restored March, and in a 
 few minutes he was able to sit up arid call to 
 remembrance what had passed. Ere his scattered 
 faculties were quite recovered, the fur-traders re- 
 turned, with Macgregor at their head. 
 
 ( ' Well done, the Wild Man of the West ! " cried 
 McLeod, as he dismounted. "Not badly hurt, 
 young man, I trust." 
 
 " Oh ! nothing to speak of. Only a thump on 
 the head from a horse's hoof," said March ; " I'll 
 be all right in a little time. Did you say any- 
 thing about the Wild Man of the West?" he 
 added earnestly. 
 
DIFFERENT IDEAS ABOUT THE WILD MAN. 239 
 
 " To be sure I did ; but for him you and Mr. 
 Bertram would have been dead men, I fear. Did 
 you not see him?" 
 
 " See him ? no/" replied March, much excited. 
 "I heard a tremendous roar, but just then I fell 
 to the ground, and remember nothing more that 
 happened." 
 
 " Was that quiet grave-looking man the Wild 
 Man of the West?" inquired Bertram, with a 
 mingled feeling of interest and surprise. 
 
 This speech was received with a loud burst of 
 laughter from all who heard it. 
 
 " Well, I've never seed the Wild Man till to- 
 day," said one, " though I've often heerM of him, 
 but I must say the little glimpse I got didn't 
 show much that was mild or grave." 
 
 " I guess your head's bin in a swum, stranger," 
 said another, " I've only seed him this once, but 
 I don't hope to see him agin. He ain't to be 
 trusted, he ain't, that feller." 
 
 " And I've seen him five or six times," added 
 McLeod, " and all I can say is, that twice out o' 
 the five he was like an incarnate fiend, and the 
 other three times when he came to the Moun- 
 tain Fort for ammunition he was as gruff and 
 sulky as a bear with the measles." 
 
 "Well, gentlemen," said Bertram, with more 
 emphasis in his tone than he was wont to employ, 
 " I have seen this man only once, but I've seen 
 him under two aspects to-day, and all that I can 
 say is, that if that was really the Wild Man of 
 
240 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 the West; lie's not quite so wild as he gets credit: 
 for." 
 
 On hearing this, March Marston rose and shook 
 himself. He felt ill at ease in body and rnind. 
 The idea of the Wild Man of the West having 
 actually saved his life, and he not seen him, was 
 a heavy disappointment, and the confused and 
 conflicting accounts of those who had seen him, 
 combined with the racking pains that shot through 
 his own brain, rendered him incapable of forming 
 or expressing any opinion on the subject what- 
 ever ; so he said, abruptly : 
 
 " It's of no use talking here all night, friends. 
 My head's splitting so I think we'd better en- 
 camp." 
 
 March's suggestion was adopted at once. Pro- 
 visions had been carried with them from the fort. 
 The dead bodies of the Indians were buried; a 
 spot at some distance from the scene of the fight 
 was chosen. The fires were lighted, supper was 
 devoured and a watch set, and soon March 
 Marston was dreaming wildly in that savage 
 place about the Wild Man of the West ! 
 
THE TRAPPERS PART FROM THE TRADERS. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 TLe Hunting-ground How they spent the Sabbath-day 
 among the Mountains Threatening Clouds on the 
 Horizon. 
 
 NEXT day the fur-traders prepared to return to 
 the Mountain Fort, and the trappers to continue 
 their journey into the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 At the period of which we write, the fur of 
 the beaver was much in demand in the European 
 markets, and trappers devoted much of their time 
 to the capture of that sagacious animal. From 
 McLeod, Redhnncl learned that a journey of eight 
 or ten days to the south-eastward would bring 
 them to a country that was reported to be much 
 frequented not only by the beaver, but by many 
 other fur-bearing and wild animals; so it was 
 resolved that, having brought their traps and 
 supplies with them, the trappers, instead of re- 
 turning to the fort, should part with their en- 
 tertainers at the spot where the skirmish had 
 occurred, and make for that hunting-ground as 
 quickly as possible. 
 
 "I suppose you don't want to part company 
 with us yet, Mr. Bertram/' said old Redhand, as 
 they were about to start. 
 
 " By no means," replied the artist quickly, " I 
 n 
 
242 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 have no intention of quitting you that is, if you 
 do not find me a burden on your hands;" he 
 added with a sad smile. 
 
 "A burden !" cried Bounce in surprise, "I tell 
 ye wot, sir, I consider yer company a honour." 
 
 "So you won't return with us, young man?" 
 said Macgregor to March Marston, as he mounted 
 his horse, " I'm in want of a stout young fellow, 
 and you'll like the life." 
 
 "I thank ye, sir, for your good opinion/' re- 
 turned March, " but my mind's made up, Fll stick 
 by my comrades ; 1 like trapping but I don't like 
 tradin' though I'm obliged to you for bein' so 
 pressin' all the same." 
 
 The two parties bade each other adieu and 
 separated the one retracing its way through the 
 Wild-cat Pass; the other, with old Redhand at 
 its head, descending into the beautiful country 
 that has been briefly described in the last chapter. 
 
 Six quiet and peaceful weeks now succeeded to 
 the stormy period that had just passed. During 
 this time they wandered pleasantly about in as 
 beautiful a region of the world as the heart of 
 man could wish to dwell in. They reached this 
 country after several days' travel. After arriving 
 they moved about from one beautiful spot to 
 another, setting their beaver-traps in the streams, 
 and remaining a longer or shorter time at each 
 place, according to their success in trapping and 
 hunting. 
 
THE HUNTING-GROUND. 243 
 
 The country was of so peculiarly diversified a 
 formation, that, within the compass of ten miles, 
 every possible variety of scenery existed, from 
 the level stretch of prairie to the towering snow- 
 peaks of the mountains ; from the brake-encom- 
 passed swamp, in which the frogs, ducks, geese, 
 plover, and other denizens of the marshes main- 
 tained perpetual jubilee, to the dry bush-dotted 
 mounds and undulating lands, where the badger 
 delighted to burrow in the sandy soil, while in 
 other places, the wolf, the fox, and the grisly bear 
 prowled amid the dark recesses of the forest. 
 
 It was a truly beautiful and a pre-eminently 
 enjoyable region, and, in the midst of it, under 
 the spreading branches of a magnificent pine, 
 which grew on the top of a little mound that 
 commanded an extensive prospect on every side, 
 the trappers pitched their camp, and began their 
 campaign against the fur-bearing animals that 
 dwelt there. 
 
 It was a quiet sunny sabbath morning when our 
 trappers arrived at the tree above referred to. 
 They had encamped the previous night on a 
 swampy piece of ground, having travelled too late 
 to afford time to search for a better spot, so that 
 they were glad to rise and push forward at the 
 peep of day on sabbath. But when, in the course 
 of a couple of hours, they reached the dry country, 
 they at once proceeded to encamp. 
 
 During their journeying the trappers had 
 B 2 
 
244 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 mutually agreed to rest from all labour on the 
 sabbath-day. Some of them did so from no 
 higher motive than the feeling that it was good 
 for themselves and for their beasts to rest one day 
 in seven from bodily labour. Although not abso- 
 lutely regardless of religion, they nevertheless 
 failed to connect this necessity of theirs with the 
 appointment of a day of rest by that kind and 
 gracious Father, who has told us that " the sab- 
 bath was made for man." Made for him not only, 
 and chiefly, for the benefit of his soul, but also, 
 and secondarily, for the good of his body. 
 
 Others of the party there were, however, who 
 regarded the sabbath rest in a somewhat higher 
 light than did their comrades; though none of 
 them were fully alive to the blessings and privi- 
 leges attaching to the faithful keeping of the 
 Lord's Day. Independently altogether of the 
 delight connected with the contemplation of the 
 wonderful works of God in the wilderness espe- 
 cially of that beautiful portion of the wilderness 
 the trappers experienced a sensation of intense 
 pleasure in the simple act of physical repose after 
 their long, restless, and somewhat exciting journey. 
 They wandered about from spot to spot, from hill 
 to hill, in a species of charming indolence of body, 
 that seemed to increase, rather than to diminish, 
 the activity of their minds. Sometimes they 
 rambled or rested on the sunny slopes in groups, 
 sometimes in couples, and sometimes singly. 
 
THEOLOGY OF MARCH AND BERTRAM. 245 
 
 March Marston and the artist sauntered about 
 together, and conversed with animated fluency 
 and wandering volubility as young minds are 
 wont to do on things past,, present, and to come; 
 things terrestrial and celestial. In short, there 
 was no subject, almost, that did not get a share of 
 their attention, as they sauntered by the rippling 
 brook or over the flowering plain, or stood upon 
 the mountain side. They tried " everything by 
 turns, and nothing long," and, among other 
 mental occupations, they read portions of the 
 Bible together; for Bertram found that March 
 carried his mother's Testament in an inner breast- 
 pocket of his hunting-shirt, and March discovered 
 that his friend had a small copy of the Bible 
 also a mother's gift which shared the pouch of 
 his leather coat with the well-known sketch-book. 
 They conversed freely and somewhat boldly on 
 what they read, and we doubt not that our learned 
 divines, had they listened to the talk of the 
 youthful pioneer and the young hunter, would 
 have been surprised, perhaps edified, by the 
 simple, practical, common-sense views promul- 
 gated by those raw theologians. Certainly, any 
 one listening to the grave, kindly, philosophical 
 commentary of March Marston, would never have 
 believed in the truth of that statement at the 
 commencement of this story, wherein it is asserted 
 somewhat positively that " March Marston was 
 mad ! " 
 
246 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 Bounce, and Big Waller, and Black Gibault, 
 drew naturally together and speculated, after 
 their own peculiar fashion, on every subject of 
 thought within the rdach of their capacities ; and 
 as Bounce's capacities embraced a pretty wide 
 range, the " feelosophical " views he set forth upon 
 that lovely sabbath-day were so varied, so eccen- 
 tric, so graphic, and so apparently inexhaustible, 
 that he effectually quelled Gibault's inveterate 
 tendency to jest, and filled Big Waller with 
 deeper admiration than ever. 
 
 As for B/edhand and the Indian, they wandered 
 about in sympathetic silence, broken ever and 
 anon by the old trapper passing a remark on 
 some interesting peculiarity of a leaf, an insect, 
 or a flower. It has been said, that as men grow 
 older they find deeper pleasure in the contempla- 
 tion of the minute things of nature, and are 
 less desirous than they were wont to expatiate 
 on the striking and the grand. What truth there 
 is in the remark we cannot tell ; but, certain it is, 
 while the younger men of the party seemed to 
 cast longing, admiring, and gladsome looks over 
 the distant landscape, and up at the snow and cloud- 
 encompassed heights of the Rocky Mountains, old 
 R/edhand bent his eyes, we might almost say 
 lovingly, on the earth. He would sit down on a 
 stone, and pluck a leaf, which he would examine 
 with minute care; or watch with the deepest 
 interest the frantic efforts of a little ant, as it 
 
THE FIRST DAY OF TllAPPING. 247 
 
 staggered along under its gigantic burden of a 
 single seed, climbing over a mountainous twig, 
 tumbling into a cavernous hole the size of a hazel- 
 nut, or being brought to a hesitating pause by a 
 mountain-torrent a quarter of an inch broad. 
 
 The sedate Indian took special pleasure in 
 watching the doings of his old friend. Usually, 
 he contented himself with a grunt of assent when 
 Redhand made a remark on the peculiarities of a 
 plant or an insect, but sometimes he ventured on a 
 brief observation, and occasionally even proposed 
 a question to his aged companion, which Eedhand 
 found it difficult to answer. There was little 
 interchange of thought between those two silent 
 men, but there was much of quiet enjoyment. 
 
 So passed the sabbath-day. Early on the follow- 
 ing morning the trappers were astir, and before the 
 sun tinged the mountain-peaks, their beaver-traps 
 were set, an extensive portion of the territory they 
 had thus quietly taken possession of had been 
 explored in several directions, a couple of deer had 
 been shot, a mountain-goat seen, and a grisly bear 
 driven from his den and pursued, but not killed ; 
 besides a number of wild fowl having been bagged, 
 and an immense number of creatures, including 
 mustangs, or wild horses, roused from their lairs. 
 
 When the scattered hunters returned to the 
 camp to breakfast, they found themselves in a 
 satisfied, happy state of mind, with a strong dis- 
 position, on the part of some, to break their fast 
 
248 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 without wasting time in cooking the viands. " It 
 was of no manner of use cooking/' Big Waller 
 said, "when a feller was fit to eat his own head 
 off of his own shoulders 1 " as for Gibault, he 
 declared that he meant to give up cooking his 
 victuals from that time forward, and eat them raw. 
 The others seemed practically to have come to the 
 same conclusion, for certain it is, that the break- 
 fast, when devoured on that first Monday morn- 
 ing, was decidedly underdone, to use a mild 
 expression ! 
 
 But it was when the pipes were lighted that 
 the peculiarities and capabilities of that wild 
 region became fully known, for then it was that 
 each hunter began to relate with minute accuracy 
 the adventures of that morning. As they had 
 scattered far and wide, and hunted or trapped 
 separately, each had something new and more or 
 less interesting to tell. March told of how he 
 had shot a grey goose, and had gone into a 
 moving swamp after it, and had sunk up to the 
 middle, and all but took to swimming to save 
 himself, but had got hold of the goose, notwith- 
 standing, as the drumstick he had just picked 
 would testify. Bounce told of having gone after 
 a moose-deer, and, failing to come up with it, was 
 fain to content himself with a bighorn and a 
 buck; and Big Waller asserted that he had 
 suddenly come upon a grisly bear, which he 
 would certainly have shot, had it not run away 
 
SUCCESS OF THE TRAPPERS. 249 
 
 from him. Whereupon Gibault, wilfully mis- 
 understanding, said, with a look of unutterable 
 surprise, that he would never have believed it 
 no, never had anybody else told him, that Big 
 Waller had actually run away from a bear ! He 
 couldn't bear to hear of it, and would not believe 
 it though Waller himself said it. As for Bertram, 
 having filled the pages of his sketch-book, back 
 and front, he was compelled to take to miniature 
 drawing in corners and blank bits, and in this 
 way began to book the entire region, and to revel 
 in his loved art. 
 
 Several weeks passed away, and during that 
 time of peace and plenty, our trappers had it all 
 to themselves. They caught and killed numbers 
 of animals ; stripped off, dried, and packed quan- 
 tities of valuable furs ; ate enormous meals, with 
 the gusto of men who had laboriously earned the 
 right to do so, and related stories and anecdotes 
 enough to fill a huge volume. In short, they 
 enjoyed themselves beyond conception, and Ber- 
 tram agreed with March Marston in thinking that 
 Bunyan's land of Beulah could not have sur- 
 passed that delightful region. 
 
 But one day there came a small cloud on their 
 blue sky of felicity. An event occurred which 
 rudely dispelled their pleasant dreams, filled their 
 hearts with anxiety, and finally broke up their 
 camp in a way that led to disastrous, though not 
 altogether ruinous, consequences. 
 
250 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Business unpleasantly Interrupted The Mountain Fort in 
 Danger Trappers to the Rescue A Rude Meeting with 
 Toes in the Dark A Wild Race March meets with 
 a Severe Misfortune. 
 
 ONE morning, just as the trappers were dropping 
 into camp about the usual breakfast hour, laden 
 with the produce of the trap and the chase, they 
 were startled by the sudden appearance of a large 
 band of mounted Indians, who galloped to the 
 top of a neighbouring mound, and, crowding to- 
 gether, stood still to gaze upon the invaders of 
 their hunting-grounds, for such they deemed the 
 trappers, no doubt. 
 
 To snatch up their arms and run ta a place of 
 safety, was the work of a moment. It must not 
 be supposed that such experienced men as Red- 
 hand and Bounce were altogether unprepared for a 
 surprise of this sort. On the day of their arrival 
 at the hunting-ground, their first care had been 
 to select such a place for their camp as lay in 
 close proximity to some natural stronghold. Not 
 ten paces from the camp-fire there was a sort of 
 hollow in the ground, on the very summit of the 
 mound on which they were encamped. Here all 
 their valuables had been placed, and round the 
 
PRECAUTIONS OF THE TllAPPERS. 251 
 
 edge of the hole a rude breast-work had been 
 raised, so that the party, when in it, could fire 
 through little openings in the breast-work without 
 exposing themselves to view. 
 
 To this fortress they retired, the instant the 
 Indians made their appearance. Fortunately all 
 the members of the little party had come in. 
 
 " They're holdin' a council o' war/' said Bounce, 
 carefully examining the priming of his piece. ." It's 
 as like as not they'll attack us, but they'll git a 
 hearty, and an oncommonly warm, welcome." 
 
 " They '11 not attack us," said Redhand. " They 
 know that white men never travel without plenty 
 of powder and ball, and they don't like taking a 
 place by storm." 
 
 " Ay," remarked Waller, sarcastically, " 'cause 
 they knows that the first man as comes on is 
 sartin sure to fall, an' they knows that they can't 
 come on without somebody comin' first." 
 
 { ' But there's brave fellers among the redskins," 
 rejoined Bounce, " I knowed a set o' young fellers 
 as banded thirselves together, and swore they'd 
 go through fire an' water, thick an' thin, but 
 they'd niver turn back from the face o' danger 
 wherever they met it. So, one day they wos 
 crossin' a river on the ice, an' the first on 'em 
 fell in, an' wos carried away by the current, an' 
 what does the second do, but he walks straight 
 into the hole, an' wos drowned too, an' the nixt 
 wos goin' to foller, when the old warriors ran at 
 
252 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 him an' forced him back. If they hadn't stopped 
 him, I do b'lieve " 
 
 "They're makin' up their minds to do some- 
 thin' or other/' interrupted March. 
 
 " I sincerely hope they won't fight/' murmured 
 Bertram, earnestly. " It is fearful to think of the 
 blood that is shed by these men needlessly." 
 
 From the conduct of the Indians it became 
 evident that on this occasion they sympathized 
 with the artist in his desire not to fight, for one 
 of v their number dismounted, and, advancing 
 unarmed towards the trappers, made signs of 
 friendship. 
 
 "It's as well to be bold an' appear to trust 
 'em," said Redhand, laying down his rifle and 
 leaping over the breast- work, "keep your guns 
 ready, lads, an' if ye see treachery, let drive at 
 once. Don't be afraid o' hittin' me. I'll take 
 my chance." 
 
 After a few minutes' conversation with the 
 Indian, Redhand returned to his party. 
 
 "That redskin/' said he, "tells me they're on 
 an expedition to hunt the buffalo on the prairie, 
 and that they're good friends of the white men, 
 and would like to have a talk with us before they 
 go on; but I don't believe 'em. From what I 
 heard Mr. McLeod say at the Mountain Fort, I 
 think it not unlikely they are bound on an expe- 
 dition against the whites. The very fact of their 
 wishin' to keep friends with us instead of tryin' 
 
THE OFFERED FRIENDSHIP DECLINED. 253 
 
 to lift our scalps and carry off our furs and horses, 
 shows me they've some more pressin' business on 
 hand. Mr. McLeod described to me the appear- 
 ance of one or two o' the Injuns that hates the 
 fur-traders most, so that I might be on my guard, 
 an.' I'm quite sure some of them are with that 
 band. Now, what say ye ? Shall I tell 'em we 
 don't want ther acquaintance?" 
 
 "Tell 'em they're a set o' lyin' thieves," said 
 Big Waller, "I guess we'll have nothin' to say 
 to 'em wotiver." 
 
 "Oui, et give to dem mine complements," 
 added Gibault, "an' say we ver' moch 'blige by 
 dere goodness, mais, dey vill all be shooted if dey 
 not go away queek." 
 
 Redhand did not give these polite messages to 
 the Indian, but on returning to him he presented 
 him with a piece of tobacco, and advised him to 
 continue his journey without loss of time, as the 
 buffaloes were travelling south and might be out 
 of the way when they reached the prairie. 
 
 Whether the Indians felt angry or not it is 
 impossible to say. They seemed indifferent to 
 their cool reception by the trappers, and soon 
 after rode off at full speed, in a direction that 
 led away from the Mountain Fort, a circum- 
 stance which still further confirmed Redhand in 
 his suspicions. 
 
 After an eager hasty consultation, it was re- 
 solved that they should follow the savages, and 
 
254 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 if their trail was found to diverge, as was fully 
 expected,, towards the fort, that they should en- 
 deavour to pass them in the night, and proceed 
 by forced marches, in order to get there in time 
 to warn the fur-traders of the impending danger. 
 
 In less than an hour after the Indians left 
 them, the trappers were galloping after them in 
 hot haste. During the course of the day they 
 found that the trail doubled back, as they had 
 anticipated, so, making a wide detour, they headed 
 the Indians, and during the afternoon got a little 
 in advance of them on their way to the Mountain 
 Fort. 
 
 But the trappers had a subtle enemy to deal 
 with. Just as the Indians were about to encamp 
 that night for a few hours' rest, they chanced to 
 diverge a short way from the direct line of march, 
 and, in doing so, crossed the tracks of the trappers. 
 A halt was called, and a minute inspection of the 
 tracks made. One of the savages galloped back 
 on them a considerable distance, and soon re- 
 turned with the information that they led towards 
 the camp of the pale-faces. From the appearance 
 of the hoof-prints they knew that they were fresh, 
 and, thus, at once guessed that their true inten- 
 tions had been suspected, and might yet be frus- 
 trated by the trappers. Instead of encamping, 
 therefore, they pushed on at full speed and very 
 soon came up with the white men. It was a 
 dark night, so that they could not see far in 
 
A PELL-MELL RACE TO THE FORT. X3O 
 
 advance of them, and thus it happened that the 
 two parties, on entering a narrow defile, almost 
 rode into each other, with a yell of fierce surprise 
 on both sides. 
 
 As there were at least fifty Indians, Eedhand 
 thought it better to avoid a doubtful combat 
 by scattering his men through the woods, and 
 letting each make the best of his way to the 
 fort singly. 
 
 " Run boys ! scatter ! to the fort I" 
 
 This was all that he deemed needful in the way 
 of command or explanation. Firing a single volley 
 at the enemy, they turned and fled. 
 
 "Foller me," shouted Waller, to the bewil- 
 dered Bertram, as a shower of arrows whistled 
 past their ears. The artist obeyed mechanically, 
 and in another moment they were flying through 
 the wood at a pace that seemed, and actually 
 was, reckless under the circumstances. But the 
 Indians did not attempt to pursue. They knew 
 that their intention had been discovered, and 
 that their only chance of success now lay in out- 
 riding the pale-faces. The ride, in fact, became 
 a long race; neither party making the slightest 
 attempt to hunt up the other, but each straining 
 every nerve and muscle to get first to the doomed 
 fort. 
 
 The scattered trappers rode for a long time 
 singly, but as they neared the fort, one or two of 
 them met, and when they came first in sight of 
 
256 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 the tall flagstaff, Bounce, Redhand, and Gibault, 
 rode abreast. 
 
 McLeod was standing in front of the fort, when 
 the three horsemen came dashing over the plain. 
 He hastily summoned the men and closed the 
 gate, but as the foremost rider came near, he was 
 recognized ; the gate was thrown open, and they 
 galloped into the square. In a few hasty words 
 their errand was explained. Arms and ammuni- 
 tion were served out, and six men were stationed 
 at the gate, to be in readiness to open it to ap- 
 proaching friends, or to shut it in the face of 
 foes. 
 
 But the others of the party were not so fortu- 
 nate as these three. The Indians reached the 
 fort before they did, and one of their number was 
 left, unknown to them, in a state of insensibility 
 near the spot where the first rencontre had taken 
 place. 
 
 When the Indians and trappers met in the 
 narrow defile, as before related, one of the 
 arrows, which had been discharged very much 
 at random, entered the shoulder of March 
 Marston's horse and wounded it mortally. At 
 first March thought the wound was slight, and, 
 hearing the shouts of some of the savages not far 
 behind him, he urged his horse forward as rapidly 
 as the nature of the ground would admit of. 
 Before he had gone a quarter of a mile, however, 
 the poor steed fell, throwing March over its head. 
 
MARCH ALONE IN THE FOREST. 257 
 
 In his flight the youth's forehead came into 
 violent contact with a branch, and he fell to the 
 ground insensible. 
 
 His comrades, ignorant of his fate, continued 
 their wild flight. Thus, our hero was forsaken, 
 and left bruised and bleeding in the dark forest. 
 
258 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 March gets a Surprise ; more than that, he gets a Yariety of 
 Surprises Meets with a Strange Hunter Goes in a 
 Strange Fashion to a Strange Cavern and beholds 
 Strange Sights Besides other Matters of Interest. 
 
 ON recovering consciousness, March discovered 
 that it was broad day-light, from which he argued 
 in a confused sort of way that he must have lain 
 there all night. He also discovered that his head, 
 which ached violently, rested on the knee of some 
 unknown individual, who bathed his temples with 
 cold water. Looking up he encountered the gaze 
 of a pair of soft blue eyes. 
 
 Now there is something exceedingly capti- 
 vating in a pair of soft blue eyes not that there 
 may not be something quite as captivating in a 
 pair of brown, or black, or grey eyes but there 
 is something singularly captivating in the pecu- 
 liar style of captivation wherewith a man is cap- 
 tivated by a pair of blue, distinctly blue, 
 eyes. Perhaps it is that their resemblance to the 
 cerulean depths of the bright sky, and the blue 
 profundities of the ocean, invests them with a 
 suggestive influence that is agreeable to the 
 romantic and idealizing tendencies of human 
 nature ; or that the colour is (or ought to be, if it 
 is not) emblematic of purity. We throw out 
 
The Wild Man supporting March Marston. P. 2>3. 
 
MARCH MEETS A KIND FRIEND. 259 
 
 this suggestion solely for the benefit of unimpas- 
 sioned philosophers. Those whose hearts are 
 already under the pleasant thraldom of black or 
 brown eyes are incapable of forming an opinion 
 on the abstract question. 
 
 Well, March observed, further, that below those 
 soft blue eyes, there was a handsome Roman 
 nose, and immediately below that a moustache, 
 and a thick short beard of curly light-brown hair. 
 A slight very slight, feeling of regret mingled 
 with the astonishment with which March passed 
 from the contemplation of the soft blue eyes to 
 the bushy beard. He also noted that the stranger 
 wore a little leathern cap, and that a profusion 
 of rich brown hair descended from his head to his 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Ye're better, lad," said the owner of the blue 
 eyes in that deep musical bass voice, which one 
 meets with but rarely, and which resembles 
 strongly, at times, the low pipes of a cathedral 
 organ. 
 
 "Thank ee, yes, I'm 
 
 " There, don't move yet awhile. You're badly 
 bruised, lad. I'll go fetch ye another drop o' 
 water." 
 
 The owner of the blue eyes rose as he spoke, 
 laid March's head softly on the ground, and 
 walked towards a neighbouring brook. In doing 
 so he displayed to the wondering gaze of March 
 the proportions of a truly splendid looking man- 
 s 2 
 
260 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 He was considerably above six feet in height, but 
 it was not that so much as the herculean build of 
 his chest and shoulders that struck March with 
 surprise. His costume was the ordinary leather 
 hunting shirt and leggings of a backwoodsman^ 
 and, although deeply bronzed, his colour not less 
 than his blue eyes and brown hair told that he 
 was not an Indian. 
 
 As he returned, carrying a little birch-bark dish 
 full of water in his hand, March observed that 
 the lines of his forehead indicated a mingled 
 feeling of anger and sadness, and that his heavy 
 brows frowned somewhat. He also noted more 
 clearly now the man's towering height, and the 
 enormous breadth of his chest. As he lay there 
 on his back with his head pillowed on a tuft of 
 moss, he said inwardly to himself, " I never saw 
 such a fellow as that before in all my life \" 
 
 And little wonder that March Marston thought 
 thus, for, as no doubt the reader has already 
 guessed, the far-famed Wild Man of the West 
 himself stood before him ! 
 
 But he did not know him. On the only occa- 
 sion on which he had had an opportunity of be- 
 holding this renowned man, March had been ren- 
 dered insensible just as he came on the field, and 
 the exaggerated descriptions he had heard of him 
 seemed quite irreconcilable with the soft blue eye 
 and gentle manner of the hunter who had come 
 thus opportunely to his aid. For one moment, 
 
MARCH AND THE WILD MAN. 261 
 
 indeed, the idea did occur to March that this 
 was the Wild Man. It was natural that, having 
 had his thoughts for so long a period filled with 
 conjectures in reference to this wonderful creature, 
 he should suppose the first tall, mysterious man 
 he met must be he. But he dismissed the notion 
 as untenable and absurd on second thoughts. 
 That the blue-eyed, calm, dignified hunter who 
 kneeled by his side and held the refreshing water 
 to his lips as if he were a trained sick-nurse, 
 should be the Wild Man, the man reported to be 
 forty feet high, covered with hair, and exceeding 
 fierce besides ugly, was out of the question. And 
 when March shut his eyes in the full enjoyment 
 of the cool draught, of which, poor fellow, he 
 stood much in need, and heard the supposed 
 wild man give vent to a sigh, which caused him 
 to look up in surprise, so that he observed the 
 mild blue eyes gazing sadly in his face, and the 
 large head to which they belonged shaking from 
 side to side mournfully, he almost laughed at him- 
 self for even momentarily entertaining such an 
 absurd idea. 
 
 March Marston had much to learn we mean, 
 in the way of reading human character and in 
 judging from appearances. He had not yet ob- 
 served, in the course of his short life, that if a 
 blue eye is capable of expressing soft pity, it is 
 also pre-eminently capable of indicating tiger- 
 like ferocity. He did not consider that the gen- 
 
2G2 TflE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 tlest natures are, when roused to fury, the most 
 terrible in their outward aspect. He did not 
 reflect that if this giant (for he almost deserved 
 thus to be styled), instead of being engaged in 
 an office of kindness, that naturally induced gen- 
 tleness of action, and that called for no other 
 feelings than those of tenderness and pity, were 
 placed on a war-horse, armed with sword and 
 shield, and roused to fury by some such sight as 
 that of a large band of savage Indians attacking 
 a small and innocent group of white trappers, 
 he might then amply fulfil all the conditions that 
 would entitle him to the wildest possible name 
 that could be invented. 
 
 The prominent ideas in March's mind at that 
 time were, a pair of blue eyes and a large, gentle 
 hand; so he quietly and finally dismissed the 
 Wild Man from his thoughts. 
 
 Luckily, the Wild Man did not treat March in 
 a similar manner. After allowing him to rest 
 quietly for a few minutes, he said 
 
 "Now, lad, I think ye're improvin'. Ye're 
 badly battered about the head and shoulders so 
 I'll take ye home with me." 
 
 " Home with you ? " repeated March. 
 
 " Ay, put yer arms round my neck/' returned 
 the Wild Man in a tone which, though soft and 
 low, it was not possible to disobey. 
 
 March performed this somewhat endearing ac- 
 tion in silent surprise, whereupon the Wild Man 
 
introduced his left arm below the poor youth's 
 back, and with his right grasped him round the 
 legs, and thus lifted him from the ground and 
 carried him away. 
 
 March experienced a sensation as if all his 
 larger joints were being dislocated, and felt dis- 
 posed to cry out, but restrained himself with a 
 powerful effort. Presently his bearer stopped, 
 and, looking round, March observed that he was 
 standing by the side of a horse. 
 
 " Hold on, lad, till I mount." 
 
 " You'd better let me down till you get up/' 
 suggested March. 
 
 " No/' replied this singularly laconic individual. 
 
 Standing as he was, the Wild Man managed 
 by raising March a little to lay his left hand on 
 the pommel of his saddle ; next moment his foot 
 was in the stirrup, the moment after, he himself 
 was in the saddle, and a touch of his heel sent his 
 horse cantering away towards the mountains. 
 
 Had March Marston seen his deliverer at that 
 time, with his long hair waving freely in the 
 breeze, in emulation of the voluminous mane and 
 tail of his splendid horse, his thoughts regarding 
 the Wild Man of the West would have certainly 
 returned more powerfully than ever. But March 
 did not see him, his eyes being shut, his lips 
 pursed, and his teeth set in an heroic attempt to 
 endure the agonies to which he was subjected by 
 the motion of the horse. 
 
264 THE AVILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 In half an hour they reached a rocky defile that 
 led up into one of those wild, gloomy glens that 
 are so characteristic of the Rocky Mountains. 
 Here the Wild Man had to check his pace and 
 proceed at a walk, thereby affording much relief 
 to his wounded companion. 
 
 "Art sore i' the bones, lad?" inquired the 
 stout horseman, looking down at his charge as if 
 he were a small infant in arms. 
 
 " Rather," replied March. " Don't you think 
 it would be better for me to ride behind you ? I 
 think I could manage to hold on." 
 
 " No you couldn't." 
 
 " I fear I must be a terrible weight carried in 
 this fashion," urged March. 
 
 "Weight!" echoed the hunter, with a quiet 
 chuckle, but, as he did not vouchsafe any further 
 reply, March was left to interpret the expression 
 as he thought fit. 
 
 " I hope no bones are broken," inquired March 
 in a tone of anxiety. 
 
 " Hope not," replied his captor. 
 
 We use the word " captor " advisedly, for 
 March was so utterly unable at that time, physi- 
 cally as well as morally, to resist the will of this 
 strange hunter, that he felt much more like a 
 captive in the gripe of a mighty jailor than an 
 invalid in the arms of his nurse. 
 
 " I fear there are," said March, as a rude 
 motion of the horse caused him excruciating agony. 
 
V er y likely," replied the other not by any 
 means in a careless, indifferent way, but with the 
 air and tone of a straightforward man giving his 
 opinion in reference to a matter of fact. " But/' 
 he added in a consolatory tone, " I'll see when we 
 get home." 
 
 " Home ! " repeated March, " Why where is 
 your home ? " 
 
 " In the mountains here. We're about there 
 now." 
 
 As he spoke, the hunter turned his horse sharp 
 to the left and entered a still more narrow and 
 gloomy defile than the one they had just been 
 ascending. So narrow was it and overshadowed 
 by high precipitous cliffs that the light of day 
 had to struggle for entrance even at noontide. At 
 night it was dark as Erebus. The horse had con- 
 siderable difficulty in advancing. Indeed no horse 
 that had not been trained to pick its steps among 
 the confused masses of rock and debris that formed 
 the bottom of that ravine or chasm, could have 
 ascended it at all. But the fine animal which 
 bore March and the Wild Man of the West seemed 
 to act more like a human being than a horse in 
 winding out and in among the intricacies of the 
 place. 
 
 At length they reached the upper end of the 
 gorge. Here the cliffs, which rose perpendicularly 
 to a height of three or four hundred feet, drew so 
 near to each other that at one place they were 
 
266 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 not more than three yards asunder. <Just beyond 
 this point they receded again and terminated 
 abruptly in a sort of circle or amphitheatre, the 
 floor of which could not have been more than 
 thirty yards in diameter, and was covered with 
 small gravel ; the sides were quite perpendicular, 
 and rose so high that on looking up one felt as if 
 one had got into the bottom of a natural funnel, 
 at the top of which a 'round bit of bright blue sky 
 sent down a few scanty rays of light. 
 
 In spite of the pain it caused him, March raised 
 his head and looked round as they rode into this 
 gloomy cavernous place. Then, glancing at the 
 face of the strange being who carried him, a feel- 
 ing of superstitious dread took possession of his 
 heart for a moment, as he remembered the many 
 conversations he and Bounce had had about evil 
 spirits appearing in human form, and he thought 
 that perhaps he had actually fallen into the hands 
 of one. But the grave quiet face and, above all, 
 the soft blue eyes, quickly put to flight such fears, 
 although they could not altogether dispel the 
 solemn awe he felt at being carried so suddenly 
 into such a mysterious place. 
 
 But he had scarcely recovered some degree of 
 confidence, when his mind was again thrown into 
 a violent state of agitation by the fact that the 
 horse, turning to the right, began deliberately to 
 ascend the precipice, which was as perpendicular 
 as a wall. It did not indeed ascend after the man- 
 
THE HOME OF THE HUNTER. 267 
 
 ner of a fly on a window, but it went up on what 
 appeared to be a narrow, spiral pathway, In a few 
 seconds they had ascended about fifty feet, and 
 March, projecting out from the precipice as he 
 did, owing to his position in the rider's left arm, 
 felt a horrible sensation of giddiness come over 
 him, and could not suppress a slight groan. 
 
 " Don't be affeared, lad," said his companion, 
 " I've got ye tight, an' the horse is used to it. 
 The track's broader than ye think, only ye can't 
 see it as ye lie now." 
 
 March felt reassured ; nevertheless, he shut his 
 eyes very tight and held his breath. 
 
 Presently he felt that they had turned sharp to 
 the right, so he ventured to open his eyes, and 
 found that they were standing at the mouth of 
 what appeared to be a cavern. In another mo- 
 ment they were under its dark roof and the horse 
 came to a stand. From the hasty glance he gave 
 it, he could only ascertain that the interior was 
 buried in profound darkness. 
 
 Without causing March to move in any way, 
 the stout horseman dismounted. In fact, the 
 burden seemed no greater to him than a child 
 would be to an ordinary man. 
 
 " Here we are, at home," he said. " Come, 
 old horse, get away in." 
 
 The horse obeyed, and disappeared in the 
 darkness beyond. 
 
 " Now, lad, don't be affeared, I know every fut 
 
268 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 o' tlie way. Ye can shut yer eyes an' ye like- 
 but there's no occasion/' 
 
 Saying this, he advanced with a steady tread 
 into the cave, the echoes of which were still 
 ringing with the clatter of the horse's hoofs as it 
 passed over the stone floor. It could not have 
 been more than a quarter of a minute when they 
 reached the end of what appeared to be the outer 
 vestibule of this cavern, though to March it seemed 
 to be more than five minutes ; and, now that he 
 could no longer see the blue eyes, all manner of 
 horrible doubts and fears assailed him. He felt 
 deeply his helpless condition, poor fellow. Had 
 he been sound in wind and limb he would have 
 cared little ; for a brave and a strong man na- 
 turally feels that he can fight a stout battle for 
 life in all or any circumstances. But part of this 
 prop (namely, strength) having been removed by 
 his recent accident, he felt like a miserable 
 child. 
 
 Doubtless it is good for strong men to be 
 brought thus low sometimes, just to prove to them 
 what they are by nature very slow to believe, 
 that they, quite as much as the weak and helpless 
 ones of this world, are dependent at all times on 
 their fellows. 
 
 On reaching the end of the outer cave, the 
 hunter turned to the left, stooped down in order 
 to pass below a small natural arch, and finally 
 
269 
 
 stood still in the middle of another cavern, on the 
 floor of which he deposited his burden with much 
 tenderness and care. 
 
 There was light in this cave, but it was so dim 
 as to be insufficient to illuminate the surrounding 
 objects. March perceived, on looking up, that it 
 entered through a small aperture in the side of 
 the cavern near the roof, which was not more than 
 12 feet from the floor. There were several pieces 
 of charred wood on one side of the cave, in which 
 a few sparks of fire still lingered. 
 
 Without saying a word the owner of this 
 strange abode went towards these, and, blowing 
 them into a flame, heaped large logs upon them, 
 so that, in ten minutes, the place was brilliantly 
 illuminated with a ruddy blaze that did one's 
 heart good to look upon. 
 
 By the light of the fire March perceived that he 
 had been deposited on a couch of pine-branches. 
 He was about to make other observations, when 
 his captor turned to him and said 
 
 " I'll go an' see to the horse, an'll be back in a 
 minute ; so keep yer mind easy/' 
 
 " And, pray, what name am I to call my host 
 by ? " said March, unable to restrain his curiosity 
 any longer. 
 
 A dark, almost fierce, frown covered the man's 
 face, as he said angrily, ce Boy, curiosity is a bad 
 thing anywise, it's bad here. I've brought you 
 
270 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 to this cave, 'cause you'd ha' died i' the woods if 
 I hadn't. Don't ask questions about what don't 
 consarn ye." 
 
 "Nay, friend, I meant no offence/' replied 
 March. " I've no desire to pry into any man's 
 secrets. Nevertheless, it's but natural to want 
 to know how to address a man when ye converse 
 with him." 
 
 "True, true," replied the other, somewhat 
 mollified. " Call me Dick, it's as good a name as 
 any, and better than my own." 
 
 There was a slight touch of bitterness in the 
 tone in which this was said, as the man turned on 
 his heel to quit the cave. 
 
 " Stay," cried March, " you only give me one 
 name, friend, so I'll do the same by you. My 
 name's March, there, now you may march about 
 your business." 
 
 Dick smiled, and said, "Well, March, Til be 
 with ye again, and have a look at your sore 
 bones, in two minutes." 
 
 When he was gone, March, for the first time 
 since his accident, bethought him of his- comrades. 
 Since recovering from the state of insensibility 
 into which his fall had thrown him, his mind 
 had been so absorbed by the strange events that 
 had been presented to him in such rapid succes- 
 sion, as well as with the pain that racked his head 
 and limbs, that he had had no time to think 
 about them. But, now that he was left in that 
 
DICK PRONOUNCES MARCH ALL RIGHT. 271 
 
 quiet place alone, the whole circu instances of the 
 recent pursuit and flight rushed suddenly upon 
 him, and his mind was filled with anxious fore- 
 bodings as to the fate of his comrades. 
 
 " Oh ! Fm glad you've come back," he cried, 
 as Dick re-entered the cave ; " I quite forgot my 
 comrades shame on me ! but my miserable head 
 has got such a smash, that a' most everything's 
 bin drove out of it." 
 
 "Time enough to speak o j them after we've 
 seen to your bones," said Dick. 
 
 " Nay, but " 
 
 " After" said Dick, in a tone that was not to 
 be gainsaid. 
 
 March submitted with a sigh, and his eccentric 
 host proceeded to manipulate and punch him in 
 a way that might, perhaps, have been highly 
 necessary, but was by no means agreeable. After 
 a few minutes he pronounced his patient all right, 
 only a little bruised ! Having said which, he 
 proceeded to prepare some food, and said to 
 March that he might now speak about his com- 
 rades. 
 
 At first he seemed to pay little attention to the 
 youth's hasty narrative ; but on hearing that the 
 Indians were hastening to attack the Mountain 
 Fort, he sprang up, and asked a few questions 
 eagerly. It was evident that the news troubled 
 him deeply. 
 
 Taking one or two hasty strides 'up and down 
 
272 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 the cavern, and paying no attention to the roast- 
 ing meat, which he seemed to have utterly for- 
 gotten, the Wild Man of the West muttered 
 angrily to himself, and a slight dash of that tiger- 
 like flash, which had gone so far to earn him his 
 title, lighted up his blue eye, insomuch that 
 March Marston looked at him in amazement not 
 unmingled with awe. Thoughts of the Wild Man 
 of the West once more occurred to him ; but in 
 his former cogitations on that subject he had so 
 thoroughly discarded the idea of this kind blue- 
 eyed hunter being that far-famed and ferocious 
 individual, that his thoughts only took the form 
 of the mental question, " I wonder if the Wild 
 Man o' the West could beat such a fellow as that 
 at a fair stand-up fight/ 5 So powerfully did this 
 thought afreet him, that he could not refrain from 
 exclaiming 
 
 cc I say, Dick, did you ever hear of the Wild 
 Man of the West ? " 
 
 Dick was so much tickled by the question, that 
 his angry mood vanished, and, turning towards 
 his guest with a smile, while his blue eye seemed 
 milder than ever it had appeared before, he 
 said, 
 
 " Yes, lad, I've heard of him/' 
 
 " Have you seen him ? " continued March 
 eagerly. 
 
 " I have, many a time." 
 
 "What is he like?" 
 
" He's like me, 3 ' replied Dick, with another 
 smile,, the softness of which would have driven 
 March to an immeasurable distance from the 
 truth, had he ever been near it. 
 
 "Like you! Oh, I suppose you mean he's 
 something about your size. Well, I don't wonder 
 at that, for you're an uncommonly big fellow, 
 Dick; but I fancy his appearance is very dif- 
 ferent," 
 
 t{ Well no. He's got light hair and blue eyes, 
 like me." 
 
 This was a poser to March. It was so totally 
 subversive of all his preconceived ideas, that it 
 reduced him for some moments to silence. 
 
 " Isn't he hairy all over, like a fox, and very 
 ugly?" inquired March, recovering from his 
 surprise. 
 
 This was a poser, in turn, to the Wild Man. 
 To be called upon suddenly to pronounce an 
 opinion on his own looks was embarrassing, to say 
 the least of it. 
 
 " He's not exactly hairy all over," said Dick, 
 after a moment's thought, "though it can't be 
 denied he's got plenty of hair on his head and 
 chin like me. As for his looks, lad, it ain't easy 
 to say whether he's ugly or pritty, for men don't 
 agree on sich pints, d'ye see." 
 
 "Do sit down beside me, Dick, and tell me 
 about this Wild Man," said March, earnestly. 
 "You can't fancy how anxious I am to see him. 
 T 
 
274 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 I've come here for that very purpose. No doubt 
 Fve come to shoot and trap, too, but chiefly to 
 see the Wild Man o' the West. An' isn't it pro- 
 vokin' ? I might have seen him some weeks 
 agone, if I hadn't bin stunned with a fall jist as he 
 come jumpin' into the middle o' us like a clap o' 
 thunder " 
 
 "What, lad/' interrupted Dick, "was it you 
 that I " 
 
 Just at this moment Dick was seized with a 
 very violent fit of coughing, which, coming as it 
 did from such a capacious chest and so powerful 
 a pair of lungs, caused the roof of the cavern to 
 reverberate with what might have been mistaken, 
 outside, for a species of miniature artillery. 
 
 " You've caught cold," suggested March, who 
 gazed in unspeakable admiration at the magnifi- 
 cent locks and beard of this remarkable man, as 
 they shook with the violence of his exertion. 
 
 " I never had a cold," replied Dick, becoming 
 quiet again; "there's other things as cause a 
 man for to cough, now and agin', besides colds." 
 
 " True," rejoined March ; " but you were 
 sayin' somethin* do you know of the fight I was 
 speakin'of?" 
 
 " Know of it ay, that do I." 
 
 " Why, how did you happen to hear of it ? " 
 
 " It's wonderful, lad, how I comes to know 
 about things in this part o' the countiy. I know 
 everything the Wild Man does. He can't move 
 
DICK PUZZLES MARCH. 275 
 
 without my bein' on his track directly. In fact, 
 I follers him like his shadow. Leastwise, his 
 shadow follers me." 
 
 " Indeed," exclaimed March, whose interest 
 in Dick became suddenly tenfold more deep on 
 learning this. " But why do you follow him about 
 in this fashion ? Does he like your company, or do 
 you only follow him on the sly, and keep out of 
 sight ? Explain yourself, Dick you puzzle me." 
 
 " I can't explain just now, lad," said Dick, 
 rising abruptly. "You forget that your com- 
 rades may be in a fix before now wi' them black- 
 guard redskins. I must go an 3 help them. It's 
 but right that white men should lend one another 
 a helpin' hand in these regions, where the Injuns 
 have it almost all their own way." 
 
 " But the Mountain Fort is far away from this, 
 an' I'm afraid you'll never be able to get there in 
 time," said March, with an anxious expression of 
 countenance. 
 
 " I'll try," returned Dick. "Anyhow, I'll send 
 the Wild Man o' the West to help them," he 
 added, with a peculiar smile. " Now, boy, listen, 
 I must not waste more time in idle talk. I shall 
 leave you here under the charge of my little 
 
 girl- " 
 
 " Your little girl ! " echoed March in surprise. 
 
 ' ' Ay, she ought to have been in before now," 
 continued Dick, without noticing the interruption, 
 " an' I would like to ha' told her who ye are, and 
 T 2 
 
276 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 how I come by ye, an' what to do till I come 
 back. But I can't wait; time's precious as gold 
 just now ; so I'll tell ye what to say to her when 
 she " 
 
 At that moment a light footstep was heard in 
 the outer cavern. The Wild Man sprang up on 
 hearing it, and strode hastily through the natural 
 doorway, leaving March to listen, in a state of the 
 utmost bewilderment, to a silvery musical voice, 
 which held rapid converse with his strange host. 
 
 Presently Dick returned, followed by a vision 
 in leather! the sight of which struck March 
 Marston dumb, and rendered him for a few 
 moments as totally incapable of moving hand, 
 tongue, or foot, as if he had been bewitched 
 which, in a sense, he was. 
 
 " This is the little girl I spoke of t'ye/' said 
 Dick, looking at March, and patting the girl on 
 her soft cheek, with a hand that might have 
 passed for a small shoulder of mutton. " She'll 
 take good care of ye, March. I've told her what 
 to do; but she don't need to be told. Now, see 
 ye don't do yerself a mischief, lad, till I come 
 back. It won't be long a day or two, mayhap, 
 more or less ; but ye'll take that time to mend ; 
 you're worse battered than ye think of so, good 
 day." 
 
 While the Wild Man was ejaculating these sen- 
 tences abruptly, he was striding about the cave 
 with what may be styled enormous vigour, picking 
 
DICK GOES TO THE MOUNTAIN FORT. 277 
 
 up and buckling on his weapons of war. He 
 seized a double-edged sword of gigantic propor- 
 tions, and buckled it to his waist, but March saw 
 it not. He pulled on the scalp-fringed coat of a 
 Blackfoot chief, with leggings to match, but March 
 knew it not. He slung a powder-horn and bul- 
 let-pouch round his shoulders, stuck a knife and 
 tomahawk into his belt, and grasped a long rifle 
 which stood in a corner; and, in doing all this, he 
 made such a tremendous clatter, and displayed 
 such wonderful activity, and grew so much fiercer 
 to look at in every stage of the process, that 
 March would certainly have recurred to the idea 
 of the Wild Man, had he been in his ordinary 
 state of mind ; but he was not in that happy con- 
 dition. March knew nothing about it whatever ! 
 
 Before going, Dick stooped and kissed the 
 " vision " on the cheek. March saw that ! It 
 recalled him for a moment and made him aware 
 of the disappearance of his host, and of the loud 
 clattering sounds of his charger's hoofs, as he led 
 him, at a rapid walk, across the outer cave. 
 March even heard the general clatter of all his 
 accoutrements, as he vaulted into the saddle at 
 one bound, and went down that terrible rocky 
 way at a breakneck gallop that would have caused 
 him (March), in other circumstances, to shudder. 
 But he did not shudder. He was but faintly 
 aware of these things. His intellect was over- 
 turned ; his whole soul was captivated ; his 
 
278 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 imagination, his perceptions, his conceptions 
 all his faculties and capacities were utterly over- 
 whelmed and absorbed by that wonderful vision 
 in leather ! 
 
ON VISIONS. 279 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The Vision in Leather. 
 
 IT is all very well for men of the world, men of 
 fashion, men who pride themselves on being highly 
 civilized and peculiarly refined, to fancy that there 
 are no other visions in this world than " visions 
 in silk," " visions in white," and the like. Those 
 who think thus labour under an egregious, though 
 a civilized, mistake. 
 
 Happily there are kind, loving, pretty faces in 
 this world, the possessors of which know nothing 
 about pink gauze or white muslin. Faces that 
 have never felt the hot air of a drawing-room, 
 but are much used to present themselves, un- 
 veiled, to the fresh breezes of the prairie and the 
 mountain ; faces that possess the rare quality of 
 universal attraction, and that cause men to fancy, 
 when they see them for the first time, that they 
 have beheld a vision ! 
 
 The fact is that some faces are visions, whether 
 the forms that support them appear to us in 
 muslin or in deer- skin. The only requisite need- 
 ful to constitute a face a vision to any particular 
 person, is that it should have in it that peculiar 
 something which everybody wants, but which 
 
280 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 nobody can define; which is ineffably charming, 
 though utterly incomprehensible; and which, 
 when once seen by any one, constitutes the coun- 
 tenance that possesses it a vision evermore ! 
 
 It is quite immaterial what material composes 
 the dress in which the vision appears. No doubt, 
 the first time it bursts upon the smitten victim, 
 dress may be a powerful auxiliary ; but after the 
 first time, dress goes for little or nothing. March 
 Marston's vision appeared, as we have said, in 
 leather. 
 
 After the Wild Man had vanished, March con- 
 tinued to gaze at his new companion with all 
 kinds of feelings and emotions, but without being 
 able to move or speak. The vision returned the 
 compliment, also without speaking or taking any 
 further notice of him. 
 
 She was a wonderful creature, that vision in 
 leather ! That she was of Indian extraction was 
 evident from the hue of her skin, yet she was not 
 nearly so dark as the lightest complexioned 
 Indian. In fact her clear soft forehead was whiter 
 than those of many so-called pale-faces ; but her 
 ruddy checks, her light-brown hair, and, above all, 
 her bright brown eye showed that white blood ran 
 in her veins. She was what men term a half-caste. 
 She was young, almost girlish in her figure and 
 deportment ; but the earnest gravity of her pretty 
 face caused her to appear older than she really 
 was. March, unconsciously and without an effort., 
 
281 
 
 guessed her to be sixteen. He was wrong. She 
 had only seen fifteen summers. 
 
 Her dress was a beautifully- dressed deer-skin 
 gown, reaching below the knees, as soft as chamois 
 leather, and ornamented with beads and quill- 
 work. It was girded round her small waist by 
 a leather belt, from which depended a small hunt- 
 ing-knife. A pair of ornamented leggings of the 
 same material as the gown covered her limbs, and 
 moccassins her feet, which latter, as well as her 
 hands, were small and beautifully formed. Over 
 her shoulders were slung the masculine ap- 
 pendages of a powder-horn and bullet-pouch, 
 proving that this creature was, so to speak, a 
 Dianic vision. 
 
 Her staring so hard and so long at March 
 without speaking or smiling, or taking any more 
 notice of him than if he had been an effigy on a 
 tombstone, seemed unaccountable to that youth. 
 Had he been able to look at himself from her 
 point of view he would not have been so much 
 surprised. 
 
 In his late accident he had received so severe a 
 blow on the left eye that that orb was altogether 
 shut up. As he did not move, and as the other 
 eye, with which he gazed in supreme astonish- 
 ment at the sweet face before him, happened to 
 be farthest from the fire, besides being hid in the 
 shadow of his own nose, which was not a small 
 one by nature, and was a peculiarly large one by 
 
282 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST, 
 
 force of recent circumstances, the vision very 
 naturally thought that he was fast asleep. As 
 she stood there gazing wonderingly and some- 
 what sadly at the poor youth, with the red nicker- 
 ing flame of the fire lighting up her yellow gar- 
 ments, deepening the red on her round cheeks, 
 glinting on the loose masses of her rich tresses, 
 and sparkling in the depths of her bright brown 
 eyes, March thought he had never in all his life 
 before beheld such an exquisite creature. 
 
 Supposing that he was asleep, the vision sat 
 down quietly on a log beside the fire, still keep- 
 ing her eyes, however, fixed on her guest. The 
 action took her out of " the direct line of fire " 
 of March's sound eye, therefore he turned his 
 head abruptly, and so brought his staring orb into 
 the light of the fire and revealed the fact that he 
 was wide awake; whereupon the vision uttered 
 an exclamation of surprise, rose hastily, and went 
 to his side. 
 
 " You is woke," she said. " Me tink you was 
 be sleep." 
 
 " Asleep ! " cried March with enthusiasm, 
 ' ' no, I wasn't asleep. More than that, Pll never 
 go to sleep any more." 
 
 This bold assertion naturally filled the vision 
 with surprise. 
 
 " Why for not ? " she asked, sitting down on a 
 log beside March in such a position that she could 
 see him easily. 
 
MARCH AND MARY. 283 
 
 " For thinkin' o' you ! " replied the bold youth, 
 firmly. 
 
 The vision looked at him in still greater asto- 
 nishment, opening her eyes slowly until they 
 seemed like two pellucid lakelets of unfathom- 
 able depth into which March felt inclined to 
 fling himself, clothes and all, and be drowned 
 comfortably. She then looked at the fire, then 
 at March again. It was evident that she had 
 not been accustomed to hold intercourse with 
 jocular minds. Perceiving this, March at once 
 changed his tone, and, with a feeling of respect 
 which he could not well account for, said, rather 
 bluntly 
 
 "What's your name?" 
 
 "Mary." 
 
 ' ' Ay ! did your father give you that name ? " 
 
 "My father?" echoed the girl, looking hastily 
 up. 
 
 "Ay, did Dick give it you?" 
 
 "Did him tell you him's name be Dick?" 
 asked Mary. 
 
 " Oh ! he's known by another name to you, 
 then, it would seem. But, Mary, what is his 
 name." 
 
 The girl pursed her mouth and laid her finger 
 on it. Then, with a little sad smile, said 
 
 " Him tell you Dick that be good name. But 
 Dick not my father. My father dead." 
 
 The poor thing said this so slowly and in such 
 
284 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 a low pathetic tone that March felt sorry for 
 having unwittingly touched a tender chord. He 
 hastened to change the subject by saying 
 
 "Is Dick kind to you, Mary?" 
 
 " Kind," she cried, looking up with a flashing 
 eye and flushed face, while with one of her little 
 hands she tossed back her luxuriant tresses 
 " Kind ! Him be my father now. No have got 
 nobody to love me now but him." 
 
 ' ' Yes, you have, Mary," said March, stoutly. 
 
 Mary looked at him in surprise, and said, 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Me!" replied March. 
 
 Mary said nothing to this. It was quite clear 
 that the Wild Man must have neglected her edu- 
 cation sadly. She did not even smile ; she merely 
 shook her head and gazed abstractedly at the 
 embers of the fire. 
 
 "Dick is not your father, Mary," continued 
 March, energetically, "but he has become your 
 father. I am not your brother, but I'll become 
 your brother if you'll let me." 
 
 March in his enthusiasm tried to raise himself; 
 consequently he fell back and drowned Mary's 
 answer in a groan of anguish. But he was not 
 to be baulked. 
 
 "What said you?" he inquired, after a mo- 
 ment's pause. 
 
 "Me say you be very good." 
 
 She said this so calmly that March felt severely 
 
MARCH TRIES TO SLEEP. 285 
 
 disappointed. In the height of his enthusiasm lie 
 forgot that the poor girl had as yet seen nothing 
 to draw out her feelings towards him as his had 
 been drawn out towards her. She had seen no 
 " vision," except, indeed, the vision of a wretched 
 dishevelled youth, of an ahrupt excitable tempera- 
 ment, with one side of his countenance scratched 
 in a most disreputable manner, and the other 
 side swelled and mottled to such an extent that 
 it resembled a cheap plum-pudding with the fruit 
 unequally and sparsely distributed over its yellow 
 surface. 
 
 March was mollified, however, when the girl 
 suggested that his pillow seemed uncomfortable, 
 and rose to adjust it with tender care. Then she 
 said "Now me bring blankit. You go sleep. 
 Me sit here till you sleep, after that, me go away. 
 If ye wants me, holler out. Me sleep in nixt 
 room." 
 
 So saying, this wonderful creature flitted across 
 the cavern and vanished, thereby revealing to 
 March the fact that there was a third cavern in 
 that place. Presently she returned with a green 
 blanket, and spread it over him, after which she 
 sat down by the fire and seemed absorbed in her 
 private meditations while March tried to sleep. 
 
 But what a night March had of it ! Whichever 
 way he turned, that vision was ever before his 
 eyes. When he awoke with a start, there she 
 was, bending over the fire. When he dreamed, 
 
286 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 there she was, floating in an atmosphere of blue 
 stars. Sometimes she was smiling on him, some- 
 times gazing sadly, but never otherwise than 
 sweetly. Presently he saw her sitting on Dick's 
 knee, twisting his great moustache with her deli- 
 cate hand, and he was about to ask Dick how he 
 had managed to get back so soon, when he (the 
 Wild Man) suddenly changed into March's own 
 mother, who clasped the vision fervently to her 
 breast and called her her own darling son ! 
 There was no end to it. She never left him. 
 Sometimes she appeared in curious forms and 
 in odd aspects though always pleasant and 
 sweet to look upon. Sometimes she was dancing 
 gracefully like an embodied zephyr on the floor ; 
 frequently walking in mid-air; occasionally per- 
 ambulating the ceiling of the cave. She often 
 changed her place, but she never went away. 
 There was no escape. And March was glad of 
 it. He didn't want to escape. He was only too 
 happy to court the phantom. But it did not 
 require courting. It hovered over him, walked 
 round him, sat beside him, beckoned to him, and 
 
 smiled at him. Never, no, never since the 
 
 world began was any scratched and battered 
 youth so thoroughly badgered and bewitched, as 
 was poor March Marston on that memorable 
 night, by that naughty vision in leather ! 
 
MARCH'S WAKING RECOLLECTIONS. 287 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The Cave of the Wild Man of the West March and Mary 
 hold Pleasant Intercourse Dick's Good Qualities en- 
 larged on The Wild Man gives a Itedskin a Strange 
 Lesson A Startling Interruption to Pleasant Converse. 
 
 WHEN March Marston awoke the following morn- 
 ing, and found himself lying on a low couch in 
 the mysterious cavern of the Wild Man of the 
 West, he experienced the curious sensation, with 
 which every one is more or less familiar, of not 
 knowing where he was. 
 
 The vision in leather, which had worried him 
 to such an extent during the night, had left him 
 in peace as most visions usually do an hour or 
 so before day-break, and as the real vision had 
 not yet issued from the inner chamber of the 
 cave, there was nothing familiar near him, when 
 he awoke, to recall his scattered senses. His first 
 effort to rise, however, quickened his memory 
 amazingly. Pains shot through all his limbs; 
 the chase, the fall, Dick, the cavern, recurred to 
 him; and last but not least, for it obliterated 
 and swallowed up all the rest the vision broke 
 upon his beclouded brain and cleared his faculties. 
 
 Looking curiously round the cavern, he ob- 
 served for the first time what he might have 
 
288 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 observed the night before had he not been pre- 
 occupied with sudden, numerous,, and powerful 
 surprises that the walls were hung with arras 
 and trophies of the chase. Just opposite to him 
 hung the skin of an enormous grisly bear, with 
 the head and skull entire, and the mouth and 
 teeth grinning at him in an awful manner. Near 
 to this were the skin and horns of several buf- 
 faloes. In other places there were more horns, 
 and heads, and hides of bears of various kinds, 
 as well as of deer, and, conspicuous above the 
 entrance, hung the ungainly skull and ponderous 
 horns of an elk. 
 
 Mingled with these, and arranged in such a 
 manner as to prove that Dick, or the vision one 
 or other, or both were by no means destitute of 
 taste, hung various spears, and bows, and quivers, 
 and shields of Indian manufacture, with spears 
 and bows whose form seemed to indicate that 
 Dick himself was their fabricator. There was 
 much of tasteful ornament on the sheaths and 
 handles of many of these weapons. 
 
 The floor of the apartment in which he lay was 
 of solid rock, cleanly washed and swept, but there 
 was no furniture of any kind only a pile of 
 fresh-cut pine-branches, with which the place 
 was perfumed, and two or three rough logs which 
 had been used as seats the night before by the 
 host and hostess of this to March enchanted 
 castle. 
 
MARCH MARSTON IN THE CAVE. 289 
 
 March was staring earnestly at one of these 
 logs which lay close to the ashes of the fire, 
 trying to recall the form that had last occupied it, 
 when a rustle at the inner passage attracted his 
 attention, and next moment the vision again 
 stood before him. It was, if possible, more in- 
 nocent, and young, and sweet, than on the previ- 
 ous night. 
 
 "Good mornin'. You very good sleep, me 
 hope?" 
 
 " Ay, that had I, a capital sleep," cried March, 
 heartily, holding out his hand which the vision 
 grasped unhesitatingly, and shook with manly 
 vigour. 
 
 " Bees you hongray ?" 
 
 "No, not a bit," said March. 
 
 The girl looked sad at this. " You muss heat," 
 she said, quickly, at the same time raking to- 
 gether the embers of the fire, and blowing them 
 up into a flame, over which she placed a large 
 iron pot ; " Dick hims always heat well an' keep 
 well. Once me was be sick. Dick him say to 
 me, 'Heat/ Me say, f No want heat/ Hims 
 say, ' You muss heat/ So me try ; an', sure 'nuff, 
 get well to-morrow." 
 
 March laughed at this prompt and effectual 
 remedy for disease, and said, "Well, Pll try. 
 Perhaps it will cure me, especially if you feed 
 me." 
 
 Poor March saw, by the simplicity of his com- 
 u 
 
290 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 panion's looks, that gallantry and compliments 
 were alike thrown away on her; so he resolved 
 to try them no more. Having come to this con- 
 clusion, he said, 
 
 "I say, Mary, come and sit by me while I talk 
 with you. I want to know how you came to be 
 in this wild, out-o'-the-way place, and who Dick 
 is, and what brought him here, an', in short, all 
 about it." 
 
 The girl drew her log near as he desired, but 
 said, "What Dick no tell, me no tell." 
 
 "But, surely," urged March, in a somewhat 
 testy tone, " you may tell me something about ye." 
 
 Mary shook her head. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Dick say f No tell.'" 
 
 " Oh ! Dick's an ass ! " 
 
 Had Mary known the meaning of her com- 
 panion's rude speech, she might possibly have 
 surprised him with a decided opinion in regard to 
 himself. But, never having heard of nor seen 
 such a creature in all her life, she only looked up 
 with a quiet expression of curiosity, and said, 
 
 "What bees an ass?" 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ho ! ho ! a " roared our hero, 
 
 with a mingled feeling of exasperation and savage 
 glee " an ass? Why, it's a lovely slender crea- 
 ture, with short pretty ears and taper limbs, and 
 a sleek, glossy coat, like like me, Mary, dear ; 
 why, I'm an ass myself. Pray, do get me some- 
 
MARCH MARSTON AND MARY. 291 
 
 thin' to eat. I really believe my appetite's cornin' 
 back agin." 
 
 Mary looked at March in much concern. She 
 had once nursed the Wild Man through a severe 
 illness, and knew what delirium was, and she 
 began to suspect that her guest was beginning to 
 give way. 
 
 " Now, lie down/' she said, with an air of 
 decision that was almost ludicrous in one so 
 youthful. Yet March felt that he must obey. 
 "Me will git meat ready. You sleep littil bit." 
 
 March shut his eyes at once ; but, the instant 
 that Mary turned to attend to the iron kettle, he 
 opened them, and continued to gaze at the busy 
 little housewife, until she chanced to look in his 
 direction, when he shut them again quickly, and 
 very tight. This was done twice ; but the third 
 time Mary caught him in the act, and broke into 
 a merry laugh. It was the first time she had 
 laughed aloud since March met her; so he 
 laughed too, out of sheer delight and sympathy. 
 
 When March had finished breakfast, he tried 
 to get up, and found, to his great relief and satis- 
 faction, that no bones were broken a fact of 
 which he had stood in considerable doubt and 
 that his muscles were less acutely pained than 
 they had been. Still, he was very stiff, and quite 
 unable, with any degree of comfort, to walk across 
 the cave ; so he made up his mind to lie there till 
 he got well, a resolution which, in the pride of 
 u 2 
 
292 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 his heart, he deemed exceedingly virtuous and 
 praiseworthy, forgetting, either deliberately or 
 stupidly, that the presence of Mary rendered that 
 otherwise dull cavern the most delightful of sick 
 chambers, and that her attendance was ample 
 compensation and reward for any amount of pain 
 or self-denial. 
 
 " Mary," he said, when she had cleared away 
 the debris of the morning meal, " sit down here, 
 and tell me a few things. You're so terribly 
 close that one doesn't know what he may ask an' 
 what he mayn't. But if you don't like to speak, 
 you can hold your tongue, you know. Now, tell 
 me, how old are you ? " 
 
 " Fifteen," replied Mary. 
 
 ' * Ay ! I thought ye'd been older. How long 
 have ye bin with Dick ? " 
 
 " In cave here ten year. Before that, me live 
 in my father's wigwam." 
 
 "Was yer father a trapper?" inquired March 
 tenderly. 
 
 Mary's face at once assumed an expression of 
 earnest gravity, and she answered, " Yes," in a 
 low, sad tone. 
 
 March was going to have inquired further on 
 this point, but fear lest he should hurt the feel- 
 ings of the poor child induced him to change the 
 subject. 
 
 " And how came ye," said he, " first to meet 
 with Dick ? " 
 
Mary and March Marstoii in the Cave. ? 
 
293 
 
 Mary pressed her lips. 
 
 " Oh ! very well ; don't tell if it ain't right, by 
 no manner o' means. Do ye think that Dick 
 intends to keep ye here always ? " 
 
 "Me not know." 
 
 " Humph ! An' you say he's good to ye ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," cried Mary, with a sudden blaze of 
 animation on her usually placid countenance, 
 "him's good, very good gooder to me than 
 nobody else." 
 
 " Well, I could have guessed that, seem' that 
 nobody else has had anything to do with ye but 
 him for ten years past." 
 
 "But him's not only good to me good to 
 everybody," continued the girl, with increasing 
 animation. "You not know how good can't 
 know." 
 
 " Certainly not," assented March ; " it ain't pos- 
 sible to know, not havin' bin told ; but if you'll 
 tell me I'll listen." 
 
 March Marston had at last struck a chord that 
 vibrated intensely in the bosom of the warm- 
 hearted child. She drew her log closer to him 
 in her eagerness to dilate on the goodness of her 
 adopted father, and began to pour into his willing 
 ears such revelations of the kind and noble deeds 
 that he had done, that March was fired with enthu- 
 siasm, and began to regard his friend Dick in the 
 light of a demigod. Greatheart, in the " Pilgrim's 
 Progress," seemed most like to him, he thought, 
 
294 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 only Dick seemed grander, which was a natural 
 feeling ; for Bunyan drew his Greatheart true to 
 nature, while Mary and March had invested Dick 
 with a robe of romance, which glittered so much 
 that he looked preternaturally huge. 
 
 March listened with rapt attention ; but as the 
 reader is not March, we will not give the narrative 
 in Mary's bad English. Suffice it to say, that she 
 told how, on one occasion, Dick happened to be 
 out hunting near to a river, into which he saw a 
 little Indian child fall. It was carried swiftly by 
 the current to a cataract fifty feet high, and in rf 
 few minutes would have been over and dashed to 
 pieces, when Dick happily saw it, and plunging in, 
 brought it safe to shore, yet with such difficulty, 
 that he barely gained the bank and grasped the 
 branch of an overhanging willow, when his legs 
 were drawn over the edge of the fall. He had to 
 hold on for ten minutes, till men came from the 
 other side of the stream to his assistance. 
 
 Mary also told him (and it was evening ere she 
 finished all she had to tell him) how that, on 
 another occasion, Dick was out after grislies 
 with a hunter who had somehow allowed himself 
 to be caught by a bear, and would have been 
 torn in pieces had not Dick come up with his 
 great two-edged sword having fired off his rifle 
 without effect and, with one mighty sweep at 
 the monster's neck, cut right through its jugular 
 vein, and all its other veins, down to the very 
 
295 
 
 marrow of its back-bone ; in fact, killed it at one 
 blow a feat which no one had ever done, or had 
 ever heard of as being done, from the days of the 
 first Indian to that hour. 
 
 Many such stories did Mary relate to the poor 
 invalid, who bore his sufferings with exemplary 
 patience and fortitude, and listened with un- 
 flagging interest ; but of all the stories she told, 
 none seemed to afford her so much pleasure in 
 the telling as the following : 
 
 One day Dick went out to hunt buffaloes, on 
 his big horse, for he had several steeds, one or 
 other of which he rode according to fancy ; but he 
 always mounted the big black one when he went 
 after the buffalo or to war. Mary here explained 
 very carefully, that Dick never went to war on 
 his own account, that he was really a man of 
 peace, but that, when he saw oppression and 
 cruelty, his blood boiled within him at such a 
 rate that he almost went mad, and often, under 
 the excitement of hot indignation, would he dash 
 into the midst of a band of savages and scatter 
 them right and left, like autumn leaves. 
 
 Well, as he was riding along among the moun- 
 tains, near the banks of a broad stream, and not 
 far from the edge of the great prairie, he came 
 suddenly on an object that caused his eyes to 
 glare and his teeth to grind ; for there, under the 
 shade of a few branches, with a pot of water by 
 her side, sat an old Indian woman. Dick did 
 
296 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 not need to ask what she was doing there. He 
 knew the ways of the redskins too well to re- 
 main a moment in doubt. She had grown so old 
 and feeble that her relations had found her bur- 
 densome ; so, according to custom, they left her 
 there to die. The poor old creature knew that 
 she was a burden to them. She knew also the 
 customs of her tribe it was at her own request 
 she had been left there, a willing victim to an 
 inevitable fate, because she felt that her beloved 
 children would get on better without her. They 
 made no objection. Food, to last for a few days, 
 was put within reach of her trembling hand ; a 
 fire was kindled, and a little pile of wood placed 
 beside it, also within reach. Then they left her. 
 They knew that when that food was consumed, 
 and the last stick placed upon the fire, the 
 shrunken limbs would stand in need of no 
 warmth, the old heart would be still. Yet that 
 heart had once beat joyfully at the sound of 
 those pattering feet that now retired with heavy 
 ruthless tread for ever. What a commentary on 
 savage life ! What a contrast between the 
 promptings of the unregeneratc heart of man 
 and the precepts of that blessed thrice blessed 
 Gospel of Jesus Christ, where love, unalterable, 
 unextinguishable, glows in every lesson and 
 sweetens every command. 
 
 When Dick came upon her, suddenly, as we 
 
DICK AND THE OLD INDIAN WOMAN'. 297 
 
 have said, he was not ten paces distant from the 
 spot where she sat ; but she was apparently deaf 
 and blind, for she evinced no knowledge of his 
 presence. She was reaching out her skinny arm 
 to place another stick upon the sinking fire at 
 the time, for it was a sharp and cold, though a 
 bright and sunny autumn day. Dick stopped 
 his horse, crushed his teeth together, and sat for 
 a few moments regarding her intently. 
 
 Either the firewood had originally been placed 
 too far away from the old woman's hand, or she 
 had shifted her position, for she could not reach 
 it. Once and again she made the effort she 
 stretched out her withered arm and succeeded in 
 just touching the end of one of the pieces of wood, 
 but could not grasp it. She pawed it once or 
 twice, and then gave up the attempt with a little 
 sigh. Drawing herself slowly together, she ga- 
 thered up the rabbit-skin blanket which rested on 
 her shoulders and attempted feebly to fold it 
 across her chest. Then she slowly drooped her 
 white head, with an expression of calm resig- 
 nation on her old wrinkled visage. 
 
 Dick's great heart almost burst with conflicting 
 emotions. The wrath that welled up as he thought 
 of the deserters was met by a gush of tender pity 
 as he gazed through blinding tears on the de- 
 serted. With a fling that caused his stout war- 
 horse to stagger, he leapt to the ground, tore open 
 
298 THE WILD MAN OP THE WEST. 
 
 the breast of his hunting-shirt, and, sitting down 
 beside the old woman, placed her cold hand in 
 his bosom. 
 
 She uttered a feeble cry and made a slight 
 momentary effort to resist ; but Dick's act, though 
 promptly, was, nevertheless, tenderly done, and 
 the big hand that stroked her white head was 
 so evidently that of a friend, that the poor 
 creature resigned herself to the enjoyment of that 
 warmth of which she stood so much in need. 
 Meanwhile Dick, without shifting his position, 
 stretched forth his long arm, collected all 
 the wood within reach, and placed it on the 
 fire. 
 
 After a few minutes the old woman raised her 
 head, and looking earnestly in Dick's face with 
 her bleared and almost sightless eyes, said, in the 
 Indian language, with which her companion was 
 well acquainted, 
 
 " My son, have you come back to me ? " 
 
 A gush of indignant feeling had again to be 
 violently stifled ere Dick could answer in moderate 
 tones, 
 
 " No, mother, he's not come back ; but I'll be 
 a son to ye. See, sit up an' warm yerself at the 
 blaze. I'll get ye some meat and sticks." 
 
 In hot haste, and with desperate activity, for 
 he had no other way of relieving his feelings, 
 Dick cut down a quantity of firewood and placed 
 it close to the hand of the old woman. Then he 
 
DICK AND THE OLD INDIAN WOMAN. 299 
 
 untied the tin kettle which he always carried at 
 his saddle-bow, and, with a piece of dried venison, 
 concocted a quantity of hot soup in a marvel- 
 lously short space of time. This done, he sat 
 down beside the old woman and made her partake 
 of it. 
 
 "Is it long since they left ye, mother?" he 
 said, after she had swallowed a little. 
 
 The old woman pondered for a few seconds. 
 
 " No," she said, " not long. Only one sun 
 has gone down since my son left me." Then 
 she added, in a sad tone, "I loved him. He is 
 a great warrior a brave chief and he loved me, 
 too. But he had to leave me. I am old and 
 useless. It is my fate." 
 
 "Describe your son to me," said Dick, 
 abruptly. 
 
 "He is tall and straight as the poplar," began 
 the old creature, while a look of pride played 
 for a moment on her withered countenance. " His 
 shoulders are broad and his limbs are supple. He 
 can run and leap like the deer, but not so well as 
 he once could. Grey hairs are now mingling with 
 the black " 
 
 " Has he any mark by which I could find 
 him out ? " interrupted Dick, impatiently. 
 
 " He has a deep cut over the right eye," re- 
 turned the woman; "but stay," she added, in 
 some alarm, "you would not harm my son, you 
 are not an enemy ? " 
 
300 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 "No, I would not; I would do him good. 
 Which way did they go ? " 
 
 " To the prairie to the rising sun." 
 
 Dick at once arose, placed the kettle of soup 
 close to the old woman's side, and, unbuckling 
 his saddle-girth, removed the blanket that 
 covered his saddle, and transferred it to her 
 shoulders. 
 
 This done, without uttering another word, he 
 vaulted into his saddle, and dashed away as if he 
 were flying for his life. The old woman listened 
 until the clatter of his horse's hoofs ceased to 
 beat upon her deadened ear, and then bent her 
 head, as at the first, in calm resignation. Doubt- 
 less she fancied that another fellow-creature had 
 forsaken her, and that the end would soon come. 
 
 But Dick had not forsaken her. He bounded 
 along over the rugged ground on the mettlesome 
 steed, striking fire from the flinty rocks, leaping 
 creeks and rivulets, bursting through bush and 
 brake, mile after mile, until he gained the open 
 prairie, while the black coat of his charger was 
 speckled with foam. Here he drew rein, and 
 trotted hither and thither in search of the tracks 
 of the Indians. He found them at last, and 
 dismounted to examine them, for, save to the 
 eye of a trapper or a redman, there were no 
 visible tracks on that hard turf. 
 
 Remounting, he resumed his headlong course 
 sweeping over the springy turf of the plains as if 
 
DICK DISCOVERS THE REDSKIN. 301 
 
 his liorse were a winged Pegasus,, whose energies 
 could not know exhaustion. All day he rode, 
 and as evening drew on he came in sight of the 
 tribe of Indians. 
 
 They had encamped for the night, and were 
 preparing their evening meal ; but when they 
 saw the solitary horseman on the far-off horizon, 
 the braves and old men went to the verge of the 
 camp to watch him. On he came, bounding over 
 the turf like the prong-horned antelope, turning 
 neither to the right hand nor to the left, but 
 taking everything that intercepted him in a flying 
 leap, and bearing down on the camp as an arrow 
 flies from the bow. 
 
 Although a single horseman is not usually an 
 object of terror to a band of Indians, these braves 
 soon began to evince by their looks that they did 
 not feel easy in regard to this one. As he drew 
 near they recognized him ; for Dick had on a 
 former occasion given this particular tribe a taste 
 of his prowess. Each man instantly rushed to his 
 weapons and horse ; but the horses had been 
 turned out to graze, and could not be easily 
 caught. Before they secured their weapons Dick 
 was in the midst of them. With an eagle glance 
 he singled out the chief with the cut over his right 
 eye, and rode between him and his tent. The 
 Indian, seeing that he was cut off from his 
 weapons, darted swiftly out upon the plain, and 
 made for a clump of stunted trees, hoping to find 
 
302 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 shelter until his comrades could come to his 
 rescue. But Dick was there before him, and rode 
 down upon him in such a way that he was com- 
 pelled to take to the open plain and run for 
 his life. 
 
 His pursuer allowed him to run, keeping just 
 close enough to him to force him into the par- 
 ticular course he desired him to take. But the 
 savage proved, indeed, to be what his mother had 
 styled him a brave chief. Apparently resolving 
 rather to die than to be hunted thus like a wolf, 
 he halted suddenly, turned sharp round, and, 
 crossing his arms on his bare chest, looked Dick 
 full in the face as he came up. Just as he was 
 within ten yards of him, the Indian drew his 
 knife, and hurled it at the breast of his enemy 
 with such violence that it hissed in its passage 
 through the air. Dick received it on his shield, 
 where it stood quivering. Plucking it therefrom 
 with a grim smile, he placed it in his own girdle, 
 and riding up to the Indian, sternly bade him 
 mount in front of him. 
 
 There was no refusing to obey that voice. The 
 Indian cast one uneasy glance towards his camp, 
 which was now far away on the plain, but there 
 was no sign of any one coming to the rescue. His 
 captor had got the credit of being an evil spirit, 
 and he felt that he was left to his fate. A hasty 
 repetition of the order compelled him to turn and 
 seize the mane of the horse. Dick held out his 
 
303 
 
 toe for him to step on ; the next moment he was 
 seated in front of the pale-face, galloping towards 
 the mountains. 
 
 Whatever astonishment the Indian felt at tins 
 singular treatment, or whatever his curiosity as 
 to the result of it all, his countenance expressed 
 nothing but calm scorn and defiance. He was 
 evidently working himself into that state of mind 
 which these redskin warriors endeavour to assume 
 when they are captured and taken to the stake and 
 the torture, there to prove their title to the name 
 of brave by enduring the most inconceivable 
 agonies with stoical indifference, or there to 
 bring discredit on their tribe, infamy on their 
 name, and joy to their enemies, by breaking 
 down under the infliction of tortures, at the bare 
 mention of which humanity shudders. 
 
 For some time they maintained the same head- 
 long speed. When, however, all danger of pursuit 
 was over, Dick drew rein, and proceeded more 
 leisurely, in order to relieve his now jaded steed. 
 But that was a steed of the true metal. It pos- 
 sessed that generous spirit which would have 
 induced it willingly to exert itself even to the 
 death. Its owner might have ridden it till it fell 
 prostrate and dying on the plain, but he could 
 not have ridden it to the point of refusing to 
 advance because of exhaustion. He was merciful 
 to it, and went slowly during the night; but 
 he did not come to a final halt until the risinsr 
 
304 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 sun found him close to the camp of the dying- 
 woman. 
 
 The Indian now for the first time began partly 
 to guess the object of his having been brought 
 there, and steeled his heart to bear whatever 
 might await him. 
 
 Dick dismounted, and grasping the Indian with 
 a force that showed him how helpless he would 
 be in a personal struggle should he venture to 
 attempt it, led him forward, and placed him a few 
 paces in front of his dying mother. 
 
 She was sitting just as she had been left, but 
 the fire had gone out, and she trembled violently 
 beneath the blanket which she had sought to pull 
 closer around her wasted form. Dick blamed 
 himself mentally for having put so little wood on 
 the fire, and proceeded to rekindle it ; but, before 
 doing so, he took a chain from his saddle-bow, 
 with which he fastened the Indian to a tree that 
 stood exactly opposite the spot on which the old 
 woman sat, and not ten paces distant. He bound 
 him in such a way that he could sit on the ground 
 and lean his back against the tree, but he could 
 neither stand up nor lie down. 
 
 For the first time the countenance of the 
 savage betrayed uneasiness. He believed, no 
 doubt, that he was to be left to witness the dying 
 agonies of his mother, and the thought filled him 
 with horror. To leave her, as he did, to perish, 
 had not been difficult, because he knew that he 
 
should not see the act of perishing; but to be 
 brought there and compelled to witness this 
 terrible doom acted out in all its minute and 
 horrible details on the mother whom he had 
 once loved so tenderly, was maddening to think 
 of. All the dread tortures that had yet been 
 invented and practised on warriors must have 
 seemed to him as nothing compared with this 
 awful device of the pale-face, 011 whom lie now 
 glared with the eyes of implacable hate and 
 ferocity. 
 
 " Will the pale-face/' he said, fiercely,, " cast 
 me loose, and meet me hand to hand in a fair 
 fight ? Surely," he added, changing his tone to 
 one of ineffable scorn, ' ' the pale-face is not weak, 
 he is not a small man, that he should fear a chief 
 like Bighorn." 
 
 " Hark'ee ! Bighorn," said Dick, striding up to 
 him, and laying the cold edge of his hatchet on 
 the Indian's forehead; "if you speak another 
 word above yer breath, the pale-face will cleave 
 ye to the chin." 
 
 There was something so thoroughly resolute 
 in Dick's voice that the Indian was cowed 
 effectually. 
 
 The fire was soon lighted, and Dick chafed and 
 warmed the limbs of the old woman until he 
 brought back the vital spark. Then he set on 
 the kettle to boil. While a new mess was pre- 
 paring, he went into the wood, and, with lusty 
 x 
 
306 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 blows, brought down the trees and cut them into 
 huge billets, which he piled upon the fire until it 
 roared again, and the heart of the feeble creature 
 began to beat once more with somewhat of its 
 wonted vigour. This done, he arranged a couch 
 in such a way that she might get the full benefit 
 of the heat without being scorched ; after which 
 he rubbed down his good steed and cast it loose 
 to feed. Then he cooked and ate some food, but 
 offered never a bit to the Indian, who gazed at 
 him as he performed these various actions with 
 ever-increasing amazement and anxiety. 
 
 Then Dick sat down beside the old woman, to 
 feed and tend her till she should die; and he 
 knew the signs of death too well to suppose that 
 his care would long be required. All that day, 
 and all that night, and all the next day, did the 
 trapper, the old woman, and the Indian, remain 
 in much the same position. Dick moved about a 
 little, to give the old woman food and drink as 
 she required it, and to wrap the blanket more 
 comfortably round her, for which kind deeds the 
 poor creature often tried to gaze fondly in his 
 face with her sightless eyes. 
 
 During all this time her son sat opposite, ob- 
 serving every look and motion, yet unable him- 
 self to move. The pangs of hunger now began to 
 gnaw within him, and from his cramped position, 
 he became so cold that he trembled violently in 
 every limb, despite his efforts to command him- 
 
307 
 
 self. But Dick paid no attention whatever to 
 him; he knew that he was strong, and could 
 stand it. Once the Indian implored his jailor to 
 give him some food, but Dick said, sternly, " I'll 
 give ye food before ye die, if ye keep quiet." 
 
 At last, about nightfall of the second day, the 
 sands of life began to run slowly. Dick saw that 
 the old woman's end was approaching, so he rose, 
 and, going towards her son, he placed food before 
 him. He devoured it ravenously. Then he gave 
 him drink, and, loosing him, led him to the fire, 
 where he speedily recovered his wonted heat and 
 energy. After that, Dick led him to his mother's 
 side and made him kneel. 
 
 " Mother/' said Dick, " can you see and hear 
 me?" 
 
 " Ay ; but you are not my son," said the dying 
 woman, faintly. " You are a pale-face you are 
 very good but you are not my son." 
 
 " True, mother ; but see, I have brought your 
 son back to you ! Lay your hand on her fore- 
 head/' he added, in that low, stern undertone 
 which he had used throughout to Bighorn, who 
 could not but obey, ' c stroke her head, look in 
 her eyes, and speak to her." 
 
 The redman did not require to be told now. 
 
 A natural impulse led him to do as he was bid. 
 
 The instant the tones of his voice struck her ear, 
 
 the old woman seemed to awaken with a start; 
 
 x 2 
 
308 THE "WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 she looked up eagerly, caught the hand that 
 touched her forehead, and, passing her own thin 
 hand up to the Indian's face, felt the scar over 
 his eye, as if to render herself doubly sure. Then 
 she grasped the hand again in both of hers, and, 
 taking it under the blanket, pressed it to her 
 withered breast and held it tightly there. 
 
 But that burst of unexpected joy hastened the 
 falling of the last few grains of sand. For ten 
 minutes longer they watched her as the breath 
 went and came more and more feebly. Then it 
 ceased altogether, and death sealed her eyes. But 
 she did not release the hand of her son. He had 
 some difficulty in loosening that clasp of maternal 
 love which was stronger even than death. 
 
 After all was over, Dick seized the Indian and 
 led him to the tree, to which he chained him 
 again. Then he dug a grave in the soft soil, in 
 which he placed the body of the old woman with 
 gentle care. Having covered it over he went 
 into the woods, caught and saddled his horse, and 
 led him towards the wondering savage, whom he 
 once more unbound and set free. 
 
 " Bighorn," said Dick, impressively, " you've 
 been made to comfort and gladden the heart o' 
 yer old mother in her last moments. If ye was a 
 pale-face, ye'd thank the Great Spirit for that to 
 the last day o' yer life. If ye ever do come to 
 think like the pale-faces, you'll remember that 
 you've to thank me for bringing ye here. Go, 
 
MARY AND THE SECRET. 309 
 
 tell the redskins who it is that caught ye, and 
 what he did and said to ye." 
 
 Saying this, Dick mounted his horse and rode 
 very slowly into the forest, leaving the redman 
 standing by the side of his mother's grave. 
 
 After Mary had concluded this story, which, we 
 may remark, she related with much fewer com- 
 ments than we have seen fit to pass upon it, she 
 and March looked at each other for a long time 
 in silence. Then March suddenly exclaimed, 
 
 " He's a splendid fellow, Dick ! " 
 
 Mary, both by looks and words, highly ap- 
 proved of this opinion. "And yet/' said she, 
 somewhat abstractedly, " this bees the man who 
 peepils call " 
 
 Mary pursed her lips suddenly. 
 
 ' ' Call what ? " inquired March, quickly. 
 
 " Wicked, wild, bad man," replied Mary, who, 
 fortunately, could say all this with perfect truth 
 without betraying her secret. In fact, poor Mary 
 had never had a secret confided to her before, and 
 having been told by the Wild Man of the West 
 that she was on no account to reveal his real title 
 to their guest, she was in the utmost perplexity 
 lest it should slip out unawares. 
 
 "Mary," said March, who was always stum- 
 bling upon the verge of the truth in a most unac- 
 countable way, without actually getting hold of 
 it, " have you ever seen the Wild Man of the 
 West?" 
 
310 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Yes/ 5 replied the girl, with a gay smile. 
 
 " Have you ? Well now, that's odd ! How 
 much I should like to see him. To tell you the 
 truth, one of my chief reasons for coming here 
 was to see him. What like is he ?" 
 
 " Like Dick/' replied the girl, quietly. 
 
 " Like Dick ! " echoed March in surprise ; 
 " why, that's what Dick said himself, and yet, by 
 all accounts, his character must be very different 
 from that of Dick, who seems to be the kindest, 
 tenderest-hearted man that ever came to trap in 
 the Rocky Mountains/' 
 
 "What does peepil say 'bout this Wild Mans 
 of the West ? " inquired Mary. 
 
 " That he's awful fierce an' terrible cruel, an' 
 ten or fifteen feet high, I forget which, for every- 
 body gives him a different height." 
 
 Mary laughed. " Bees that all ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! They say he eats men." 
 
 Mary laughed again. 
 
 " An' women and bears raw." 
 
 Mary laughed louder and longer than ever, and 
 when she laughed she looked so ineffably sweet, 
 that March resolved to go on with the catalogue 
 of the Wild Man's virtues piece-meal, waiting 
 for the laugh between each statement, until there 
 was not another idea left in his brain for his 
 tongue to utter. But this amiable intention was 
 frustrated by the report of a gun outside, which 
 echoed and re-echoed among these savage cliffs 
 
A STRANGE OCCURRENCE. 311 
 
 like muttering thunder. It was followed by a yell 
 that caused Mary to start up with a look of horror 
 and rush out of the cave, leaving the invalid in a 
 most distressing state of uncertainty as to what 
 he should do, and in no little anxiety as to what 
 would happen next. 
 
312 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The Mysteries of the Cave explained Ingenious Devices 
 of the Wild Man March and Mary besieged The 
 Redskins proceed to make themselves at Home in the 
 Cavern. 
 
 THERE are few things in this world which are not 
 somewhat mysterious, or that cannot be, by a 
 peculiar combination of circumstances, more or 
 less invested with mystery; and we hold it to be 
 an unfair and a very paltry device on the part of 
 an author to seek to mystify his readers by keeping 
 them in unnecessary ignorance of that which is 
 in itself simple and commonplace. 
 
 Therefore, we beg leave to state that the appa- 
 rent mystery with which we concluded the last 
 chapter was not a mystery at all 1 The loud 
 report there referred to was caused by a savage 
 discharging his gun, and the cry that followed 
 was the result of that same savage opening his 
 ugly mouth and giving vent to a tremendous 
 howl. 
 
 That this was a howl of triumph was evident 
 to ears accustomed to the war-whoop of the red- 
 man. That it was destined to be succeeded by an 
 exclamation of mingled disappointment and sur- 
 
DICK AN OBJECT OF CURIOSITY. 313 
 
 prise was evident, at least to Mary, who knew 
 the mysteries of the place. 
 
 la order to make this plain without further 
 circumlocution, we may as well inform the reader 
 at once that the Wild Man of the West (perhaps 
 we should call him Dick, in deference to March 
 Marston's ignorance of his real character at this 
 time) was not only a subject of terror to the 
 Indians inhabiting this region of the earth at 
 that particular era in the world's history, but also 
 a subject of intense curiosity. Hence, for many 
 years past it had been an object of ambition, on 
 the part of the more courageous of the Indian 
 warriors, to trace this terrible creature to his 
 familiar haunts, and "beard the lion in his 
 den." 
 
 Dick soon became fully aware of this, and, not 
 being a mysterious monster or demon, but a mere 
 mortal (although, doubtless, a singularly huge 
 and eccentric one), it behoved him to frustrate 
 the amiable intentions of his savage tormentors. 
 In order to effect this, he first of all selected, as 
 we have seen, a gloomy, secluded, and almost in- 
 accessible spot among the Rocky Mountains as 
 his residence, which he made a point of quitting 
 and returning to only in the dark hours of night 
 or early morning, as far as was practicable. 
 
 Still further to bewilder the savages, against 
 whom he bore no grudge, and to avoid encounter- 
 ing \7hom was his chief desire Dick varied his 
 
314 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 costume, appearing sometimes in the dress of a 
 Blackfoot chief, or a Cree warrior; at other times 
 in the hunting-shirt and cap of a trapper. But,, 
 despite his utmost efforts, he occasionally had to 
 face and fight the redskins a necessity which 
 so exasperated his naturally fiery temper that, on 
 such occasions, he became utterly regardless of 
 his life, and rushing upon any odds with a terrific 
 roar of his deep bass voice, so different from the 
 shrill yell of the Indians would cleave his way 
 right through their ranks with his long double- 
 edged sword; then, returning to the charge with 
 increased fury, would so appal and horrify them, 
 that the usual result was a general and precipitate 
 flight. 
 
 Perhaps some readers may wonder how it was 
 possible that he could escape being killed in these 
 encounters ; but it must be remembered that in 
 those days guns were by no means so plentiful 
 among the Indians as they now are, and arrows 
 are comparatively harmless missiles. Dick always 
 wore under his leather coat, a vest of thick buffalo 
 leather, which rendered him arrow-proof in the 
 vital regions of his body, unless shot at with a 
 strong bow by a powerful arm from a short 
 distance. 
 
 This under- coat or piece of armour added a 
 little to his naturally gigantic proportions, which 
 were still farther enhanced by the flying tags and 
 scalp-locks and fringes of his dress, and the wild 
 
315 
 
 masses of his long hair. He rode, as we have else- 
 where mentioned, a magnificent charger, which 
 he had purchased in Mexico, and whose sire, no 
 doubt, had been one of those noble barbs which 
 bore the cavaliers of Spain to the conquest of the 
 New World. The mane and tail of this animal, 
 having never been cut, were of immense length, 
 and, when violently agitated, seemed to envelop 
 horse and man. Altogether, the tout ensemble of 
 Dick and his charger on any of the rencontres 
 above referred to, was sufficiently awful, and as 
 he was seldom seen near at hand, except in a 
 condition of blazing fury, there is little wonder 
 that, in the process of time, he became celebrated 
 throughout the country as the Wild Man of the 
 West. 
 
 The white trappers, too, were somewhat curious 
 to know something about this mysterious brother; 
 but he shunned them even more determinedly 
 than he did the Indians, though, of course, he 
 never fought with them, seeing that they did not 
 attempt to murder him or interfere with his 
 movements as the savages did. But there were 
 one or two bolder or more inquisitive than their 
 comrades, who dogged the Wild Man, and 
 tried to force themselves upon him. These he 
 caught and thrashed soundly, after the fashion 
 of a schoolmaster with a refractory boy, and 
 turned them adrift with a warning thenceforth 
 to mind their own business. At last the Indians 
 
316 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST 
 
 set him down as a " great medicine-man," or a 
 demon, whom it was impossible to slay ; and the 
 trappers shook their heads and touched their 
 foreheads significantly, as if to indicate that they 
 thought him mad. 
 
 Thus Dick, in course of years, freed himself in 
 a great measure from annoyance, and many good 
 and kind actions which he did both to Indians 
 and trappers, began to be circulated and exag- 
 gerated, so that he became a greater mystery 
 than ever, especially to the savages, who naturally 
 misconstrued the spirit in which he made his 
 furious attacks in self-defence, just as much as 
 they misunderstood his motives in performing 
 deeds of kindness. He was a monstrous mystery ! 
 the greatest mystery that had ever been seen or 
 heard of in the B/ocky Mountains since the be- 
 ginning of time, and, no doubt, a greater mystery 
 than will ever be heard of there again ! 
 
 Having traversed this roundabout pathway, we 
 now come to the explanation which we intended 
 to have given much earlier in this chapter. But 
 it is really wonderful, how natural it is for the 
 human mind to prose and to diverge, and how 
 very difficult it is, at any time, to come to the 
 point ! Public speakers know this well. Perhaps 
 their hearers know it better ! 
 
 Well, although Dick was thus feared, yet he 
 was not entirely unmolested. Wandering tribes 
 from distant hunting-grounds used to go there, 
 
317 
 
 and., not knowing much about the Wild Man of 
 the West, did not believe in him ; even ventured 
 to go in search of him, and, on more than one 
 occasion, almost caught him asleep in his cave. 
 Having an ingenious turn of mind, and being 
 somewhat fanciful, he devised a curious plan to 
 deceive the savages and warn him of their ap- 
 proach. 
 
 By means of an axe and a knife, he carved a 
 representation of his own head, and covered it 
 with hair by means of the tail of one of his light- 
 coloured horses, which he docked for the purpose. 
 (His steeds, by the way, occupied another cham- 
 ber of the cavern in which he dwelt.) The head 
 thus formed, he planted behind a bush that grew 
 on a ledge of rock about two yards from the bot- 
 tom of the cliff of the amphitheatre outside, and 
 directly opposite to the entrance to it. The cave, 
 it will be remembered, was on the right of that 
 entrance. Thus, the first thing the savage be- 
 held, on prowling up to the opening of the amphi- 
 theatre, was Dick's image peeping at him over 
 the bush opposite. Of course the instantaneous 
 result was the firing of a shot or the discharge of 
 an arrow, which, the Indians being excellent 
 marksmen, invariably alighted on the bridge of 
 Dick's nose, or in the centre of his forehead, or 
 in one or other of his eyes. As the head was 
 balanced on the front edge of a deep narrow hole 
 which happened to be there, it was invariably 
 
318 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 knocked into that hole by the blow, and 
 disappeared. 
 
 This was the supposed fall of the famous Wild 
 Man that caused the yell which has taken so long 
 to account for, and the discovery of nothing 
 behind that bush except a small deep hole, much 
 too small to secrete even a little man's body in, 
 was the cause of the explanation of surprise which 
 we asserted would certainly follow. 
 
 When an event of this kind happened, Dick 
 had a large blunderbuss in readiness. It was 
 loaded with a tremendous charge of small shot, 
 and a small charge of powder, for he did not 
 want to kill. His object was simply to punish 
 and to terrify. He also had in readiness a curious 
 machine which we find it rather difficult to de- 
 scribe. Every one has heard, no doubt, of the 
 wooden wheels, with wooden axles, attached to 
 the carts in some eastern countries, which groan, 
 and creak, and yell, and shriek for want of grease, 
 in a manner that is almost maddening to all but 
 native ears. Dick's invention was founded partly 
 on the principle of these eastern carts, only it was 
 worked by turning a handle, and its sounds were 
 much more excruciatingly intense. 
 
 On being startled, then, Dick was wont to seize 
 his blunderbuss, rush into the outer cave where 
 the shrieking-machine was, give the handle half a 
 dozen turns, and thus awaken, as it were, all the 
 demons of the Rocky Mountains. Dick came at 
 
DIGITS INGENIOUS PRECAUTIONS. 319 
 
 last to know exactly what state of things lie would 
 find outside. At the first burst of discord the 
 savages, however numerous, took to their heels, 
 and when Dick emerged from his cave, they were 
 always within a yard or two of the entrance to the 
 amphitheatre, every man with outstretched arms, 
 sloped forward at the acutest possible angle with 
 the ground, rushing on the wings of terror in a 
 flight of unparalleled precipitancy. 
 
 To pour the charge of small shot down into 
 the centre of the flying mass was the work of a 
 moment; to mount his unsaddled charger, and 
 dash down the steep rugged path with a clatter 
 equal to that of half a squadron of dragoons, was 
 the work of two minutes more. To pull up sud- 
 denly, when he had terrified the spirits of the 
 intruders well nigh out of their bodies, return 
 slowly to his rude domicile, re-load his blunder- 
 buss, and retire to rest with a grim smile on his 
 bearded mouth, and a lurking expression of fun 
 in his big blue eyes, as he drew his blanket over 
 him, was the usual termination of such scenes. 
 
 But this was not all. Dick, like a wise man, 
 had prepared for the worst. In the event of the 
 Indians ever getting the length of the interior of 
 his den, there were other contrivances ready for 
 them ; chief among which was a large cistern or 
 tank of water, directly over the fireplace, the 
 front of which was moveable, and could be pulled 
 down by means of a cord passing into the inner- 
 
320 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 most cave of all, namely, the third cavern which 
 we have alluded to as being Mary's dormitoiy. 
 By pulling this cord, the result instantaneous 
 and hideous would be, that a deluge of water 
 would drown the lire black out, fill the cavern 
 with hot suffocating steam and ashes, and flood 
 the floor. 
 
 How the cavern was to be defended when he 
 himself was not there, was a problem which Dick, 
 being a mere man and not a demon, had utterly 
 failed to solve. Of course, he could easily have 
 set all manner of man-traps and spring-guns, but 
 as these might have taken effect upon some poor 
 wretch who had no design upon his life, he could 
 not venture to run the risk. 
 
 On the present occasion Dick being absent, 
 March being prostrated and all but helpless, and 
 Mary being unable to turn the handle of the 
 shrieking-machine or to fire the blunderbuss, 
 which kicked like a small cannon the case of the 
 romantic pair was desperate, and their only hope 
 seemed to be that the savages would go away 
 without examining the cavern. Vain hope ! 
 
 But Dick had not left them to take their chance 
 in that way. He had warned Mary, long ago, 
 how to act in such circumstances, and she soon 
 returned to March with the news that there were 
 four Indian warriors outside, examining the bush 
 behind which the head had disappeared, and that 
 they would very soon find out the cave. 
 
MARCH AND MARY BESIEGED. 321 
 
 " That's not pleasant news, Mary," said March, 
 starting up in spite of pain and giddiness ; " you 
 seem to take it very easy ! " 
 
 (C Com, quick," said she seizing March by the 
 hand ; " com with me." 
 
 March said, mentally, that he would go with 
 her into the jaws of death, if need be; but he 
 followed up the mental speech with the audible 
 remark, that he had better take some weapon 
 with him. 
 
 ' ' No, no ; com ! Me git you spear, hatchet 
 very quick ; but, com." 
 
 So saying, she dragged, rather than conducted, 
 March to the little opening which led into her 
 dormitory. He had to stoop on entering; and 
 great was his amazement on finding himself on 
 the brink of a black yawning gulf, that seemed 
 to descend into the bowels of the earth. The 
 end of a narrow plank rested on the edge of this 
 gulf, and appeared to bridge it over, but the 
 other end of the plank, and all beyond, were lost 
 in impenetrable darkness. 
 
 fc Com after me," said Mary, passing rapidly 
 across the gulf, and disappearing absolutely like 
 a vision. 
 
 March hesitated. He tried to steady his some- 
 what giddy head, but the single word "Com" 
 issuing from darkness in a very commanding 
 tone settled the point. He staggered across, held 
 out his hands, and almost tumbled over his fair 
 
 Y 
 
322 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 guide, on reaching the other end of the plank 
 much sooner than he had expected. 
 
 "Now, wait. I will com agin," said Mary, 
 recrossing. 
 
 The view back was a very different thing from 
 the view forward. As he stood there, on the 
 brink of the yawning gulf, March could see right 
 through into the cavern he had just left, and 
 could observe everything that took place there. 
 Mary hastily loaded herself with a rifle and the 
 blunderbuss, also with powder-horn, bullet-pouch, 
 and a bag containing buffalo-tongues. With 
 these she returned quickly, and, brushing past 
 her companion, carried them farther into the 
 cave. 
 
 " Now, help me pull," she said, laying hold of 
 the end of the plank. 
 
 March obeyed ; and obedience cost him much, 
 poor fellow, for it seemed as if, in the act, he had 
 rent asunder every muscle in his right shoulder. 
 The plank being thus drawn away, an impassable 
 gulf was left between the inner and middle 
 cavern, which, even in the event of its being dis- 
 covered, presented no particular temptation to 
 induce any one to explore farther. Mary drew 
 the plank into the long natural passage which led 
 to her private apartment; and as this passage 
 turned abruptly to the right, there was no possi- 
 bility of any one on the other side of the gulf 
 being able to see into it. Indeed, a light in it 
 
THE INDIANS ENTER THE CAVE. 323 
 
 was not visible from that point of view, and their 
 voices could not be heard unless they spoke 
 loudly. 
 
 Just as the plank was withdrawn, the Indians 
 discovered the mouth of the cavern, and in a few 
 minutes the two watchers beheld a painted savage 
 peep in at the opening of the centre cave. Seeing 
 that it was empty, and observing at a glance the 
 opening into the inner cave, he drew back 
 quickly. A minute after, the four Indians darted 
 across, and got out of range of that opening 
 evidently fearing that some one was there. They 
 flitted past so quickly, yet noiselessly, that they 
 appeared more like shadows than real men. 
 
 Presently one of them stepped full in front of 
 the opening with a bow and arrow in his hand. 
 The light of the fire was strong. March saw 
 him raise the bow, and had just time to draw 
 back when an arrow whizzed past him, and was 
 broken to pieces on the rock behind his back. 
 Instantly after the echoes of the place burst forth 
 as a shot was fired in the same direction. Having 
 thus made sure that the way was clear, the boldest 
 of the savages entered with a blazing pine-knot 
 held high above his head the others following 
 with bows ready, and arrows fitted to the string. 
 
 On reaching the edge of the yawning chasm, 
 
 the foremost savage held the torch over it, and 
 
 they all gazed in silence into its unfathomable 
 
 depths. Satisfied that it was impassable, they 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 consulted for a few minutes, and then, apparently 
 coming to the conclusion that the place was 
 tmtenanted, they returned to the middle cave, 
 and began to rummage and toss about the things 
 they found there. 
 
 ee Bring the rifle," whispered March. " I can 
 floor two at a shot as they now sit." 
 
 "No," Mary replied, firmly. "Why make 
 blood ? They will go 'way soon/' 
 
 Mary was right ; but a circumstance occurred 
 which caused them to go away sooner than, either 
 she or they had anticipated. 
 
DICK'S RIDE TO THE RESCUE. 325 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A Gallop to the Rescue A Discovery Sight-about Face 
 A Disagreeable Surprise and a Sudden Ejection A Calm 
 after the Storm Mary a Huntress Dick's Story of the 
 Murdered Trapper. 
 
 WHEN Dick, alias the Wild Man of the West, 
 left his cave, as narrated in a previous chapter, 
 and galloped away with reckless speed to afford 
 the aid of his stout right arm to his friends in the 
 Mountain Fort, for he counted them friends, 
 although they little knew it, he felt that if he 
 was to be of any use he must travel over the 
 country as he had never travelled before, except 
 once, when he had to fly for his life before 500 
 Pawnee warriors. 
 
 It was a grand sight to behold that Herculean 
 backwoodsman on his noble steed, which seemed 
 so well proportioned to its rider that it carried 
 him as if he were but a boy, flying over the 
 country on this brotherly errand. Mile after 
 mile was passed, not indeed at full speed, for 
 that would have broken the good horse down 
 long before the goal was reached, but at a bowl- 
 ing gallop, taking bogs, and rocks, and fallen 
 trees, and watercourses, with an elastic bound 
 
326 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 that told of bone and muscle, overflowing with 
 surplus energy. 
 
 Dick patted the horse's arching neck with a 
 look of pride and affection, and the animal tossed 
 its head with a slight neigh of pleasure and a 
 playful snap towards its rider's right foot; for it 
 loved its master, as the lower animals do always 
 love those who treat them well, and it loved a 
 wild, long, careering gallop, for that was the only 
 means by which it could relieve its feelings. 
 
 There was something unusually wild-like about 
 this horse, besides its great size and extraordinarily 
 long mane and tail. It carried its head high and 
 its ears pointed forward, and it looked boldly from 
 side to side, as it went springingly along, more 
 like a human being than a horse. It actually 
 appeared to be taking intelligent notice of things 
 around it. So much so, that Dick had got into 
 a habit of saying a word or two now and then to 
 it, in a grave tone, as if he were conversing with 
 a friend. 
 
 "Ay, it's a fine country, isn't it?" he said, 
 patting the neck again. 
 
 The ears were pointed backwards at once, and 
 a little neigh or squeak, with a toss of the head, 
 was the reply. 
 
 " Pity ye can't speak, an't it ? " continued Dick, 
 in a low, quiet tone. 
 
 The horse appeared to know that this was 
 merely a meditative remark, not pointedly ad- 
 
DICK MAKES A SUDDEN HALT. 327 
 
 dressed to itself, for it only put back one ear 
 and kept tlie other forward. 
 
 " Now, lass," said Dick, firmly (both ears went 
 full back at that sound and remained there), 
 "take it easy; don't exert yerself over much, 
 it an't o ? no use, a short pace or two, and so." 
 
 The horse went full swing over a roaring 
 watercourse as he spoke, and alighted safe on 
 the opposite bank, but the gravelly soil was 
 treacherous ; it gave way, and the animal's hind- 
 legs slipped back. With a bound Dick sprang 
 to the ground. 
 
 "Hyp, 'good horse/ 5 he cried, raising the 
 rein. 
 
 A powerful effort, and footing was regained. 
 Dick vaulted into the saddle (he seldom used the 
 stirrup), and away they went again, blithe as ever. 
 Then a long stripe of tangled forest appeared. 
 Dick diverged here. It was easier to skirt it 
 than to crash through it. Presently a broad deep 
 river came in view. There was no looking for a 
 ford, no checking the pace. In they went with 
 sounding plunge, as if water were their native 
 element, breasted the foaming tide, and, gaining 
 the opposite bank, went steadily forward. 
 
 Thus on they sped, over hill and dale, all that 
 night, for the moon was bright in a cloudless 
 sky, and part of next day. Then Dick made a 
 sudden halt and dismounted, to examine some- 
 thing on the ground. Footprints of Indian 
 
328 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 horses four of them going in the direction of 
 his dwelling ! 
 
 Dick rose, and his strong brows were knitted, 
 and his lips firmly pressed together. For a 
 moment or two he pondered, then he told his 
 horse to follow him, and, dropping the bridle, 
 set off at a rapid walk, keeping steadily on the 
 tracks, and stooping now and then to examine 
 them when the nature of the ground rendered 
 them less discernible. Thus he retraced his 
 course for about a mile, when he stopped and 
 muttered, "No doubt o't. Them reptiles niver 
 come to these diggins but when they want to pay 
 me a visit." 
 
 As he said this he remounted his horse and sat 
 for a minute or two undecided. It was hard to 
 give up his purpose; but it was impossible to 
 leave his cavern defenceless with Mary in it, and 
 the certainty that savages were hunting it out. 
 That thought settled the matter. He shook the 
 reins, and back they flew again towards the cave, 
 at a much quicker pace than they had hitherto 
 maintained. 
 
 The result was that Dick gained the entrance 
 of his ravine just two hours later than the savages, 
 and in time to superintend, personally, the hos- 
 pitalities of his own dwelling. Riding quickly 
 up to the head of the gorge, he dismounted and 
 ascended the pathway to his cave with giant 
 strides and a beating heart, for Dick thought of 
 
THE INDIANS MAKE A SUDDEN EXIT. 329 
 
 Mary, and the words "too late" would whizz 
 about in his brain. 
 
 The Indians were still sitting round the fire 
 enjoying themselves, when March and Mary, to 
 their unutterable surprise, beheld Dick stride 
 through the low doorway of the cave, raise him- 
 self to his full height, and stand before the 
 stricken invaders, absolutely blazing with wrath. 
 His eyes, his hair, his beard, his glistening teeth, 
 seemed each individually imbued with indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 The Indians did not move they could not 
 move they simply sat and stared, and thus both 
 parties continued for a quarter of a minute. 
 
 Mary used that short time well. She knew 
 exactly what to do. Darting into her chamber, 
 she seized the end of the rope connected with the 
 tank and pulled it violently. March saw the 
 rock above the fireplace drop ! A clear, spark- 
 ling cataract sprang as if by magic from the wall ! 
 Next instant there was black darkness and yells, 
 steam, shrieks, and howls, a hissing, hurling 
 hubbub, such as no man can possibly conceive of 
 unless he has seen and heard it ! We will not, 
 therefore, even attempt a description. 
 
 The Indians rushed en masse to the doorway. 
 Death in the jaws of the Wild Man of the West 
 was infinitely preferable to being par-boiled and 
 suffocated; but the Wild Man had judiciously 
 made way for them. They gained the outer cave, 
 
330 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 and sprang down the pathway. Dick plied the 
 handle of the shrieking-machine with the second- 
 ary object in view of relieving his own feelings ! 
 The din was indescribable ! If those Indians are 
 not lunatics at this moment they must be dead, 
 for there could be no alternative in the circum- 
 stances. Certain it is, they vanished like smoke, 
 and they have never been heard of since from 
 that day to this ! 
 
 Really, dear reader, if it were not that we are 
 recounting the doings of a Wild Man, a noto- 
 riously eccentric creature, we would feel it neces- 
 sary to impress upon you that such scenes as we 
 have been describing are not characteristic of life 
 in the Rocky Mountains ; nay, more, we question 
 whether such scenes as these have ever been wit- 
 nessed or enacted in those regions at any time, with 
 the exception, of course, of the present occasion. 
 But it must be carefully borne in mind that we are 
 recounting the deeds of a " Wild Man," and, 
 although the aspect of outward things the ge- 
 neral tone and current of manners, and customs, 
 and natural phenomena may remain exactly the 
 same as heretofore, and be faithfully described 
 without exaggeration (as we maintain they are), 
 yet the acts, devices, and vagaries of such a 
 creature as a Wild Man may, indeed must neces- 
 sarily, be altogether eccentric and unparalleled. 
 We, therefore, pause here to express a hope that, 
 whatever credit you may be able to give to the 
 
MARCH EXPRESSES HIS SURPRISE. 331 
 
 reported deeds of this hero, you will not withhold 
 your belief in the fidelity of the other portions of 
 this narrative. 
 
 No sooner, then, were those unwelcome visitors 
 ejected than Dick returned to the scene of devas- 
 tation and shouted, " Hallo ! Mary ! " 
 
 " Safe, all safe," she replied, as, with the as- 
 sistance of March Marston, she pushed the plank 
 across the chasm, and returned to the centre cave. 
 
 " Is the lad March safe, too ? " inquired Dick, 
 as he busied himself in striking a light with flint 
 and steel. 
 
 " All right," answered the youth for himself, 
 " but horridly battered, an' fit to yell with pain, 
 not to mention surprise. Do look sharp and get 
 the fire up. Sich doins' as this I never did see 
 nor hear of since I left the frontier. I do declare 
 it's worthy o' the Wild Man o' the West himself. 
 What d'ye find to laugh at, Dick ? I'm sure if 
 ye had my miserable bones in yer body at this 
 moment, ye'd laugh wi' your mouth screwed the 
 wrong way. Look alive, man ! " 
 
 "Patience, lad, patience. That's one o' the 
 vartues, I believe ; leastwise so I'm told (ah, it's 
 caught at last. Hand me that dry stuff on the 
 south shelf, Mary, ye can find it i' the dark I 
 doubt not) ; yes, it's a vartue, but I can't boast o' 
 having much o't myself. I dun know much 
 about it from 'xperience, d'ye see ? There, now, 
 we'll git things put to rights," he added, apply- 
 
332 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 ing the kindled spark to some dry chips and pro- 
 ducing a flame, with which he ignited a pine knot, 
 and stuck it blazing in a cleft in the rock. " Just 
 see what them reptiles ha' done to me. If it 
 wasn't that Pm a good-tempered feller I b'lieve I'd 
 git angry. See, March, boy, there's a shelf in 
 the corner that's escaped the flood. Lie ye down 
 there while Mary and me puts the place in 
 order." 
 
 "I'd rather help you/' said March, dismally. 
 " I don't b'lieve it can make me worse, an', per- 
 haps, it'll make me better. I wonder what in the 
 world pain was made for." 
 
 " Ye'll only be in our way, lad. Lie down," 
 said Dick, seizing a large broom and beginning to 
 sweep away the water and ashes and pieces of 
 charcoal with which the floor was plentifully co- 
 vered, while Mary picked up the scattered skins 
 and furniture of the cave, and placed them on 
 the ledge of rock, about four feet from the 
 ground, which Dick termed a shelf. 
 
 This ledge ran all round the apartment, so 
 March selected a corner, and, throwing a dry 
 skin upon it, stretched himself thereon, and soon 
 found his sufferings relieved to such an extent 
 that he began to question his host as to his sud- 
 den and unlooked-for return, 
 
 " How came ye to drop in upon us in the very 
 nick o' time like that ? " he said, gazing languidly 
 at Mary, who bustled about with the activity of a 
 
kitten, or to use an expression more in keeping 
 with the surrounding circumstances a wild 
 kitten. 
 
 Dick, without checking his broom, told how 
 he had discovered the tracks of the Indians, and 
 returned at once, as has been related. 
 
 " Then," said March, looking anxiously at his 
 host, "you'll not be able to help my poor com- 
 rades and the people at the Mountain Fort." 
 
 f{ It an't poss'ble to be in two places at once 
 no how ye can fix it," returned Dick, " else I'd 
 ha' been there as well as here in the course of a 
 few hours more." 
 
 " But should we not start off at once now ? " 
 cried March, eagerly, throwing his legs off the 
 ledge and coming to a sitting position. 
 
 " You an't able," replied Dick, quietly, te and I 
 won't move till I have put things to rights here, 
 an' had a feed an' a night's rest. If it would do 
 any good, I'd start this minute. But the fight's 
 over by this time leastwise, it'll be over long afore 
 we could git there ! and if it's not to be a fight 
 at all, why nobody's none the worse, d'ye see." 
 
 " But maybe they may hold the place for a long 
 time," argued March, "air* the sudden appear- 
 ance of you and me might turn the scale in their 
 favour." 
 
 " So it might so it might. I've thought o' 
 that, and we'll start to-morrow if yer able. But 
 it would be o' no use to-night. My good horse 
 
334 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 can't run for ever, right on end without meat and 
 rest." 
 
 " Then we'll start to-morrow," cried March, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Ay, if ye can mount and ride." 
 
 "That I have no fear of; butbut" at that 
 moment March's eye encountered Mary's " but 
 what about Mary ? " 
 
 " Oh ! she'll stop here till we come back. No 
 fear o' redskins troublin' her agin for some time," 
 replied Dick, throwing down the broom and pat- 
 ting the girl's head. " Come, lass, let's have 
 some supper. Show March what a capital cook 
 ye are. I'll kindle a rousin' fire an' spread some 
 pine branches round it to sit on, for the floor 
 won't be quite dry for some time. What red 
 reptiles, to be sure ! and they was actually de- 
 vourin' my poor old bay horse. What can- 
 nibals !" 
 
 In the course of an hour the cavern had resumed 
 its former appearance of comfort. The ruddy 
 glare of the fire fell warmly on the rocky walls 
 and on the curling smoke, which found egress 
 through the hole near the roof that let in light 
 during the day. Branches were spread on the 
 floor, so as to form a thick pile near the fire, and 
 on the top of this sat the Wild Man of the West 
 with the most amiable of smiles on his large, 
 handsome countenance, and most benignant of 
 expressions beaming in his clear blue eye, as he 
 
MARY THE HUNTRESS. 335 
 
 gazed first at Mary, who sat on his right hand, 
 then at March, who sat on his left, and then at 
 the iron pot which sat or stood between his knees, 
 and into which he was about to plunge a large 
 wooden ladle. 
 
 " There's worse things than buffalo-beef-bergoo, 
 March, an't there ? Ha, ha ! my lad, tuck that 
 under yer belt, it'll put the sore bones right 
 faster than physic. Mary, my little pet lamb, 
 here's a marrow-bone ; come, yer growing an' ye 
 can't grow right if ye don't eat plenty o' meat 
 and marrow-bones ; there/' he said, placing the 
 bone in question on her pewter plate. " Ah ! 
 Mary, lass, ye've bin mixin' the victuals. Why, 
 what have we here?" 
 
 " Moose nose," replied the girl, with a look of 
 pleasure. 
 
 " I do b'lieve so it is ! why where got ye it ? 
 I han't killed a moose for three weeks an' more." 
 " Me kill him rneself," said Mary. 
 "You!" 
 
 " Ay, me ! with me own gun, too ! " 
 " Capital ! " cried Dick, tossing back his heavy 
 locks, and gazing at the child with proud delight. 
 " Yer a most fit an' proper darter for the Wild a 
 ho ! " sneezed Dick, with sudden violence, while 
 Mary glanced quickly up and opened her eyes 
 very wide. " Whisst to a hah ! whew ! wot 
 a tickler ! I raally think the mountain air's a-goin' 
 to make me subjick to catchin' colds." 
 
336 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 March took no notice of the remark. His 
 attention was at that moment divided between 
 Mary's eyes and a marrow-bone. 
 
 There is no accounting for the besotted stupidity 
 at this time of March Marston, who was naturally 
 quick-witted, unless upon the principle that pre- 
 judice renders a man utterly blind. A hundred 
 glaring and obvious facts, incidents, words, and 
 looks, ought to have enlightened him as to who 
 his new friend Dick really was. But his mind 
 was so thoroughly imbued, so saturated, with the 
 preconceived notion of the Wild Man of the West 
 being a huge, ferocious, ugly monster, all over 
 red, or perhaps blue, hair, from the eyes to the 
 toes, with canine teeth, and, very probably, a tail, 
 that unintentional hints and suggestive facts were 
 totally thrown away upon him. The fact is, that 
 if Dick had at that moment looked him full in 
 the face and said, " I'm the Wild Man of the 
 West," March would have said he didn't 
 believe it ! 
 
 "How came ye by the iron pot?" inquired 
 March suddenly, as the sight of that vessel changed 
 the current of his thoughts. 
 
 Dick's countenance became grave, and Mary's 
 eyes dropped. 
 
 " I'll tell ye some other time," said the former 
 quietly; "not now not now. Come, lad, if ye 
 mean to mount and ride wi' me to-morrow, you'll 
 ha' to eat heartier than that." 
 
CONVERSATION IN THE CAVE. 337 
 
 "I'm doing my best. Did you say it was 
 you that shot the inoose-deer, Mary ? " 
 
 "Yes, it was me. Me go out to kill bird for 
 make dinner, two day back, an' see the moose in 
 one place where hims no can escape but by one 
 way narrow way tree feets, not more, wide. 
 Hims look to me me's look to him. Then me 
 climb up side of rocks so hims no touch me, but 
 must pass below me quite near. Then me yell 
 horbuble yell ! (" Ha ! " thought March, " music, 
 sweetest music, that yell ! ") an' hiins run round 
 in great fright ! (" Oh, the blockhead/' thought 
 March) but see hims no, can git away, so hims 
 rush past me ! Me shoot in back of hims head, 
 an' him drop." 
 
 " Huzza ! " shouted Dick, in such a bass roar, 
 that March involuntarily started. "Well done, 
 lass ; ye'll make a splendid wife to a bold moun- 
 taineer." 
 
 March could not believe his eyes, while he 
 looked at the modest little creature who thus 
 coolly related the way in which she slaughtered the 
 moose ; but he was bound to believe his ears, for 
 Mary said she did the deed, and to suppose it 
 possible that Mary could tell a falsehood was, in 
 March's opinion, more absurd than to suppose 
 that the bright sun could change itself into 
 melted butter ! But Dick's enthusiastic refer- 
 ence to Mary one day becoming the wife of a 
 mountaineer startled him. He felt, that in the 
 
338 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 event of such a calamitous circumstance happen- 
 ing, she could no longer be his sister, and the 
 thought made him first fierce, and then sulky. 
 
 "D'ye kill many mountain sheep here, Dick?" 
 inquired March, when his ruffled temper had been 
 smoothed down with another marrow-bone. 
 
 " Ay, lots of 'em." 
 
 " What like are they close ? I've never been 
 nearer to 'em yet than a thousand yards or so 
 never within range." 
 
 " They're 'bout the size of a settlement sheep, 
 an' skin somethin' like the red- deer ; ye've seen 
 the red-deer, of coorse, March?" 
 
 "Yes, often; shot 'em too." 
 
 "Well, like them; but they've got most tree- 
 mendous horns. I shot one last week with horns 
 three fut six inches long ; there they lie now in 
 that corner. Are ye a good shot, March ? " 
 
 " Middlin'." 
 
 "D'ye smoke?" 
 
 " Yes, a little; but I an't a slave to it like some." 
 
 " Humph !" ejaculated Dick, sarcastically. " If 
 ye smoke ' a little,' how d'ye know but ye may 
 come to smoke much, an' be a slave to it like 
 other men ? Ye may run clown a steep hill, an' 
 say, when yer near the top, ' I can stop when I 
 like ; ' but ye'll come to a pint, lad, when ye'll 
 try to stop an' find ye can't when ye'd give all ye 
 own to leave off running but ye'll have to go on 
 faster an' faster till yer carried off yer legs, and, 
 
MARCH MARSTON AND DICK. 339 
 
 mayhap,, dashed to bits at the bottom. Smokin' 
 and drinkin' are both alike. Ye can begin when 
 you please, an', up to a certain pint, ye can stop 
 when ye please; but after that pint, ye can't 
 stop o' yer own free will ye'd die first. Many 
 an' many a poor fellow has died first, as I know." 
 
 " An' pray, Mister Solomon, do you smoke ? " 
 inquired March, testily, thinking that this ques- 
 tion would reduce his companion to silence. 
 
 "No, never." 
 
 "Not smoke!" cried March, in amazement. 
 The idea of a trapper not smoking was to him a 
 thorough and novel incomprehensibility. 
 
 ({ No ; nor drink neither," said Dick. " I once 
 did both, before I came to this part o' the country, 
 and I thank the Almighty for bringing me to a 
 place where it warn't easy to get either drink or 
 baccy specially drink, which I believe would 
 have laid me under the sod long ago, if I had bin 
 left in a place where I could ha' got it. An' now, 
 as Mary has just left us, poor thing, I'll tell ye 
 how I came by the big iron pot. There's no 
 mystery about it ; but as it b'longed to the poor 
 child's father, I didn't want to speak about it 
 before her." 
 
 Dick placed an elbow on each knee, and, rest- 
 ing his forehead upon his hands, stared for some 
 moments into the fire ere he again spoke. 
 
 " It's many years now," said he, in a low sad 
 tone, " since I left home, and but that's nothin' 
 z 2 
 
340 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 to do wi' the pint/' he added quickly. " You 
 see, March, when I first came to this part o' the 
 world I fell in with a comrade a trapper much 
 to my likin'. This trapper had been jilted by 
 some girl, and came away in a passion, detarminin' 
 never more to return to his native place. I never 
 know'd where he come from, nor the particulars 
 of his story, for that was a pint he would never 
 speak on. I don't believe I ever know'd his right 
 name. He called himself Adam; that was the 
 only name I ever know'd him by. 
 
 "Well, him an' me became great friends. He 
 lived wi' a band of Pawnee Injuns, and had mar- 
 ried a wife among them ; not that she was a pure 
 Injun neither, she was a half-breed. My Mary 
 was their only child ; she was a suckin' babe at 
 that time. Adam had gin her no name when we 
 first met, an' I remember him askin' me one day 
 what he should call her ; so I advised Mary an' 
 that's how she come to git the name. 
 
 "Adam an' me was always together. "We 
 suited each other. For myself, I had ta'en a 
 skunner at mankind, an' womankind, too ; so we 
 lived wi' the Pawnees, and hunted together, an' 
 slep' together when out on the tramp. But 
 one o' them reptiles took a spite at him, an' 
 tried by every way he could to raise the Injuns 
 agin' him, but couldn't; so he detarmined to 
 murder him. 
 
 "One day we was out huntin' together, an', 
 
HISTORY OF THE IRON POT. 341 
 
 being too far from the Pawnee lodges to return 
 that night,, we encamped in the wood, an' biled 
 our kettle this iron one ye see here. Adam had 
 a kind o' likin' for 'i, and always carried it at his 
 saddle-bow when he went out o' horseback. We'd 
 just begun supper, when up comes the Wild-cat, 
 as he was called Adam's enemy an' sits down 
 beside us. 
 
 " Of course, we could not say we thought he was 
 up to mischief, though we suspected it, so we gave 
 him his supper, an' he spent the night with us. 
 Nixt mornin' he bade us good day, an' w r ent off. 
 Then Adam said he would go an' set beaver-traps 
 in a creek about a mile off. Bein' lazy that day, 
 I said I'd lie a bit in the camp. So away he went. 
 The camp was on a hill. I could see him all the 
 way, and soon saw him in the water settin' his 
 traps. 
 
 l< Suddenly I seed the Wild-cat step out o' the 
 bushes with a bow an' arrow. I knew what was 
 up. I gave a roar that he might have heard ten 
 miles off, an' ran towards them. But an arrow was 
 in Adam's back before he could git to the shore. 
 In a moment more he had the Injun by the throat, 
 an' the two struggled for life. Adam could ha' 
 choked him easy, but the arrow in his back let 
 out the blood fast, an' he could barely hold his 
 own. Yet he strove like a true man. I was soon 
 there, for I nearly burst my heart in that race. 
 They were on the edge of the water. The Wild- 
 
342 THE WILD MAN OF THB WEST. 
 
 cat had him down, and was tryin' to force him 
 over the bank. 
 
 ' ' I had my big sword wi' me, an' hewed the rep- 
 tile's head off with it at one blow, sendin' it into 
 the river, an' tossin' the body in after it. 
 
 " ' It's too late,' says Adam, as I laid him softly 
 on. the bank. 
 
 " I could see that. The head of the shaft was 
 nearly in his heart. He tried to speak, but could 
 only say, ' Take care o' my wife an' Mary' then 
 he died, and I buried him there." 
 
 Dick paused, and clenched both hands con- 
 vulsively as the thought of that black day came 
 back upon him. But the glare in his eye soon 
 melted into a look of sadness. 
 
 "Well, well," he continued, "it's long past 
 now. Why should I be angry with the dead ? 
 Adam's wife never got the better o' that. She 
 dropped her head like a prairie flower in the first 
 blast of winter, an' was soon beside her husband. 
 
 " I waited till the little child could stump about 
 on its own legs, an' then I mounted my horse an' 
 rode away with it in my arms. The only things 
 belongin' to poor Adam I brought with me was 
 the iron pot an' his long rifle. There the rifle 
 stands in the corner. I've used it ever since." 
 
 " And have you and Mary lived here all alone 
 since that day ? " 
 
 " Ay. I came straight here not carin' where 
 I went, only anxious to get out o' the sight o' 
 
343 
 
 men, an' live alone wi' the child. I sought out a 
 dwellin' in the wildest part o' these mountains, 
 an' fell upon this cave, where we've lived happy 
 enough together.'' 
 
 " Do ye mean to say the child has never played 
 with other children ? " inquired March, amazed 
 at this discovery. 
 
 "Not much. I give her a run for a month 
 or two at a time, now an' agin, when I fall on a 
 friendly seto' well-disposed redskins just to keep 
 the right sort o' spirit in her, and comfort her 
 abit. But she's always willin' to live alone wi' me." 
 
 " Then she's never learned to read ? " said 
 March, sadly. 
 
 "That has she. She's got one book. It's a 
 story about a giant an' a fairy, an' a prince an' 
 princess. Most 'xtraornar' stuff. I got it from 
 a Blood Injun, who said he picked it up in a fron- 
 tier settlement where the people had all been mur- 
 dered. When we had nothin' better to do, I used 
 to teach her her letters out o' that book, an' the 
 moment she got 'em off she seemed to pick up 
 the words I dun' know how. She's awful quick. 
 She knows every word o' that story by heart. 
 An' she's invented heaps o' others o' the most 
 amazin' kind. I've often thought o' goin' to the 
 settlements to git her some books, but ." 
 
 Dick paused abruptly, and a dark frown settled 
 on his features, as if the thoughts of civilized men 
 and things revived unpleasant memories. 
 
344 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 "The fact is," lie continued, somewhat bit- 
 terly, " I've been a hater of my race. You'd 
 scarce believe it, lad, but you are the first man 
 I've ever told all this to. I can't tell why it is 
 that I feel a likiii' for ye, boy, an' a desire to have 
 ye stop with me. But that must not be. I had 
 but one friend. I must not make another to 
 have him murdered, mayhap, before my eyes. 
 Yet," he added, in a gentle tone, taking March's 
 hand in his, and stroking it, " I feel a likin' for 
 ye, boy, that makes me sad to think o' partin'." 
 
 " But we don't need to part, Dick," said 
 March, eagerly. "I like you too, and I like 
 
 your style of life, an' ." He was going to 
 
 have added that he liked Mary, and that he 
 would live with them both all his days, when 
 the little cottage at Pine Point settlement and his 
 loving mother rose before him, and caused him to 
 drop his head and terminate his speech abruptly. 
 
 Just then Mary re-entered the cavern, and put 
 an end to the conversation. 
 
MARCH BREAKS DOWN. 345 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 March, though willing in Spirit, finds his Body weak He 
 makes Mary a Present The Trappers set out to search 
 for their Lost Comrade An Unexpected Meeting 
 Big Waller waxes Pugnacious News of March Dick 
 becomes more Mysterious than ever A Keckless Pro- 
 posal and a Happy Meeting. 
 
 NEXT morning, before daybreak, March Marston 
 attempted to set out for the Mountain Fort with 
 Dick; but he was so thoroughly knocked up 
 before the end of the first mile that he had to 
 call a halt,, and admit that he could not think of 
 going farther. This was just what Dick wanted ; 
 so he laughed, told him to go back and take care 
 of Mary, and he would advance alone. 
 
 March returned, very much humbled, exces- 
 sively pained in all his joints, and feeling as if 
 he had reason to be ashamed of himself. 
 
 " Oh ! you com back ? " cried Mary, as he 
 entered the cavern with a crest-fallen air. " Me 
 so glad ! Me know very well you no was possible 
 for travel. " 
 
 Mary was perfectly artless. She made no 
 attempt whatever to conceal her satisfaction at 
 the youth's return, so he felt amazingly com- 
 forted, and even began to recover his self-esteem. 
 
346 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 "Yes, Mary, I've come back, 'cause I can't 
 go forward. It's o' no use tryin'; I'd just have 
 knocked up on the way, which would have been 
 awkward for Dick, you know, as well as for 
 me. Besides, I couldn't fight just now to save 
 my life." 
 
 "Well, you is right. You stop here an' git 
 strong an' well. Me tell you stories 'bout Dick, 
 or other mans if you likes. We'll have no fightin' 
 to do. If there is, me take care of you. Me can 
 doos a littil in that way." 
 
 March opened his eyes very wide at this, and 
 stared at the pretty little vision in leather, but 
 there was no smile or sly wrinkle on her coun- 
 tenance. She was looking quite gravely and 
 sedately into the iron pot, which she happened to 
 be stirring at that moment. 
 
 "Mary," he said, sitting down beside her, 
 "Dick tells me you can read." 
 
 " Yis, me can read littil. But me only got one 
 book." She sighed slightly as she said this. 
 
 " Would you like to have another book ? " 
 
 " Oh yis, very very much. Have you got one ?" 
 
 " Ay, one ; the only one I have in the world, 
 Mary ; an' you're the only person in the world I'd 
 give it to. But I'll give it to you, 'cause you've 
 no chance of gettin' one like it here. It's a Bible 
 the one my mother gave me when I left 
 home." 
 
 March pulled the little volume out of the breast 
 
347 
 
 of his coat as he spoke, and handed it to the 
 girl, who received it eagerly, and looked at it 
 with mingled feelings of awe and curiosity for 
 some time before she ventured to open it. 
 
 " The Bibil. Dick have oftin speak to me 'bout 
 it, an' try to 'member some of it. But he no 
 can 'member much. He tell me it speak about 
 the great good Spirit. Injins call him Mani- 
 tow." 
 
 " So it does, Mary. I'll leave it with you when 
 I go away. You say Dick couldn't remember 
 much of it ; neither can I, Mary. More shame 
 to me, for many an' many a time has my poor 
 mother tried to make me learn it off by heart." 
 
 " You mother ? " repeated Mary, earnestly. 
 " Is you mother livin' ? " 
 
 "That is she. At least, I left her well an' 
 hearty in Pine Point settlement not many weeks 
 agone." 
 
 " Me wish me had mother," said Mary, with a 
 sigh. 
 
 March gazed at the sad face of his fair compa- 
 nion with a perplexed yet sympathetic look. This 
 was a new idea to him. Never having been with- 
 out a mother, it had never entered into his head 
 to think of such a thing as wishing for one. 
 
 " What you mother called ? " said the girl, 
 looking up quickly. 
 
 " Her name is Mary." 
 
 " Yis ! that very strange. Call same as me." 
 
348 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 " Not very strange, after all. There are a good 
 number of Marys in the world," replied March, 
 with a laugh. " See, here is her name on the 
 fly-leaf of the Bible, written with her own hand, 
 too : ' To my dear March, from his loving mother, 
 Mary Marston, Pine Point settlement/ Isn't it 
 a good round hand o' write ? " 
 
 " Very pritty," replied Mary. But she had 
 now begun to spell out the words of the book, 
 which had at last fallen into her hands, and 
 March could not again draw her into general 
 talk ; so he was fain to sit down and help her to 
 read the Bible. 
 
 Leaving them thus occupied, we will now return 
 to the trappers, three of whom, it will be remem- 
 bered, Bounce, Redhand, and Gibault, had 
 reached the Mountain Fort and given the alarm. 
 Soon afterwards the Indians arrived there; but 
 finding everything in readiness to give them a 
 warm reception, they retired at once, preferring 
 to wait their opportunity rather than have a fair 
 stand-up fight with the white men. About an 
 hour after they had retired, Big Waller, Hawks- 
 wing, and the artist, came tearing towards the 
 fort, and were at once admitted. 
 
 They had nothing new to tell. They had met 
 together by accident, as the others had done, on 
 nearing the fort, and would have been in sooner, 
 had not Big Waller been obliged to take charge 
 of poor Bertram, who, owing to the suddenness 
 
349 
 
 and violence of all these recent events in savage 
 life, had got into a muddled condition of mind 
 that rendered him peculiarly helpless. But they 
 knew nothing of March Marston they had ex- 
 pected to find him there before them. 
 
 As March was well mounted, and known to be 
 well qualified to take care of himself, his non- 
 arrival threw his friends into a state of the utmost 
 anxiety and suspense. They waited a couple of 
 hours, in order to give him a chance of coming 
 in, hoping that he might have merely been de- 
 tained by some trifling accident, such as having 
 lost his way for a time. But \vhen, at the end 
 of that period, there was still no sign of him, 
 they gave up all hope of his arriving, and at once 
 set out to sweep the whole country round in 
 search of him, vowing in their hearts that they 
 would never return to Pine Point settlement 
 without him if he were alive. 
 
 McLeod tried to persuade them to remain at 
 the fort for a few days, but, feeling sympathy 
 with them, he soon ceased to press the matter. 
 As for the wretched chief of the fort, Macgregor, 
 the excitement of the recent transactions being 
 over, he had returned to his bosom friend, and 
 bitterest enemy, the bottle, and was at that time 
 lying in a state of drivelling idiotcy in his pri- 
 vate chamber. 
 
 A few days after quitting the fort, Bounce and 
 Gibault, who chanced to be riding considerably 
 
350 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 in advance of their companions, halted on the 
 top of a ridge and began to scan the country 
 before them. In the midst of their observations, 
 Bounce broke the silence with a grunt. 
 
 " Fat now ? " inquired his companion. 
 
 " What now ? " replied Bounce, contemp- 
 tuously. " Use yer eyes now : d'ye see nothin' ? " 
 
 " Non, no ting." 
 
 " That comes o' the want of obsarvation, now," 
 said Bounce, in a grave, reproachful tone. " Ye 
 shouldn't ought to be so light-headed, lad. If ye 
 wos left to yer lone in them sort o' places, ye'd 
 soon lose yer scalp. It's obsarvation as does it 
 all, an' in yer partikler case it's the want o' that 
 same as doesn't do it, d'ye see ? " 
 
 " Non, vraiment, me shockable blind dis day ; 
 mais, p'raps, git more cliver de morrow/' replied 
 the good-humoured Canadian, with a grin. ' ' Fat 
 you see ? " 
 
 " I see frit-prints," replied Bounce, dismount- 
 ing ; " an' as fut-prints implies feet, an' feet indi- 
 cates critters, human or otherwise, it becomes 
 men wot be lookin' for a lost comrade to examine 
 'em with more nor or'nary care." 
 
 " Hah ! " shouted Gibault, with unwonted 
 energy. " Look ! voila ! behold ! Bounce, you 
 hab great want of ' obsarvation.' See ! " 
 
 Now it chanced that, while Bounce was on his 
 knees, carefully turning over every leaf and blade 
 of grass, his comrade, who remained on horse- 
 
MARCH'S COMRADES AND THE WILD MAN. 351 
 
 back, and kept gazing at the horizon, without 
 any particular object in view, did suddenly behold 
 an object coming towards them at full gallop. 
 Hence the sudden outburst, and the succeeding 
 exclamation from Bounce "It's a boss ! " 
 
 " A hoss ! " repeated Gibault. " Him be one 
 buffalo, I see hims bump/' 
 
 "The bump that ye see is neither more nor 
 less than a man leanin' forard it is." 
 
 At this moment the rest of the party rode up, 
 and Eedhand confirmed Bounce's opinion. 
 
 " There's only one, I guess, an' he's in a power- 
 ful hurry/' observed Big Waller. " But we may 
 as well be ready to fix his flint if he means to cut 
 up rough." 
 
 He brought forward his gun as he spoke, and 
 examined the priming. 
 
 "I b'lieve he's an evil spirit, I do," said Bounce; 
 " wot a pade ! " 
 
 "More like to de Wild Man of de Vest," ob- 
 served Gibault. 
 
 " Think you so ? " whispered Bertram in an 
 anxious tone, with an involuntary motion of his 
 hand to the pouch, in which lay that marvellous 
 sketch-book of his. 
 
 " Think it's him ? " said Kedhand toHawkswing. 
 
 The Indian gave a slight grunt of assent. 
 
 But the strange horseman soon put all doubt 
 on the point at rest by bearing down upon them 
 like a whirlwind, his long hair, and tags, and 
 
352 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 scalp-locks, streaming in the wind as usual. Dick 
 had a distinct purpose in thus acting. He wished 
 to terrify men, or, at least, to impress them with 
 a wholesome dread of him, in order that he might 
 simply be let alone I 
 
 He did not check his slashing pace until within 
 four or five bounds of the party. Kerning up so 
 violently that he tore up the turf for a couple of 
 yards under his horsed heels, he looked at the 
 trappers with a grave, almost fierce expression, for 
 a second or two. 
 
 " You come from the Mountain Fort ?" he said. 
 
 " Yes," replied Redhand. 
 
 < ( All right there ? " 
 
 <c All right. The redskins threatened an attack, 
 but we were too quick for 'em." 
 
 A gleam of satisfaction passed across Dick's face, 
 as he added, " You've lost a comrade, han't ye ? " 
 
 " We jist have," cried Big Waller in surprise. 
 " If you've seed him, I guess ye'd as well take us 
 to his whereabouts." 
 
 " See you yonder pine ? " said Dick, pointing 
 back in the direction whence he had come. " One 
 day's journey beyond that, as the crow flies, will 
 bring ye to a valley, level and well watered, 
 with plenty o' beaver in it. You'll find him 
 there." 
 
 Without waiting a reply Dick turned to ride 
 away. 
 
 " I say, stranger," cried Waller (Dick paused), 
 
MARCH'S COMRADES AND THE WILD MAN. 353 
 
 " air you, or air you not, the Wild Man o' the 
 West ? " 
 
 "Wild fools of the West call me so/' replied 
 Dick, with a ferocious frown, that went far to 
 corroborate the propriety of the cognomen in the 
 opinion of the trappers. 
 
 " Wall, I tell 'ee wot it is, stranger, Wild Man 
 or not, I guess you'll ha' to take us to our com- 
 rade yourself, for I'm inclined to opine that you 
 know more about him than's good for ye ; so if 
 ye try to ride off, I'll see whether a ball sixteen 
 to the pound '11 not stop ye, for all yer bigness." 
 
 A grim smile curled Dick's moustache, as he 
 replied, " If ye think that a trapper's word an't 
 to be trusted, or that committin' murder '11 do 
 yer comrade a service, here's your chance fire 
 away ! " 
 
 Dick wheeled about and cantered coolly away 
 into the thickest part of the forest, leaving the 
 trappers gazing at each other in amazement. 
 Bertram was the first to speak. 
 
 " Oh, why did you not delay him a few seconds 
 longer ? See, I have him here all but the legs 
 of his splendid charger." 
 
 The others burst into a laugh. 
 
 "If ye've got the body all c'rect, it's easy to 
 calculate the legs by the rules o' proportion, d'ye 
 see?" observed Bounce. 
 
 " Come, lads, that's good news about March, 
 anyhow," cried Redhand; "an' I'm of opinion 
 2 A 
 
354 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 that the Wild Man o' the West an't just so wild 
 as people think. I, for one, will trust him. 
 There's somethin' about the corner of a man's 
 eye that tells pretty plain whether he's false or 
 true. Depend on't we shall find March where he 
 told us, so the sooner we set off the better." 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, Redhand urged 
 his horse into a gallop, and, followed by his com- 
 rades, made for the valley indicated by the Wild 
 Man. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Wild Man himself was already 
 far ahead of them, keeping out of sight among 
 the woods, and galloping nearly in the same 
 direction, for his cave lay not more than four 
 miles from the valley in question. Being much 
 better mounted than they, he soon left the 
 trappers far behind him, and when night closed 
 in he continued his journey, instead of halting 
 to eat and take a few hours' rest as they did. 
 The consequence was, that he reached his cave 
 several honrs before the trappers arrived at the 
 valley, where they expected to find their missing 
 comrade. ^ 
 
 Of course March was filled with surprise at this 
 second unexpected return of Dick ; but the latter 
 relieved his mind by explaining, in an off-hand 
 way, that he had met a man who had told him the 
 Mountain Fort was all safe, and that his comrades 
 also were safe, and wandering about in that part 
 of the country in search of him. After a good 
 
MARCH MARSTON AND DICK. 355 
 
 deal of desultory conversation, Dick turned to his 
 guest with a sad, serious air, and, fixing his large 
 blue eyes on him, said, 
 
 " March, lad, you an' me must part soon." 
 
 " Part ! " exclaimed the youth in surprise, 
 glancing at Mary, who sat opposite to him, em- 
 broidering a pair of mocassins. 
 
 " Ay, we must part. You'll be well enough in 
 a day or two to travel about with yer comrades. 
 Now, lad, I want ye to understand me. I've 
 lived here, off and on, for the last fourteen or 
 fifteen years it may be more, it may be less ; I 
 don't well remember an' I've niver suffered men 
 to interfere wi' me. I don't want them, an' they 
 don't want me." 
 
 He paused. There was a slight dash of bitter- 
 ness in the tone in which the last words were 
 uttered; but it was gone when he resumed, in 
 his usual low and musical voice, 
 
 "Now, although I chose to bring you to my 
 cave, because I found ye a'most in a dyin' state, 
 an' have let ye into one or two o' my secrets, 
 because I couldn't help it, seem' that I couldn't 
 stop up yer eyes an' yer ears, yet I don't choose 
 to let yer comrades know anything about me. 
 They've no right to, an' you have no right to tell 
 'em ; so, when ye meet 'em again ye mustn't talk 
 about me or my cave, d'ye see ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said March, who was both sur- 
 prised and annoyed by this speech, " certainly you 
 2 A 2 
 
356 THE WILD MAN Ol' THE WEST. 
 
 have a perfect right to command me to hold my 
 tougue ; and, seein' that you've bin so kind to me, 
 Dick, I'm in duty bound to obey ; but how can 
 you ask me to put myself in such an awkward 
 fix ? You don't suppose I can make my com- 
 rades believe I've bin livin' on air or grass for 
 some days past, an' they'll see, easy enough, that 
 I've not bin in a condition to help myself. Be- 
 sides, whatever your notions may be about truth, 
 mine are of such a sort that they won't let me 
 tell a parcel o' lies to please anybody." 
 
 " Far be it from me, boy, to ask ye to tell lies. 
 You can tell yer comrades that you've bin took 
 care of by a trapper as lives in a cave among the 
 mountains ; but you don't need to tell 'em where 
 the cave is ; an' if they worry ye to guide 'em to 
 it, ye can refuse. Moreover, jist speak o' me in 
 an off-hand, careless sort o' way, d'ye see, an' be 
 particular not to tell what I'm like, 'cause it 
 might make 'em take a fancy to hunt me up." 
 
 There appeared to be a dash of vanity in the 
 latter part of this remark, which surprised March 
 not a little ; for it seemed to him quite incon- 
 sistent with the stout hunter's wonted modesty of 
 demeanour and speech. 
 
 " Well, I'm bound to think only o' your wishes 
 in this matter," replied March, in a disappointed 
 tone, " an' I'll do my best to prevent my com- 
 rades interfering with ye, tho', to say truth, I 
 don't think you need be so cautious, for they ain't 
 
TALK ABOUT PARTING. 357 
 
 over-curious none of 'em. But " here March 
 paused and glanced at Mary, who, he observed, 
 had drooped her head very much during the con- 
 versation, and from whose eye at that moment a 
 bright tear fell, like a diamond, on the work with 
 which she was engaged. 
 
 " But am I the fact is, Dick, I feel a little 
 sore that you should say ye had a likin' for me, 
 an' then tell me I must be off, an' never look near 
 ye again." 
 
 " That's wot I never did say, boy/' returned 
 Dick, smiling. ' ' Ye may come alone to see me 
 as often as ye like, while ye remain in these parts. 
 An' if it please ye, yer at liberty to come an' live 
 wi' me. There's room in the mountains for both 
 of us. The cave can hold three if need be." 
 
 March Marston's heart beat quick. He was 
 on the eve of forming a great resolve ! His bosom 
 heaved, and his eye sparkled, as he was about to 
 close hastily with this proposal, when, again, the 
 memory of his mother crossed him, and a deep 
 sigh burst from his lips, as he shook his head, and 
 said, sorrowfully, " It can't be done, Dick. I 
 can't forsake my mother." 
 
 " No more ye should, lad, no more ye should," 
 said Dick, nodding approvingly, "but there's 
 nothin' to prevent your spendin' the winter and 
 spring here, an' returnin' to yer mother next 
 iiner." 
 Done!" cried March, springing up as well 
 
358 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 as his bruised muscles would permit him, and 
 seizing his friend enthusiastically by the hand, 
 " Fll stop with you and send home word by my 
 comrades that Fll be back in summer. That's 
 capital!" 
 
 Mary seemed to be quite of the same opinion, 
 for she looked quickly up with a beaming smile. 
 
 " Well, so it is a good plan," said Dick, some- 
 what gravely; "but don't act in haste, else ye 
 may ha' to repent at leisure. Go an' speak to 
 yer comrades, see what they advise ye to do, an* 
 come again an' let me know. And, now we're 
 on that pint, I may tell ye that yer friends will 
 be at the head of a valley not four miles from 
 here this very night, an' they expect ye there." 
 
 " How d'ye know that ?" cried March, breath- 
 less with amazement. 
 
 "Well, ye see, the Wild Man o' the West 
 knows that you're in them parts; he has seed 
 you an' knows where ye are, an' he met yer 
 comrades, the trappers, no later than yesterday, 
 an' told 'em they'd find ye in the valley I spoke 
 of just now; so we must be up an' away to 
 meet 'em." 
 
 Dick rose as he spoke and began to make pre- 
 paration to depart. 
 
 "But how came you to know this?" inquired 
 the astonished youth. 
 
 "Why, the Wild Man an' me's oncommon 
 intimate, d'ye see. In fact, I may say we're jist 
 
359 
 
 inseparable companions, an' so I come to know 
 it that way. But make haste. We've no time 
 to lose." 
 
 "Good-bye, Mary/' cried March, with a cheer- 
 ful smile, as he hurried out of the cave after his 
 eccentric companion. "I'll be back before long, 
 depend on't." 
 
 Mary nodded, and the two men were soon 
 mounted and out of sight. 
 
 "I say, Dick/' observed March, as they rode 
 along, "you must get me to see the Wild Man 
 of the West; if you're so intimate with him, you 
 can easily bring him into the cave; now won't 
 you, Dick?" 
 
 "Well, as I can't help doin' it, I s'pose I may 
 say yes, at once." 
 
 "Can't help it, Dick! What mean you? I 
 wish ye'd talk sense." 
 
 " Hist ! " exclaimed the hunter, pulling up 
 suddenly, under the shelter of a cliff. "Yonder 
 come yer friends, sooner than I expected. I'll 
 leave ye here. They've not seed us yit, an' that 
 wood'll hide me till I git away. Now, March," 
 he added, solemnly, " remember yer promise" 
 
 In another moment the wild hunter was gone, 
 and March rode forward to meet his old comrades, 
 who, having now caught sight of him, came up 
 the valley at full speed, shouting and waving their 
 caps joyfully as they approached. In a shorter 
 space of time than it takes to tell, March was 
 
360 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 surrounded, dragged off his horse, passed from 
 one to another, to be handled roughly, in order 
 to make sure that it was really himself, and, 
 finally, was swallowed up by Bounce in a mascu- 
 line embrace that might almost have passed for 
 the hug of a grisly bear. 
 
BOUNCE ORACULAR. 361 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 March Marston is perplexed, so are his Friends An un- 
 looked-for Meeting Terrible News the Attack The 
 Wild Man of the West once again renders signal Service 
 to the Trappers Wild Doings in general, and March 
 Marston's Chagrin in particular. 
 
 "MARCH MARSTON," said Bounce and Bounce 
 was sitting beside the camp-fire, smoking his pipe 
 after supper when he said it "you may think 
 ye're a 'cute feller, you may, oncommon 'cute; 
 but if you'll listen to wot an oldish hunter says, 
 an' take his advice, you'll come to think, in a 
 feelosophical way, d'ye see, that you're not quite 
 so 'cute as ye suppose." 
 
 Bounce delivered this oracularly, and followed 
 it up with a succession of puffs, each of which 
 was so solidly yellow as to suggest to the mind of 
 Bertram, who chanced to be taking his portrait 
 at that moment, that the next puff would burst 
 out in pure flame. Gibault and Big Waller 
 nodded their heads in testimony of their approval 
 of the general scope of the remark; the latter 
 even went the length of " guessing that it was a 
 fact," and Redhand smiled. Hawkswing looked, 
 if possible, graver than usual. 
 
 "As," resumed Bounce, after a considerable 
 
362 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 pause, during which. March looked and felt very 
 uncomfortable, " the natural eyes of old men be- 
 comes more dimmer, d'ye see? their mental 
 eyes, so to speak, becomes sharper, so as that 
 they can see through no end o' figurative mill- 
 stones. That bein' the case when there's no 
 millstone to be seen through at all, but only a 
 oncommon thin trans trans " 
 
 " Ollification," suggested Waller, modestly. 
 
 "Not at all/' retorted Bounce, with much 
 severity in his tone. " I wos goin' to have said 
 transparientsy ; but Fll not say that now, 
 seein' it's too feelosophical for the likes o' you ; 
 but, as I wos saying that bein' the case, d'ye see ? 
 it's quite plain that " 
 
 Here Bounce, having got into depths unusually 
 profound, even for his speculative and philoso- 
 phical turn of mind, sought refuge in a series of 
 voluminous puffs, and wound up, finally, with an 
 emphatic assertion that "there wos somethin' 
 wrong, an' it wos o' no manner o' use to try to 
 throw dust in his eyes, seem' that his winkin' 
 powers wos sich as to enable him to keep it out, 
 no matter how thick or fast it should come." 
 
 " Ah, that's yer sort ! I calculate you're floored 
 there, March," said Waller, gravely. " The fact 
 is, boy, that it won't do; you've got somethin' 
 in the background that Mr. Bertram talks sich a 
 heap about. You ought to be fair 
 board with comrades, ye ought." 
 
MARCH MARSTON PERPLEXED. 363 
 
 "Oui," added Gibault. "Of course, you have 
 live somewhere, an' somehow, all dis time. It 
 am not posseeble for live nowhere on noting." 
 
 " Well, I tell you I have lived with a hunter, 
 who treated me very well, and told me I'd find 
 you here ; having learned that, as I understand, 
 from the Wild Man o' the West himself." 
 
 "Very true," said Bounce; "but where does 
 the hunter live ?" 
 
 " In the mountains," replied March. 
 
 " So does the Blackfeet an' the Peigans an' the 
 Crows, an' the foxes an' wolves an' grisly bars," 
 retorted Bounce, drily. 
 
 " I'll tell ye what it is," cried the exasperated 
 March; "the curiosity of you fellers beats the 
 squaws out an' out. Now, I'll be open with 
 ye, an' then ye must hold your tongues. This 
 man that I've been stayin' with is a very fine 
 fellow, an' a very wonderful fellow, an' his name's 
 Dick 
 
 " Dick what ? " inquired Bounce. 
 
 " Dick nothing," said March. 
 
 "Ay ! that's a odd name." 
 
 "No, I mean he's only called Dick, an' he 
 wouldn't tell me his other name if he has one. 
 Well, he said to me I was not to tell where he 
 lived, as he don't like company, an' so he made 
 me promise, an' I did promise, d'ye see; so I 
 mean to stick to my promise, and that's all about 
 it. I would like to tell ye about him, comrades, 
 
364 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 but you wouldn't have me break my word, would 
 you?" 
 
 "Cer'nly not, by no means/' said Bounce. 
 " Does he live all by his lone ?" 
 
 "No eh ah! Well, I fancy it's not break- 
 in' my word to tell ye that no, he's got a little 
 gal, an adopted daughter, livin' with him." 
 
 "Is she good-lookin' ? " inquired Bounce, 
 quickly, with a sharp glance at the youth. 
 
 March looked a little confused, and, in a 
 hesitating manner, admitted that she was. 
 
 " Ah ! I thought so/' observed Bounce, gravely, 
 shaking his head and looking unutterably profound, 
 while Gibault gave a low whistle and winked to 
 Big Waller, who returned the mystic signal with 
 the addition of a knowing nod, all of which move- 
 ments were observed by poor March, who became 
 very red in the face and felt very angry and re- 
 markably uncomfortable, and quite unable to 
 decide whether it were better to laugh or storm. 
 He was saved from all further perplexity on this 
 point, however, by the sudden appearance of a 
 horseman on the distant plain, who seemed to be 
 approaching the valley in which they were en- 
 camped. At first, he looked like a black speck 
 or a crow on the horizon, and, in the uncertain 
 light of the rapidly closing day, it would have 
 been difficult for any unaccustomed eye to make 
 out what the object was. 
 
 In a short time he drew near enough to be 
 
AN UNLOOKED-FOR MEETING. 365 
 
 distinguished clearly, and the rapid patter of the 
 horse's hoofs on the turf told that the rider was 
 flying over the ground at unusual speed. Passing 
 round a clump of low trees that stretched out 
 from the mouth of the valley into the plain, he 
 came dashing towards the camp a wild-looking, 
 dishevelled creature, seemingly in a state of reck- 
 less insanity. 
 
 " The Wild Man again, surely," said Bounce, 
 who, with his companions, had risen to await the 
 coming up of the stranger. 
 
 " D'you think so ? " cried March Marston, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Ye eh ! why, I do b'lieve it's Mr. Mac- 
 gregor/' cried the astonished Bounce, as the 
 reckless rider dashed up to the camp-fire, and, 
 springing from his horse with a yell that savoured 
 more of a savage than a civilized spirit, cried 
 
 " Look out, lads ; up with a pile o' rocks an' 
 trees ! They'll he on us in a jiffy ! There's five 
 hundred o' the red reptiles if there's one. The 
 Mountain Fort's burned to cinders every man 
 and woman dead and scalped look alive ! " 
 
 These words were uttered hastily, in broken 
 exclamations, as Macgregor seized the logs that 
 had been cut for fire-wood, and began violently to 
 toss them together in a pile ; while the trappers, 
 although much amazed and horrified at the news, 
 seized their hatchets and began to make instant 
 preparation to resist an attack, without wasting 
 
366 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 time in useless questions. They observed that 
 the commander of the Mountain Fort was pale as 
 death, that his eyes were bloodshot, his clothes 
 torn, and his hands and face begrimed with powder 
 and stained with blood. 
 
 March Marston worked like a hero at the rude 
 breastwork for some time, although the effort 
 caused him so much pain that he could not help 
 showing it in his countenance. 
 
 " March," said Bounce, seizing him suddenly 
 by the shoulder, "you're not fit to work, an' 
 much less fit to fight. I'll tell ye wot to do, lad. 
 Jump on my horse, an' away to yer friend the 
 trapper, an' bring him here to help us. One 
 stout arm '11 do us more good this night than ten 
 battered bodies sich as yours, poor feller." 
 
 March felt the truth of this, so without delay, 
 turned to obey. Just as he was about to leave 
 he heard a deep groan, and turning round, saw 
 Macgregor fall to the ground. 
 
 "You're ill," he cried, running to him and 
 kneeling down. 
 
 "No not ill, just a scratch from an arrow," 
 gasped the trader, with an oath. " I believe the 
 head's stickin' in my back." 
 
 " Away, March," cried Redhand, " we'll look 
 to this. Waller, out wi' the fire, man; ye used 
 to be more spry when ah ! too late, there they 
 are, they've seen us." 
 
 " Into the fort, boys," cried Bounce, alluding to 
 
THE ATTACK ON THE FORT. 367 
 
 the breastwork, " we don't need to care ; with 
 plenty o' powder and lead we can keep five thou- 
 sand redskins off." 
 
 March heard no more. Dashing up the glen at 
 full speed, he disappeared from the spot, just as 
 the distant yell of the savage host came floating 
 upon the wings of the night air, apprising the 
 trappers that their fire had been observed, and 
 that they would have to fight manfully if they 
 hoped to carry their scalps home with them. 
 
 In a few minutes the Indians drew near, and 
 scattering themselves round the little entrench- 
 ment, began to discharge clouds of arrows at it, 
 but, fortunately, without doing any damage. An 
 inaccessible cliff protected their rear, and behind 
 a projection of this the trappers' horses were se- 
 cured. The breastwork lay immediately in front. 
 
 Again and again, the savages let fly their shafts, 
 but without drawing any reply from the trappers, 
 who kept close under cover, and reserved their 
 fire. This tempted their enemies to approach, 
 and, when within short range, they seemed about 
 to make a rush, supposing, no doubt, that the 
 party concealed behind the breastwork must be 
 Indians, since they did not use fire-arms. Just 
 then Eedhand gave a preconcerted signal ; three 
 sheets of flame spouted from their guns, and 
 three of the foremost Indians fell dead from their 
 horses. 
 
 With a terrible yell the others turned to fly, 
 
368 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 but before they had retreated a yard three more 
 shots were fired with deadly effect. They now 
 took shelter behind trees and rocks, and attempted 
 to dislodge the trappers by discharging arrows 
 into the air at such an angle that they should 
 drop into their fortress. One or two endea- 
 voured to ascend the steep cliff, but the instant 
 an arm or shoulder appeared, a ball from Ked- 
 hand's deadly rifle struck it, so the attempt was 
 abandoned. 
 
 While this was going on, March Marston gal- 
 loped to Dick's cave, and startled poor Mary not 
 a little by the abruptness of his entrance. But, 
 to his mortification, Dick was not at home. It 
 so chanced that that wild individual had taken it 
 into his head to remain concealed in the woods 
 near the spot where he had parted from his late 
 guest, and had not only witnessed the meeting of 
 March with his friends, but had seen the arrival 
 of Macgregor, the subsequent departure of March 
 in the direction of the cave, and the attack made 
 by the Indians. When, therefore, the youth was 
 speeding towards his cavern, the Wild Man (who 
 was not sorry to see him go off on such an 
 errand), was busily planning the best mode of 
 atttacking the enemy so as to render effectual 
 aid to the trappers. 
 
 Observing that the Indians had clustered 
 together at the foot of a rugged cliff, appa- 
 rently for the purpose of holding a council of 
 
TIMELY AID OF THE WILD MAN. 369 
 
 war, Dick made his way quickly to the summit of 
 the cliff, and, leaving his charger on an eminence 
 that sloped down towards the entrance of the 
 valley, quickly and noiselessly carried several huge 
 stones to the edge of the precipice, intending to 
 throw them down on the heads of his foes. Just 
 as he was about to do so, he observed an over- 
 hanging mass of rock, many tons in weight, which 
 the frosts of winter had detached from the preci- 
 pice. Placing his feet against this, and leaning 
 his back against the solid rock, he exerted himself 
 with all his might, like a second Samson. No 
 human power could have moved such a rock, had 
 it not been almost overbalanced ; but, being so, 
 Dick's effort moved it. Again he strained, until 
 the great veins seemed about to burst through the 
 skin of his neck and forehead. Gradually the 
 rock toppled and fell, and the Wild Man fell 
 along with it. 
 
 In the agony of that moment he uttered a cry 
 so terrible that it might well have been supposed 
 to have come from the throat of a supernatural 
 being. The Indians had not time to evade the 
 danger. The ponderous mass in its descent hit 
 a projecting crag, and burst into smaller frag- 
 ments, which fell in a rattling shower, killing two 
 men, and wounding others. Those of the group 
 who escaped, as well as those whc chanced to be 
 beyond the danger, saw, by the dim moonlight, 
 the Wild Man of the West descending, as it -were, 
 2 B 
 
370 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 like a furious demon in the midst of the dire con- 
 fusion of dust and rocks. They knew him well. 
 It wanted but this to fill them to overflow with 
 superstitious dread. They turned and fled. The 
 trappers, although amazed heyond measure, and 
 half suspecting who it was that had thus suddenly 
 come to their aid, mounted their horses, and, 
 leaping over their barricade, rushed down the 
 valley in pursuit, firing a volley at starting, and 
 loading as they rode at full speed. In his descent 
 Dick made what might well be termed a mira- 
 culous escape. Near the foot of the cliff he went 
 crashing through a thick bush, which broke his 
 fall. Still he retained impetus sufficient to have 
 seriously injured if not killed him, had he not 
 alighted in the midst of another bush, which 
 saved him so completely that he was not even 
 hurt. 
 
 Dick could scarcely believe his own senses ; but 
 he was not a man given to indulge much wan- 
 dering thought in times of action. Giving him- 
 self one shake, to make sure of his being actually 
 sound in wind and limb, he bounded away up the 
 precipice by a path with which he was well 
 acquainted, reached his horse, flew by a short 
 cut to the mouth of the valley, and, wheeling 
 suddenly round, met the horrified Indians in the 
 very teeth ! 
 
 The roar with which he met them was com- 
 pound in its nature, and altogether hideous ! His 
 
FLIGHT OF THE INDIANS. 371 
 
 mind was in a mingled condition of amazement 
 and satisfaction at his escape, triumph at the 
 success of his plan, and indignation at the cow- 
 ardly wickedness of the savages. A rollicking 
 species of mad pugnacity took possession of him, 
 and the consequence was, that the sounds which 
 issued from his leathern throat were positively 
 inhuman. 
 
 The rushing mass of terror-stricken men, thus 
 caught, as it were, between two fires, divided, in 
 order to escape him. Dick was not sorry to 
 observe this. He felt that the day was gained 
 without farther bloodshed. He knew that the 
 superstitious dread in which he was held was a 
 guarantee that the savages would not return ; so, 
 instead of turning with the trappers to join in the 
 pursuit, he favoured them with a concluding and a 
 peculiarly monstrous howl, and then rode quietly 
 away by a circuitous route to his own cavern. 
 
 Thus he avoided March Marston, who, on 
 finding that his friend Dick was out, had returned 
 at full speed to aid his comrades, and arrived just 
 in time to meet them returning, triumphant and 
 panting, from their pursuit of the foe ! 
 
 " Are they gone ? " cried March in amazement. 
 
 te Ay, right slick away into the middle o' no 
 whar," replied Big Waller, laughing heartily. 
 " Did ye iver hear such a roarer, comrades ? " 
 
 " Have you licked 'em out an' out? " continued 
 the incredulous March. 
 
 2 B 2 
 
372 THE WILD MAX OF THE WEST. 
 
 "Ay, out an' out, an' no mistake/' replied 
 Bounce, dismounting. 
 
 " Well, that is lucky/' said March ; " for my 
 friend Dick I found was not " 
 
 " Ah ! \ve not have need him," interrupted 
 Gibault, wiping the perspiration from his fore- 
 head, " de Wild Man of de West hims come, an' 
 oh ! you should see what hims have bin do ! " 
 
 " The Wild Man again ? " exclaimed March in 
 dismay ({ an' me absent ! " 
 
 Gibault nodded and laughed. 
 
 At that moment an exclamation from Redhand 
 attracted the attention of the whole party. He 
 was kneeling beside Macgregor, who had dis- 
 mounted and lain down. 
 
 " I believe they've done for me," said the fur- 
 trader faintly. "That arrow must have gone 
 deeper than I thought." 
 
 " You'd better let me see the wound, sir," said 
 Redhaud, " your shirt is covered with blood." 
 
 " No, no," said the wounded man, savagely ; 
 " let me rest see, I'm better now. You will find 
 a flask in the bag at my saddle-bow. Bring it here." 
 
 " I know that Dick the hunter is a good 
 hand at doctoring," said March. " What a pity 
 he is not here. We might carry you there, sir." 
 
 " Carry me," laughed the fur-trader fiercely ; 
 " no, I'll never be carried till I'm carried to my 
 grave. How far off is his place ? Where stays 
 he?" 
 
MACGREGOR WOUNDED. 373 
 
 " Four miles from this. I'll take you if you 
 can ride," said March. 
 
 "Ay, that I can, bravely," cried the trader, 
 who, having taken a deep draught of spirits, 
 seemed to be imbued with, new life. " Come, 
 young sir, mount;" 
 
 The trappers endeavoured to dissuade the violent 
 man from the attempt, but he could not be con- 
 trolled ; so March, hastily observing that he would 
 see him safe to the hunter's abode and return 
 without delay, mounted his horse and rode away, 
 followed by the wounded man. 
 
374 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 The Wounded Fur-Trader. 
 
 WHEN they reached the entrance to the cavern, 
 March and his companion dismounted ; but the 
 latter was so weak from loss of blood that he 
 stumbled at the foot of the track, and fell to the 
 earth insensible. 
 
 March ran hastily in for assistance, and was 
 not a little surprised to find Dick sitting alone 
 by the side of the fire, and so absorbed in the 
 perusal of a little book that he had not noticed 
 his entrance a very singular and unaccountable 
 piece of absence of mind in one so well trained in 
 the watchful ways of the backwoods. 
 
 " Ho ! Dick ! " cried the youth. 
 
 " What, March March Marston ! " exclaimed 
 the Wild Man, springing up, seizing him by the 
 shoulders, and gazing intently into his face, as if 
 to assure himself that he was not dreaming. 
 
 "Ay, no doubt I'm March Marston; though 
 how you came to find out my name I don't 
 know " 
 
 "Easy enough that, lad, when you leave your 
 mother's Bible behind ye/' cried Dick, with a 
 wild laugh. " She must be a good mother that 
 o' yours. Is she alive yet, boy ? " 
 
375 
 
 "That is she, an' well, I trust " 
 
 " An' your father/' interrupted Dick, " how's 
 he, lad, eh ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said March, frowning ; " he 
 forsook us fourteen years agone; but it's little 
 good talking o' such matters now, when there's a 
 poor fellow dyin' outside." 
 
 "Dyin'?" 
 
 " Ay, so it seems to me. I've brought him to 
 see if ye can stop the bleedin', but he's fainted, 
 and I can't lift " 
 
 Dick waited for no more, but, hastening out, 
 raised Macgregor in his arms, and carried him 
 into the inner cave, where Mary was lying sound 
 asleep on her lowly couch. 
 
 " Come, Mary, lass, make way for this poor 
 feller." 
 
 The child leaped up, and, throwing a deer-skin 
 round her, stepped aside to allow the wounded 
 man to be placed on her bed. Her eye imme- 
 diately fell on March, who stood in the entrance, 
 and she ran to him in surprise. 
 
 " What's de matter, March ? " 
 
 " Hush, Mary," said Dick, in a low voice ; 
 " we'll have to speak soft. Poor Macgregor won't 
 be long for this world, I'm affeared. Fetch me 
 the box o' things." 
 
 " You know him, then ? " whispered March, in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Ay, I've often bin to the Mountain Fort and 
 
376 THE WILD MAX OF THE WEST. 
 
 seed him there. See, he's comin' to. Put that 
 torch more behind me, lad. It'll be better for 
 him not to see me." 
 
 As he spoke the wounded man sighed faintly. 
 Opening his eyes, he said, "Where am I ?" 
 
 " Speak to him" whispered Dick, looking over 
 his shoulder at March, who advanced, and, kneel- 
 ing at the side of the couch, said : 
 
 " You're all right, Mr. Macgregor. I've brought 
 you to the hunter's home. He'll dress your 
 wound and take care of you, so make your mind 
 easy. But you'll have to keep quiet. You've 
 lost much blood." 
 
 The fur-trader turned round and seemed to fall 
 asleep, while Dick bound his wounds, and then, 
 leaving him to rest, he and March returned to 
 the other cave. 
 
 During that night Dick seemed in an unac- 
 countably excited state. Sometimes he sat down 
 by the fire and talked with March, in an absent 
 manner, on all kinds of subjects his adventures, 
 his intentions, his home at Pine Point ; but from 
 his looks it seemed as if his thoughts were other- 
 wise engaged, and occasionally he started up .and 
 paced the floor hurriedly, while his brows dark- 
 ened and his broad chest heaved as though he were 
 struggling with some powerful feeling or passion. 
 
 "Could it be," thought March, "that there 
 was some mysterious connection between Dick 
 and the wounded fur-trader ? " Not being able to 
 
377 
 
 find a satisfactory reply to the thought, he finally 
 dismissed it, and turned his attentions altogether 
 towards Mary, whose looks of surprise and con- 
 cern showed that she, too, was puzzled by the 
 behaviour of her adopted father. 
 
 During that night and all the next day the 
 wounded man grew rapidly worse, and March 
 stayed with him, partly because he felt a strong 
 interest in and pity for him, and partly because he 
 did not like to leave to Mary the duty of watching 
 a dying man. 
 
 Dick went out during the day in the same 
 excited state, and did not return till late in the 
 evening. During his absence, the dying man's 
 mind wandered frequently, and, in order to check 
 this as well as to comfort him, March read to him 
 from his mother's Bible. At times he seemed 
 to listen intently to the words that fell from 
 March's lips, but more frequently he lay in a state 
 apparently of stupor. 
 
 " Boy," said he, starting suddenly out of one 
 of those heavy slumbers, " what's the use of read- 
 ing the Bible to me ? I'm not a Christian, an' it's 
 too late now too late ! " 
 
 " The Bible tells me that ' now ' is God's time. 
 I forget where the words are, an' I can't find 
 'em," said March earnestly ; " but I know they're 
 in this book. Besides, don't you remember the 
 thief who was saved when he hung on the cross 
 in a dyin' state ? " 
 
378 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 The fur-trader shook his head slowly, and still 
 muttered, "Top late, too late." 
 
 March now became deeply anxious about the 
 dying man, who seemed to him like one sinking 
 in the sea, yet refusing to grasp the rope that was 
 flung to him. He turned over the sacred pages 
 hurriedly to find appropriate texts, and blamed 
 himself again and again for not having made him- 
 self better acquainted with the Word of God. 
 He also repeated all he could think of from 
 memory ; but still the dying man shook his head 
 and muttered, " Too late." Suddenly March bent 
 over him and said : 
 
 " Christ is able to save to the uttermost all 
 who come unto God through Him." 
 
 The fur-trader looked up in silence for a few 
 seconds. " Ay," said he, " many a time have I 
 heard the old minister at Pine Point say that." 
 
 f< Pine Point ! " exclaimed March, in surprise. 
 
 "Perhaps they're true, after all," continued 
 Macgregor, not noticing the interruption. " Oh ! 
 Mary, Mary, surely I did the uttermost when I 
 forsook ye. Let me see the words, boy ; are they 
 there ?" 
 
 A strange suspicion flashed suddenly on the 
 mind of March as he listened to these words, 
 and he trembled violently as he handed him the 
 book. 
 
 " What what's this ? Where got ye my wife's 
 Bible ? You must " (he added between his teeth, 
 
379 
 
 in a sudden burst of anger) have murdered my 
 boy." 
 
 " Father ! " exclaimed March, seizing Macgre- 
 gor's hand. 
 
 The dying man started up with a countenance 
 of ashy paleness, and, leaning on one elbow, gazed 
 earnestly into the youth's face u March ! can it 
 be my boy? " he fell back with a heavy groan. 
 The bandages had been loosened by the exertion, 
 and blood was pouring freely from his wound. 
 The case admitted of no delay. March hurriedly 
 attempted to stop the flow of the vital stream, 
 assisted by Mary, who had been sitting at the 
 foot of the couch bathed in tears during the fore- 
 going scene. 
 
 Just then Dick returned, and, seeing how mat- 
 ters stood, quickly stanched the wound ; but his 
 aid came too late. Macgregor, or rather Obadiah 
 Marston, opened his eyes but once after that, 
 and seemed as if he wished to speak. March 
 bent down quickly and put his ear close to his 
 mouth ; there was a faint whisper, " God bless 
 you, March, my son," and then all was still. 
 
 March gazed long and breathlessly at the dead 
 countenance ; then, looking slowly up in Dick's 
 face, he said, pointing to the dead man, " My 
 father ! " and fell insensible on the couch beside 
 him. 
 
 We will pass over the first few days that suc- 
 ceeded the event just narrated, during which poor 
 
380 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 March Marston went about the wild region in the 
 vicinity of the 'cave like one in a dream. It 
 may be imagined with what surprise the trappers 
 learned from him the near relationship that ex- 
 isted between himself and the fur-trader. They 
 felt and expressed the deepest sympathy with their 
 young comrade, and offered to accompany him 
 when he laid his father in the grave. But Dick 
 had firmly refused to allow the youth to bring the 
 trappers near his abode, so they forebore to press 
 him, and the last sad rites were performed by 
 himself and Dick alone. The grave was made in 
 the centre of a little green vale which lay like an 
 emerald in the heart of that rocky wilderness ; 
 and a little wooden cross, with the name and date 
 cut thereon by March, was erected at the head of 
 the low mound to mark the fur-trader's last lonely 
 resting-place. March Marston had never known 
 his father in early life, having been an infant 
 when he deserted his family ; and the little that 
 he had seen of him at the Mountain Fort, and 
 amid the wild scenes of the Rocky Mountains, 
 had not made a favourable impression on him. 
 But, now that he was gone, the natural instinct of 
 affection arose within his breast. He called to 
 remembrance the last few and sad hours which he 
 had spent by his parent's dying bed. He thought 
 of their last few words on the momentous con- 
 cerns of the soul, and of the eagerness with 
 which, at times, the dying man listened to the 
 
LOUIS THE TRAPPER. 381 
 
 life-giving Word of God ; and the tear of sorrow 
 that fell upon the grave, as he turned to quit that 
 solitary spot, was mingled with a tear of joy and 
 thankfulness that God had brought him there to 
 pour words of comfort and hope into his father's 
 dying ear. 
 
 That night he spent in the cave with Dick ; he 
 felt indisposed to join his old comrades just then. 
 The grave tenderness of his eccentric friend, and 
 the sympathy of little Mary, were more congenial 
 to him. 
 
 " March," said Dick, in a low sad tone, as they 
 sat beside the fire, " that funeral reminds' me o' 
 my friend I told ye of once. It's a lonesome grave 
 his, with nought but a wooden cross to mark it." 
 
 " Had you known him long, Dick ? " 
 
 " No, not long. He left the settlement in a 
 huff bein', I Vlieve, crossed in love, as I 
 told ye." 
 
 Dick paused, and clasping both hands over his 
 knee, gazed with a look of mingled sternness and 
 sorrow at the glowing fire. 
 
 "Did ye ever," he resumed, abruptly, "hear 
 o' a feller called Louis, who once lived at Pine 
 Point before ye was born, lad ; did ye ever hear 
 yer mother speak of him ? " 
 
 " Louis ? Yes well ; I believe I do think I've 
 heard the name before. Oh, yes ! People used 
 to say he was fond o' my mother when she was a 
 girl ; but I never heard her speak of him. Now ye 
 
382 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 mention it, I remember the only time I ever asked 
 her about it, she burst into tears and told me never 
 to speak of him again. Thadwick was his name 
 Louis Thadwick; but he was better known as 
 Louis the Trapper. But he's almost forgotten at 
 the settlement now ; it's so long ago. Every one 
 thinks him dead. Why d'ye ask ? " 
 
 " Think he's dead ? " repeated Dick, slowly. 
 " An' why not ? My poor friend that was killed 
 when he left his native place swore he'd never go 
 back, an' no more he did no more he did ; 
 though he little thought that death would step in 
 so soon to make him keep his word." 
 
 " Was Louis your friend who died ? " inquired 
 March, with much interest, and not a little pity ; 
 for he observed that his companion was deeply 
 affected. 
 
 Dick did not reply. His thoughts seemed to 
 be wandering again, so March forbore to in- 
 terrupt him, and, turning to Mary, said in a more 
 cheerful tone : 
 
 "Whether would ye like to go to Pine Point 
 settlement and stay with my mother, or that I 
 should come here and spend the winter with you 
 and Dick?" 
 
 Mary looked puzzled, and after some moments' 
 consideration replied, " Me don't know." Then, 
 looking up quickly, she added, "Which you 
 like?" 
 
 " Indeed, I must make the same reply, Mary, 
 
MARCH AND THE WILD MAN. 383 
 
 ' I don't know/ But, as I can't expect my friend 
 Dick to give up his wild life, I suppose I must 
 make up my mind to come here." 
 
 "March," said Dick, quickly, "I've changed 
 my mind, lad. It won't do. You'll have to spend 
 next winter at home any how ye can't spend it 
 with me." 
 
 Had a thunderbolt struck the earth between 
 March and Mary, they would not have been filled 
 with half so much consternation as they were on 
 hearing these words. It was plain that both had 
 thoroughly made up their minds that they were 
 to be together for many months to come. Dick 
 noted the effect of his remark, and a peculiar 
 frown crossed his countenance for a moment, but 
 it gave place to a smile, as he said, 
 
 " I'm sorry to disappoint ye, lad ; but the thing 
 cannot be." 
 
 " Cannot be ! " repeated March, in a tone of 
 exasperation, for he felt that this was an un- 
 warrantable piece of caprice on the part of his 
 friend ; surely you don't claim to be chief of the 
 Rocky Mountains ! If I choose to come an' spend 
 the winter in this region, you have no right to 
 prevent me. And if I offer to bring you furs and 
 venison, besides pretty good company, will ye be 
 such a surly knave as to refuse me a corner of 
 your cave ? " 
 
 " Nay, lad. Right- welcome would ye be, with 
 or without furs or venison ; but I mean to leave 
 
38-1' THE WILD MAX OF THE WEST. 
 
 the cave to quit this part of the country alto- 
 gether. The fact is, I'm tired of it, an' want a 
 change." 
 
 " Very good, all right, an' what's to hinder my 
 going with you ? I'm fond o' change myself. I'd 
 as soon go one way as another." 
 
 Dick shook his head. " It's o' no use, March, 
 I've my own reasons for desirin' to travel alone. 
 The thing cannot be." 
 
 This was said in such a decided tone that 
 March looked at Mary in dismay. He gathered 
 no consolation from her countenance, however. 
 
 "March/' said Dick, firmly, "I'm sorry to 
 grieve ye, lad, but it can't be helped. All I 
 can say is, that if ye choose to come back here 
 next summer you'll be heartily welcome, and I'll 
 engage that ye'll find me here; but I'm quite 
 sartin' ye won't want to come." 
 
 " Won't want to come ! I'll bet ye a hundred 
 thousand million dollars I'll want to come, ay, 
 and will come," cried March. 
 
 " Done ! " said Dick, seizing the youth's hand, 
 " an' Mary's a witness to the wager." 
 
 It is needless to say that the conversation did 
 not rest here. The greater part of that night, and 
 during great part of the week that March re- 
 mained there, he continued to press the Wild Man 
 of the West to alter his purpose, but without avail. 
 Each day he passed with his comrades, hunting 
 and trapping, and each night he bade them adieu 
 
THE DAY OF DEPARTURE FIXED. 385 
 
 and returned to sup and sleep in the cave, and, of 
 course, persecuted Dick all that time ; but Dick 
 was immoveable. 
 
 Of course, the trappers renewed their attempts to 
 get March to show them Dick's abode, but he per- 
 sistently refused, and they were too good-natured 
 to annoy him, and too honest to follow his trail, 
 which they might easily have done, had they been 
 so disposed. 
 
 At last the time arrived when it became necessary 
 that the trappers should return to Pine Point 
 settlement. In the midst of all their alarms and 
 fights they had found time to do, what Big Waller 
 termed, a " pretty considerable stroke o' business." 
 That is to say, they had killed a large number of 
 fur-bearing animals by means of trap, snare, and 
 gun, so that they were in a position to return 
 home with a heavy load of valuable skins. The 
 day of their departure was therefore arranged, 
 and March, mounting his steed, galloped, for the 
 last time, and with a heavy heart, towards the 
 cave of his friend Dick. 
 
 As he passed rapidly over the wild country, 
 and entered the gloomy recesses that surrounded 
 the Wild Man's home, he thought over the argu- 
 ments and persuasive speeches with which he 
 meant to make a last and, he still hoped, suc- 
 cessful appeal. But March might have spared 
 himself the trouble of all this thought, for when 
 he reached the cave Dick was absent. This 
 
386 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 grieved him deeply, because every preparation 
 had been made by his companions for starting 
 on their homeward journey that evening, so that 
 he had no time to spare. 
 
 Mary, was at home, however, so March felt a 
 little consoled, and, seating himself in his wonted 
 place beside the fire, he said : 
 
 "When will Dick be home, Mary?" 
 
 "Me no' can know Exactly. To-morray hiins 
 say, perhaps." 
 
 " Then it's all up/' sighed March, leaning reck- 
 lessly back against the wall, " all up ! Pm off 
 to-night, so I'll not be able to spend the winter 
 with you after all." 
 
 Had Mary burst into tears on hearing this, 
 March would have felt satisfied. Had she groaned 
 or sobbed, or even sighed, he would have experi- 
 enced some degree of relief to his annoyed and 
 disappointed spirit, but when Mary, instead of 
 any such demonstration, hung down her head so 
 that the heavy masses of her soft brown hair hid 
 her pretty face and said, in a tone which March 
 fancied was not very genuine " What a pity," he 
 became extremely exasperated and deemed himself 
 ill-used. 
 
 During the half-hour that succeeded he en- 
 deavoured to converse in a pleasant tone of voice, 
 but without success. At last he rose to go. 
 
 "Must you go 'way dis night?" said Mary 
 with a look of concern. 
 
MARCH TAKES LEAVE OF MARY. 387 
 
 "Ay, Mary, an' it's not much matter, for ye 
 don't seem to care." 
 
 The girl looked at him reproachfully, " You is 
 not please' with me, March why?" 
 
 The question puzzled the youth. He certainly 
 was displeased, but he could not make up his 
 mind to say that he was so because Mary had not 
 fallen into a state of violent grief at the prospect 
 of a separation. But the anxious gaze of Mary's 
 truthful blue eyes was too much for him, he sud- 
 denly grasped both her hands, and, kissing her 
 forehead, said : 
 
 "Mary, dear, I'm not displeased. I'm only 
 sorry, and sad, and annoyed, and miserable very 
 miserable I can scarcely tell why. I suppose 
 I'm not well, or I'm cross, or something or other. 
 But this I know, Mary, Dick has invited me to 
 come back to see him next year, and I certainly 
 shall come if life and limb hold out till then." 
 
 Mary's eyes filled with tears, and as she smiled 
 through them, March, being very near her face, 
 beheld in each eye an excessively miniature por- 
 trait of himself gazing out at him lovingly. 
 
 " Perhaps ! " faltered Mary, " you no' want for 
 come when it be nixt year." 
 
 Poor March was overwhelmed again, absolutely 
 disgusted, that she could entertain a doubt upon 
 that point ! 
 
 " We shall see," he cried, with a sudden im- 
 pulse, pressing his lips again to her forehead. 
 2 c 2 
 
388 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 "May the Great Spirit bless and keep you. 
 Good-bye, Mary, till next spring." 
 
 March burst away from her, rushed out of the 
 cave in a tumult of conflicting feelings and great 
 resolves, and despite a little stiffness that still 
 remained to remind him of his late accident, 
 flung himself into the saddle with a bound that 
 would have done credit to the Wild Man himself, 
 and galloped down the rocky gorge at a pace that 
 threatened a sudden and total smash to horse and 
 man. Had any of his old comrades or friends 
 witnessed that burst, they would certainly have 
 said that March Marston was mad, madder, per- 
 haps, than the most obstreperous March-hare 
 that ever marched madly through the wild regions 
 of insanity. 
 
PINE POINT AGAIN. 389 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 March Marston at Home His astonishing Behaviour 
 Narration of his Extraordinary Adventures Widow 
 Marston's Bower The Rendezvous of the Trappers 
 A strange Interruption to March's Narrative A Wild 
 Surprise and Recovery of a Lost Lover Great Destruc- 
 tion of Household Goods A Double Wedding and 
 Tremendous ExcitementThe Wild Man of the West 
 the Wisest Man in Pine Point Settlement. 
 
 THREE months passed away, and at the end of 
 that period March Marston found himself back 
 again in Pine Point settlement, sitting on a low 
 stool at that fireside where the yelling and kick- 
 ing days of his infancy had been spent, and 
 looking up in the face of that buxom, blue-eyed 
 mother, with whom he had been wont to hold 
 philosophical converse in regard to fighting and 
 other knotty not to say naughty questions, in 
 those bright but stormy days of childhood when 
 he stood exactly " two-foot-ten," and when he 
 looked and felt as if he stood upwards of ten 
 feet two ! 
 
 Three months passed away, and during the 
 passage of that period March Marston's bosom 
 became a theatre in which, unseen by the naked 
 eye, were a legion of spirits, good, middling, and 
 bad, among whom were hope, fear, despair, joy, 
 fun, delight, interest, surprise, mischief, exaspera- 
 tion, and a military demon named General Jollity, 
 
390 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 who overbore and browbeat all the rest by turns. 
 These scampered through his brain and tore up 
 his heart and tumbled about in his throat and 
 lungs, and maintained a furious harlequinade,, 
 and in short behaved in a way that was quite 
 disgraceful, and that caused the poor young man 
 alternately to amuse, annoy, astonish, and stun 
 his comrades, who beheld the exterior results of 
 those private theatricals, but had no conception 
 of the terrific combats that took place so fre- 
 quently on the stage within. 
 
 During those three months, March saw many 
 things. He saw his old friends the prairie-dogs, 
 and the prong-horned antelopes, and the grisly 
 bears, and the wolves : more than that, he chased, 
 and shot, and ate many of them. He also saw 
 clouds of locusts flying high in the air, so thick 
 that they sometimes darkened the very sky, and 
 herds of buffaloes so large that they often darkened 
 the whole plain. 
 
 During those three months March learned a 
 good deal. He learned that there was much 
 more of every sort of thing in this world than 
 he had had any idea of that there was much, 
 very much, to be thankful for that there were 
 many, very many, things to be grieved for, and 
 many also to be glad about that the fields of 
 knowledge were inimitably large, and that his 
 own individual acquirements were preposterously, 
 humblingly, small ! 
 
 He thought much, too. He thought of the 
 
MARCH RELATES HIS ADVENTURES. 391 
 
 past, present, and future in quite a surprising 
 way. He thought of his mother and her loneli- 
 ness, of Dick and his obstinacy, of Mary and her 
 sweetness, of the Wild Man of the West and his 
 invisibility. When this latter thought arose, it 
 had the effect invariably of rousing within him 
 demon Despair ; also General Jollity, for the ge- 
 neral had a particular spite against that demon, 
 and, whenever he showed symptoms of vitality, 
 attacked him with a species of frenzy that was quite 
 dreadful to feel, and the outward manifestations 
 of which were such as to cause the trappers to 
 fear seriously that the poor youth had " gone out 
 of his mind/' as they expressed it ; but they were 
 wrong quite wrong it was only the natural 
 consequence of those demons and sprites having 
 gone into his mind, where they were behaving 
 themselves as Bounce, when March made him 
 his confidant, said with " horrible obstropolo- 
 sity." 
 
 Well, as we have said, March was seated on a 
 low stool, looking up in his mother's face. He 
 had already been three days at home, and, during 
 every spare minute he had, he sat himself down 
 on the same stool, and went on with his inter- 
 minable narrations of the extraordinary adven- 
 tures through which he had passed while among 
 the Rocky Mountains and out upon the great 
 prairies. 
 
 Widow Marston for she knew that she was a 
 widow now, though the knowledge added but 
 
39,2 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST, 
 
 little to the feeling of widowhood to which she 
 had been doomed for so many years, widow 
 Marston we say, listened to this interminable 
 narration with untiring patience and unmitigated 
 pleasure. There was as yet no symptom of the 
 narrative drawing to a close, neither was there 
 the slightest evidence of the widow Marston be- 
 coming wearied. We have seen a cat worried 
 and pulled and poked by its kitten almost beyond 
 endurance, and we have observed that the cat 
 endured it meekly nay, evidently rejoiced in 
 the annoyance : it was pleasurable pain. As it 
 is with feline, so is it with human mothers. Their 
 love overbears and outweighs everything. Ah ! 
 good cause have the rugged males of this world 
 to rejoice that such is the fact; and although 
 they know the fact well, we hold that it is cal- 
 culated to improve the health and refresh the 
 spirit of men to have that fact brought promi- 
 nently and pointedly to their remembrance ! 
 
 Had March Marston talked the most unut- 
 terable balderdash, widow Marston would have 
 listened with unwearied delight as long, we be- 
 lieve, as her eyes and ears could do their duty. 
 But March did not talk balderdash. For a mad- 
 man, he spoke a great deal of common, besides a 
 considerable amount of uncommon sense, and his 
 mother listened with intelligent interest; com- 
 menting on what he said in her quiet way, as she 
 found opportunity we say this advisedly, for 
 
MARCH AND HIS MOTHER. 393 
 
 opportunities were not so frequent as one might 
 suppose. March had always been possessed of a 
 glib tongue, and he seemed, as Bounce remarked, 
 to have oiled the hinges since his return to Pine 
 Point settlement. 
 
 " Mother/' said March, after a short pause that 
 had succeeded an unusually long burst, " do you 
 know it's only a few months since I left you to 
 go to this trip to the Mountains ? " 
 
 " I know it well, my son," replied the widow, 
 smiling at the question. 
 
 " And do you know," he continued, " that it 
 seems to me more like five years? When I 
 think of all that I've heard and all that I've done, 
 and all that I've seen, it seems to me as if it had 
 took as if it must have took five years to have 
 heard and done and seen it all in ! " 
 
 "And yet," said the widow, musingly, "you 
 failed to see the Wild Man o' the .West after 
 all." 
 
 " Mother, I'll be angry with you if you say 
 that again." 
 
 "Well, I won't," she replied, taking his hand 
 in hers and stroking it. " Tell me again, March, 
 about Dick of the Cave and his little girl. I 
 like to hear about them ; they were so kind to 
 you, and that Dick, from your account, seems to 
 be such a fine fellow; tell me all about them 
 over again." 
 
 " I will, mother," said March, clearing his 
 
394 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 throat, and commencing in a tone that showed 
 clearly his intention of going on indefinitely. 
 
 Widow Marston's cottage had a pretty, com- 
 fortable-looking flower-garden behind it. In front 
 the windows looked out upon a portion of the 
 native woods which had been left standing when 
 the spot for the settlement was cleared. In the 
 back garden there was a bower which the widow's 
 brother, the blacksmith, had erected, and the 
 creepers on which had been planted by the 
 widow's own hand when she was Mary West, 
 the belle of the settlement. In this bower, 
 which was a capacious one, sat a number of 
 sedate, quiet, jolly, conversable fellows, nearly all 
 of whom smoked, and one of whom sketched. 
 They were our friends Redhand, Bounce, Big 
 Waller, Gibault, Hawkswing, and Bertram. 
 
 It is observable among men who travel long in 
 company together in a wild country, that, when 
 they return again to civilized, or to semi-civilized 
 life, they feel a strong inclination to draw closer 
 together, either from the force of habit, or sym- 
 pathy, or both. On reaching Pine Point the 
 trappers after visiting their friends and old chums, 
 drew together again as if by a species of electrical 
 attraction. In whatever manner they chanced 
 to spend their days, they for the first week at 
 least found themselves trending gradually each 
 evening a little before sunset to a common 
 centre. 
 
THE TRAPPERS IN THE BOWER. 395 
 
 Widow Marston was always at home. March 
 Marston was always with his mother deep in 
 his long-winded yarns. The bower was always 
 invitingly open in the back garden : hence the 
 bower was the regular rendezvous of the trappers. 
 It was a splendid evening that on which we now 
 see them assembled there. The sun was just 
 about to set in a flood of golden clouds. Birds, 
 wild-fowl, and frogs held an uproarious concert 
 in wood and swamp, and the autumnal foliage 
 glowed richly in the slanting beams as it hung 
 motionless in the still atmosphere. 
 
 "D'ye know/ 5 said Redhand, removing his 
 pipe for a few minutes and blowing aside the 
 heavy wreaths of tobacco-smoke that seemed un- 
 willing to ascend and dissipate themselves, " d'ye 
 know, now that this trip's over, Fm inclined to 
 think it's about the roughest one Fve had for 
 many a year. An' it's a cur'ous fact, that the 
 rougher a trip is the more I like it." 
 
 Bertram, who was (as a matter of course) sketch- 
 ing, turned over a few leaves and made a note of 
 the observation. 
 
 "I guess it was pretty much of a middlin' jolly 
 one/' said Big Waller, smoking enthusiastically, 
 and with an expression of intense satisfaction on 
 his weather-beaten countenance. 
 
 " An' profitable," observed Bounce, gravely. 
 
 "Ah! oui, ver' prof 'table," echoed Gibault. 
 " Dat is de main ting. We have git plenty skins, 
 
396 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 an' have bring horn' our own skins, w'ich I was 
 not moche sure of one or two times." 
 
 "True," said Bounce; " that's wot we've got 
 for to be thankful for. Skins is skins ; but the 
 skin of a human ain't to be put in the balance 
 wi' the skin o' a beaver, d'ye see ? " 
 
 Bounce glanced at Hawkswing as he spoke, 
 but the Indian only looked stolid and smoked 
 solemnly. 
 
 "Yes," he continued, "a whole skin's better 
 nor a broken one, an' it's well to bring back a 
 whole one, though I'm not agoin' for to deny 
 that there's some advantage in bringing back 
 other sorts o' skins too, d'ye see, w'ich goes for 
 
 to prove the true feelosophy of the fact, d'ye 
 j PP ? " 
 
 oCU ~~~~ 
 
 Bounce paused, in the midst of his mental 
 energy, to take a parenthetic whiff. His thoughts, 
 however, seemed too deep for utterance, for he 
 subsided quietly into a state of silent fumigation. 
 
 " What a splendidly picturesque scene ! " ex- 
 claimed Bertram, pushing back his brigandish 
 hat, in order the better to get a view, at arm's 
 length, of his sketch and compare it with the 
 original. 
 
 "Wot's the meanin' o' pikter-esk?" inquired 
 Bounce. 
 
 Theodore Bertram looked and felt puzzled. 
 He was not the first man who thought that he 
 knew the signification of terms well, and found 
 
A SURPRISE. 397 
 
 himself much perplexed on being suddenly called 
 upon to give a correct definition of a well-known 
 word. While he is labouring to enlighten his 
 friend, we shall leave the bower and return to the 
 hall, or kitchen, or reception-room, for it might 
 be appropriately designated by any of these terms, 
 where March is, as usual, engaged in expound- 
 ing backwoods' life to his mother. We have 
 only to pass through the open door and are with 
 them at once. Cottages in Pine Point settlement 
 were of simple construction : the front door 
 opened out of one side of the hall, the back door 
 out of the other. As the weather was mild, both 
 were wide open. 
 
 March had just reached an intensely interesting 
 point in his narrative, and was describing, with 
 flashing eyes and heightened colour, his first in- 
 terview with the " Vision in Leather/' when his 
 attention was attracted by the sound of horses' 
 hoofs coming at a rapid pace along the road that 
 led to the cottage. The wood above referred to 
 hid any object approaching by the road until 
 within fifty yards or so of the front door. 
 
 " They seem in a hurry, whoever they be," 
 said March, as he and his mother rose and 
 hastened to the door, " an' there's more than one 
 rider, if I've not forgot how to judge by sounds. 
 I should say that there's HALLO ! " 
 
 The exclamation was not unnatural by any 
 means, for at that moment a very remarkable 
 
398 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 horseman dashed round the point of the wood and 
 galloped towards the cottage. Both man and 
 horse were gigantic. The former wore no cap, 
 and his voluminous brown locks floated wildly 
 behind him. On they came with a heavy, thun- 
 derous tread, stones, sticks, and dust flying from 
 the charger's heels. There was a rude paling in 
 front of the cottage. The noble horse put its 
 ears forward as it came up, took two or three 
 short strides, and went over with the light bound 
 of a deer, showing that the strength of bone, 
 muscle, and sinew was in proportion to the 
 colossal size of the animal. The gravel inside 
 the paling flew like splashing water as they 
 alighted with a crash, and widow Marston, 
 uttering a faint cry, shrank within the doorway 
 as the wild horseman seemed about to launch 
 himself, with Quixotic recklessness, against the 
 cottage. 
 
 "Dick!" shouted March, who stared like one 
 thunderstruck as the rider leaped from the saddle 
 to the ground, sprang with a single bound to the 
 widow's side, seized her right hand in both of 
 his, and, stooping down, gazed intently into her 
 alarmed countenance. Suddenly the blood rushed 
 violently to her temples, as the man pronounced 
 her name in a low, deep tone, and with a look of 
 wild surprise mingled with terror, she exclaimed, 
 
 " Louis 1 " 
 
 The colour fled from her cheeks, and uttering a 
 
THE RETURNED LOVER. 399 
 
 piercing cry, she fell forward on the breast of her 
 long-lost lover. 
 
 March Marston stood for some time helpless ; 
 but he found his voice just as Eedhand and the 
 other trappers, rushing through the house, burst 
 upon the scene " Dick !" shouted March again, 
 in the highest pitch of amazement. 
 
 " THE WILD MAN o' THE WEST ! " roared 
 Bounce, with the expression of one who believes 
 he gazes on a ghost. 
 
 " Fetch a drop o' water, one o' you fellers," 
 said the Wild Man, looking anxiously at the pale 
 face that rested on his arm. 
 
 Every one darted off to obey, excepting Ber- 
 tram, who, with eyes almost starting out of their 
 sockets, was already seated on the paling, sketch- 
 ing the scene; for he entertained an irresistible 
 belief that the Wild Man of the West would, as 
 he had already done more than once, vanish from 
 the spot before he could get him transferred to 
 the pages of his immortal book. 
 
 Trappers are undoubtedly men who can act 
 with vigorous promptitude in their own peculiar 
 sphere; but when out of that sphere, they are 
 rather clumsy and awkward. Had they been in 
 the forest, each man would have fetched a draught 
 of clear water from the nearest spring with the 
 utmost celerity ; but, being in a settlement, they 
 knew not where to turn. Big Waller dashed 
 towards a very small pond which lay near the 
 
400 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 cottage, and dipping his cap into it, brought up a 
 compound of diluted mud and chickweed. Gibault 
 made an attempt on a tiny rivulet with the like 
 success, which was not surprising, seeing that its 
 fountain-head lay at the bottom of the said pond. 
 Bounce and Hawkswing bolted into the cottage in 
 search of the needful fluid, but, being unused to 
 furniture, they upset three chairs and a small 
 table in their haste, and scattered on the floor a 
 mass of crockery, with a crash that made them 
 feel as if they had been the means of causing some 
 dire domestic calamity, and which almost terri- 
 fied the household kitten into fits. 
 
 Then Bounce made a hopeful grasp at a teapot, 
 which, having happily been placed on a side table, 
 had survived the wreck of its contemporary cups 
 and saucers, and the Indian made an insane effort 
 to wrench the top off a butter-churn, in the belief 
 that it contained a well-spring of water. 
 
 Of all the party old Kedhand alone stood still, 
 with his bald head glistening in the last rays of 
 the sinking sun, and his kindly face wrinkled all 
 over with a sympathetic snrile. He knew well 
 that the young widow would soon recover, with 
 or without the aid of water ; so he smoked his 
 pipe complacently, leaned against the door-post, 
 and looked on. 
 
 He was right. In a few minutes Mrs. Marston 
 recovered, and was tenderly led into the cottage 
 by her old lover, Louis Thadwick, or, as we still 
 
WIDOW MARSTON AND THE WILD MAN. 401 
 
 prefer to call him, the Wild Man of tlie West. 
 There, seated by her side, in the midst of the 
 wreck and debris of her household goods, the 
 Wild Man, quite regardless of appearances, began 
 boldly to tell the same old tale, and commit the 
 same offence, that he told and committed upwards 
 of sixteen years before, when he was Louis the 
 Trapper, and she was Mary West. 
 
 Seeing what was going forward, the judicious 
 trappers and the enthusiastic artist considerately 
 retired to the bower behind the house. What trans- 
 pired at that strange interview no one can tell, for 
 no one was present except the kitten. That creature, 
 having recovered from its consternation, discovered, 
 to its inexpressible joy, that, an enormous jug having 
 been smashed by Bounce along with the other 
 things, the floor was covered in part with a lakelet of 
 rich cream. With almost closed eyes, intermit- 
 tent purring, quick-lapping tongue, and occasional 
 indications of a tendency to choke, that fortunate 
 animal revelled in this unexpected flood of delec- 
 tation, and listened to the conversation; but, not 
 being gifted with the power of speech, it never 
 divulged what was said at least, to human ears, 
 though we are by no means sure that it did not 
 create a considerable amount of talk among the 
 cat-population of the settlement. 
 
 Be this as it may, when the Wild Man at 
 length opened the door, and cried, "Come in, 
 lads its all right," they found the widow Mar- 
 
 2 D 
 
402 THE AYILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 ston with confusion and happiness beaming on 
 her countenance, and the Wild Man himself in a 
 condition that fully justified Bounce's suggestion 
 that they had better send for a straight-waistcoat 
 or a pair of handcuffs. As for March, he had all 
 along been, and still was, speechless. That the 
 Wild Man of the West was Dick, and Dick the 
 Wild Man of the West, and that both should 
 come home at the same time in one body, and 
 propose to marry his mother, was past belief, so 
 of course he didn't believe it. 
 
 " Hallo ! wait a bit ; I do b'lieve I was for- 
 getting" cried the Wild Man, springing up in his 
 own violent impulsive way, upsetting his chair (as 
 a matter of course, being unused to such deli- 
 cacies), dashing through the lake of cream to the 
 all but annihilation of the kitten, opening the 
 door, and giving vent to a shrill whistle. 
 
 All rushed out to witness the result. They 
 were prepared for anything now from a mad 
 bison to a red warrior's ghost, and would have 
 been rather disappointed had anything feebler 
 appeared. 
 
 Immediately there was a clatter of hoofs ; a 
 beautiful white pony galloped round the corner of 
 the wood, and made straight for the cottage. 
 Seated thereon was the vision in leather not 
 seated as a woman sits, but after the fashion of 
 her own adopted father, and having on her leathern 
 dress with a pair of long leggings highly orna- 
 
MARCH AND THE VISION. 403 
 
 mented with porcupine- quills and bead-work. The 
 vision leaped the fence like her father, bounded 
 from her pony as he had done, and rushed into 
 the Wild Man's arms, exclaiming, " Be she here, 
 an' well, dear fader ? " 
 
 "Ay, all right," he replied ; but he had no time 
 to say more, for at that moment March Marston. 
 darted at the vision, seized one of her hands, put 
 his arm round her waist, and swung her, rather 
 than led her, into his mother's presence. 
 
 " Here's Mary, mother ! " cried March, with a 
 very howl of delight. 
 
 The widow had already guessed it. She rose 
 and extended her arms. Mary gazed for one 
 moment eagerly at her and then rushed into 
 them. Turning sharp round, March threw his 
 arms round Bounce's neck and embraced him for 
 want of a better subject; then hurling him aside 
 he gave another shout, and began to dance a 
 violent horn-pipe on the floor, to the still farther 
 horrification of the kitten (which was now a feline 
 maniac), and the general scatteratioii of the min- 
 gled mass of crockery and cream. Seeing this, 
 Bounce uttered an hysterical cheer. Hawks- 
 wing, being excited beyond even savage en- 
 durance, drew his scalping-knife, yelled the war- 
 cry, and burst into the war-dance of the Seneca 
 Indians. In short, the widow's cottage became 
 the theatre of a scene that would have done credit 
 to the violent wards of a lunatic asylum a scene, 
 
404 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 which is utterly beyond the delineative powers 
 of pen or pencil a scene which defies description, 
 repudiates adequate conception, and will dwell for 
 ever on the memories of those who took part in 
 it like the wild phantasmagoria of a tremendous 
 dream ! 
 
 # -jf -x- * 
 
 Of course, a wild man could not be induced, 
 like an ordinary mortal, to wait a reasonable time 
 in order to give his bride an opportunity of pre- 
 paring her trousseau. He was a self-willed man, 
 and a man of a strong mind. He insisted upon 
 being married " out of hand, and have done with 
 it." So he was married whether " out of hand" 
 or not we cannot tell by the excellent clergyman 
 of Pine Point settlement. On the same day, and 
 the same hour, March Marston was married 
 " out of hand," also, no doubt to the vision in 
 leather ! 
 
 There was something rather precipitate in these 
 proceedings, unquestionably ; but those who feel 
 disposed to object to them must bear in mind, 
 first, that backwoodsmen are addicted to pre- 
 cipitancy at times ; and, secondly, that facts can- 
 not be altered in order to please the fastidious 
 taste of the so-called civilized world. 
 
 Public opinion in the settlement was strongly 
 in favour of the doings of the Wild Man of the 
 West. Delay was deemed by all to be unne- 
 cessary, and all the more so that the doable 
 
THE WEDDING FESTIVITIES. 405 
 
 wedding-day was to be celebrated as a species of 
 public event. 
 
 The romance connected with the previous life 
 of Dick, and especially his singular and unexpected 
 return to his first love, created quite a sensation, 
 even in a region in which wild deeds and wonder- 
 ful events were so common that it required a man 
 to be a real hero to enable him to rise conspicuous 
 above his fellows. Many trappers came in from 
 a considerable distance to take part in the re- 
 joicings of that day, and from the dance which 
 followed the ceremony there was not absent a 
 living creature belonging to the settlement. 
 
 Every dog was there, of course, adding its vocal 
 melody to the dulcet tones of the blacksmith's 
 violin. Even the cats of the settlement were 
 present, including that celebrated kitten which 
 had been reduced to a state of drivelling im- 
 becility by the furious advent of the Wild Man. 
 Owls and other sagacious birds also came from 
 afar to see the fun, attracted by the light of the 
 fire ; for the ball-room was the green sward of the 
 forest, which was illuminated for the occasion by 
 a bonfire that would have roasted a megatherium 
 whole, and also would have furnished accommo- 
 dation for a pot large enough to boil an elephant. 
 Don't think, reader, in the vanity of your heart, 
 that you have conceived that fire ! You have not, 
 as a Yankee would say, the most distant concep- 
 tion of the small end of a notion of what it was ! 
 
406 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 A hundred brawny arms, accustomed to wield the 
 broad axe, had lent their aid to rear the mighty 
 pile and feed the ravening flame. 
 
 It was kindled on a wide level plot in the out- 
 skirts of the settlement, around which the trees 
 spread their sheltering arms. On a plank raised 
 on two casks sat the blacksmith with his fiddle. 
 The carpenter sat beside him with a kettle-drum 
 more literally a kettle-drum even than the real 
 thing, for that drum was a kettle ! On a little 
 mound that rose in the centre of the plot sat, in 
 state, Dick and Mary, March and the vision in 
 leather, their respective thrones being empty 
 flour- casks. Around them danced the youth and 
 beauty of the settlement. These were inclosed 
 by a dense circle, composed of patriarchal, middle- 
 aged, and extremely juvenile admirers. The back- 
 ground of the picture was filled up with the 
 monstrous fire which saturated that spot in the 
 forest with light bright as the broadest day. 
 The extreme foreground was composed of the 
 trunk of a fallen tree, on which sat our friend 
 the artist, delineating the whole with the eager- 
 ness of an enthusiast who had at last fallen upon 
 a scene truly worthy of his genius. 
 
 How Bounce did dance, to be sure ! How the 
 young trappers and the blooming backwoods' 
 maidens did whirl and bound, on heel and toe, 
 and, to a large extent, on the whole sole of the 
 foot ! Yes, their souls were in the work, and 
 
THE WEDDING FESTIVITIES. 407 
 
 their spirits too ; and that although there was not 
 a drop of spirits in the settlement. Happily, 
 owing to the unaccountable delay of a provision - 
 boat, there was not a glass of " fire-water " in the 
 place at that time. The whole affair was got up, 
 carried on, and concluded on tea. It was a great 
 teetotal gathering, which would have drawn tears 
 of joy from the heart of Father Mathew and all 
 his successors, whether Romanist or Protestant, 
 had they witnessed it. 
 
 Yet the excitement was tremendous. The Wild 
 Man of the West, strange to say, arid, owing to 
 some peculiar contradictoriness of character which 
 was unaccountable, was almost the only sane man 
 of the whole party. He flung himself on the 
 ground beside his wife, and locking his arm round 
 the tough root of a pine-tree refused to budge 
 from the spot. As the united efforts of all the 
 men who could lay hold of him at one time 
 failed to root him up, he was suffered to lie there 
 and amuse himself by watching the dancers, 
 looking up occasionally at Mary's blue eyes, and 
 playing with such of the juveniles as he could 
 attract within the reach of his long arm. 
 
 As for March Marston, he was mad now if ever 
 he had been so in his life ! He danced with all 
 the girls, and wrestled with all the men, and 
 played hide-and-seek with all the boys, and fra- 
 ternized with all the old people, and chased all 
 the dogs, and astonished, not to say horrified, all 
 
408 THE WILD MAN OF THE WEST. 
 
 the cats. Yet, although - he did all this, he did 
 not neglect the vision in leather, by no manner 
 of means. 
 
 Long before the dawn of early morning that 
 jovial party drank a parting cup of cold tea, and, 
 dispersing to their several homes, left the field in 
 possession of the village curs. 
 
 Now, dear reader with a feeling of sadness we 
 write it all things must have an end ! We make 
 this unquestionable assertion in order to break to 
 you, as gently as may be, the news that our tale 
 has reached its close. Had we taken in hand to 
 write the life and adventures of our hero and his 
 friends from first to last, we should have had to 
 prepare pens, ink, and paper, for a work equal in 
 size to the " Encyclopaedia Britannica." We have 
 only detailed one or two episodes in their wild 
 career. What they did, and said, and saw in after 
 years, must be left to future historians, or to the 
 imagination of romantic readers. This only will 
 we say in conclusion, that of all the men who dwelt 
 in Pine Point settlement, for many years after the 
 events narrated in these pages, the kindest, the 
 wisest, the gentlest, the heartiest, the wildest, and 
 the most courageous, was the Wild Man of the 
 West. 
 
 COX AND TVYMAN, PRINTERS, GREAT Q.UEEN STREET, LONDON. 
 
YB 72747