The Last of the Chiefs: A Story of the Great Sioux War by Joseph A. Altsheler
Chapter IXThe Timber Wolves
The cold increased, although snow fell but little, which Dickconsidered good luck, chiefly on Albert's account. He wanted thehardening process to continue and not to be checked by thaws andpermeating dampness. Meanwhile, they plunged with all the energyand fire of youth into the task of fur hunting. They had alreadydone much in that respect, but now it was undertaken as avocation. They became less scrupulous about sparing thebuffaloes, and they shot more than twenty in the defiles of themountains, gathering a fine lot of robes. Several more skins ofthe bear, grizzly, and silver tip were added to their collection,and the elk also furnished an additional store. Many wolverineswere taken in dead falls and snares, and their skins were addedto the rapidly growing heap.
They baited the trap gun once more, hoping that a fifth cougarmight prove rash enough to dare it. No cougar came, but on thethird night a scornful grizzly swallowed the deer meat as atidbit, and got a bullet in the neck for his carelessness. Inhis rage, he tore the trap to pieces and tossed the rifle to oneside, but, fortunately, he did not injure the valuable weapon,his attention turning instantly to something else. Later on theboys dispatched him as he lay wounded upon the ground.
Their old clothing was now about worn out and it also becamenecessary to provide garments of another kind in order to guardagainst the great cold. Here their furs became invaluable; theymade moccasins, leggings, caps, and coats alike of them, oftencrude in construction, but always warm.
They found the beaver father in the mountains, as Dick hadsurmised, and trapped them in great abundance. This was by fartheir most valuable discovery, and they soon had a pack of sixtyskins, which Dick said would be worth more than a thousanddollars in any good market. They also made destructive inroadsupon the timber wolves, the hides of which were more valuablethan those of any other wolf. In fact, they made such havoc thatthe shrewd timber wolf deserted the valley almost entirely.
As the boys now made their fur hunting a business, they attendedto every detail with the greatest care. They always removed theskin immediately after the death of the animal, or, if taken in atrap, as soon after as possible. Every particle of fat or fleshwas removed from the inside of the skin, and they were careful atthe same time never to cut into the skin itself, as they knewthat the piercing of a fur with a knife would injure its valuegreatly. Then the skin was put to dry in a cold, airy place,free alike from the rays of the sun or the heat of a fire. Theybuilt near the cabin a high scaffold for such purposes, too highand strong for any wild beast to tear down or to reach the fursupon it. Then they built above this on additional poles astrongly thatched bark roof that would protect the skins fromrain, and there they cured them in security.
"I've heard," said Dick, "that some trappers put preparations orcompounds on the skins in order to cure them, but since we don'thave any preparations or compounds we won't use them. Besides,our furs seem to cure up well enough without them."
Dick was right. The cold, dry air of the mountains cured themadmirably. Two or three times they thought to help along theprocess by rubbing salt upon the inner sides. They could alwaysget plenty of salt by boiling out water from the salt springs,but as they seemed to do as well without it, they ceased to takethe trouble.
The boys were so absorbed now in their interesting and profitabletasks that they lost all count of the days. They knew they werefar advanced into a splendid open winter, but it is probably thatthey could not have guessed within a week of the exact day.However, that was a question of which they thought little.Albert's health and strength continued to improve, and with themental stimulus added to the physical, the tide of life wasflowing very high for both.
They now undertook a new work in order to facilitate theirtrapping operations. The beaver stream, and another that theyfound a little later, ran far back into the mountains, and thebest trapping place was about ten miles away. After a day's workaround the beaver pond, they had to choose between a long journeyin the night to the cabin or sleeping in the open, the latter nota pleasant thing since the nights had become so cold. Hence,they began the erection of a bark shanty in a well-sheltered covenear the most important of the beaver localities. This was awork of much labor, but, as in all other cases, they persisteduntil the result was achieved triumphantly.
They drove two stout, forked poles deep into the ground, leavinga projection of about eight feet above the earth. The polesthemselves were about eight feet apart. From fork to fork theyplaced a strong ridgepole. Then they rested against theridgepole from either side other and smaller poles at an angle offorty or fifty degrees. The sloping poles were about a foot anda half apart. These poles were like the scantling or insideframework of a wooden house and they covered it all with spruceand birch bark, beginning at the bottom and allowing each pieceto overlap the one beneath it, after the fashion of a shingledroof. They secured pieces partly with wooden pegs and partlywith other and heavier wooden poles leaned against them. One endof the shelter was closed up with bark wholly, secured withwooden pegs, and the other end was left open in order that itstenants might face the fire which would be built three or fourfeet in front of it. They packed the floor with dead leaves, andput on the top of the leaves a layer of thick bark with thesmooth side upward.
The bark shanty was within a clump of trees, and its open sidewas not fifteen feet from the face of an abrupt cliff. Hencethere was never any wind to drive the smoke from the fire backinto their faces, and, wrapped in their furs, they slept assnugly in the shanty as if they had been in the cabin itself.But they were too wise to leave anything there in their absence,knowing that it was not sufficient protection against the largerwild animals. In fact, a big grizzly, one night when they wereat the cabin, thrust his nose into the shanty and, lumberingabout in an awkward and perhaps frightened manner, knocked offhalf of one of the bark sides. It took nearly a day's work torepair the damage, and it put Dick in an ill humor.
"I'd like to get a shot at that bear!" he exclaimed. "He had nobusiness trying to come into a house when he was not invited."
"But he is an older settler than we are," said Albert, in awhimsical tone.
Dick did get a shot at a bear a few days later, and it was agrizzly, at that. The wound was not fatal, and the animal cameon with great courage and ferocity. A second shot from Dick didnot stop him and the boy was in great danger. But Albert, whowas near, sent two heavy bullets, one after the other, into thebeast, and he toppled over, dying. It was characteristic of thehardy life they were leading and its tendency toward therepression of words and emotion that Dick merely uttered a brief,"Thanks, Al, you were just in time," and Albert nodded in reply.
The skin of old Ephraim went to join that of his brother who hadbeen taken sometime before, and Dick himself shot a little latera third, which contributed a fine skin.
The boys did not know how hard they were really working, buttheir appetites would have bee a fine gauge. Toiling incessantlyin a crisp, cold air, as pure as any that the world affords, theywere nearly always hungry. Fortunately, the happy valley, theirown skill and courage, and the supplies that Dick had broughtfrom the last wagon train furnished them an unlimited larder.Game of great variety was their staple, but they had both flourand meal, from which, though they were sparing of their use, theymade cakes now and then. They had several ways of preparing theIndian meal that Dick had taken from the wagon. They would boilit for about an hour, then, after it cooled, would mix it withthe fat of game and fry it, after which the compound was eaten inslices. They also made mealcakes, johnnycakes and hoecakes.
Albert was fond of fish, especially of the fine trout that theycaught in the little river, and soon he invented or discovered away of cooking them that provided an uncommon delicacy for theirtable. He would slit the trout open, clean it, and the season itwith salt and also with pepper, which they had among their stores.Then he would lay the fish in the hot ashes of a fire that hadburned down to embers, cover it up thoroughly with the hot ashesand embers
The fish was then ready for the eating, and neither Dick norAlbert could ever bear to wait. The flesh looked so tempting andthe odor was so savory that hunger instantly became acute.
"They are so good," said Albert, "because my method of cookingpreserves all the juices and flavors of the fish. Nothingescapes."
"Thanks, professor," said Dick. "You must be right, so kindlypass me another of those trout, and be quick about it."
It is a truth that both boys became epicures. Their valleyfurnished so much, and they had a seasoning of hard work and openmountain air that was beyond compare. They even imitated Indianand trapper ways of cooking geese, ducks, quail, sage hens, andother wild fowl that the region afforded. They could cook thesein the ashes as they did the trout, and they also had othermethods. Albert would take a duck, cut it open and clean it, butleave the feathers on. Then he would put it in water, until thefeathers were soaked thoroughly, after which he would cover it upwith ashes, and put hot coals on top of the ashes. When the birdwas properly cooked and drawn from the ashes, the skin could bepulled off easily, taking the feathers, of course, with it. Thena duck, sweet, tender, and delicate, such as no restaurant couldfurnish, was ready for the hardy youngsters. At rare intervalsthey improve on this by stuffing the duck with seasoning andIndian meal. Now and then they served a fat goose the same wayand found it equally good.
They cooked the smaller birds in a simpler manner, especiallywhen they were at the bark shanty, which they nicknamed the"Suburban Villa." The bird was plucked of its feathers, drawnand washed, and then they cut it down the back in order to spreadit out. Nothing was left but to put the bird on the end of asharp stick, hold it over the coals, and turn it around until itwas thoroughly broiled or roasted. They also roasted slices ofbig game in the same way.
As Albert was cooking a partridge in this manner one evening atthe Suburban Villa, Dick, who was sitting on his buffalo-robeblanket in the doorway, watched him and began to make comparisons.He recalled the boy who had left Omaha with the wagon train six oreight months before, a thin, spiritless fellow with a slender, weakneck, hollow, white cheeks, pale lips, and listless eyes. That boydrew coughs incessantly from a hollow chest, and the backs of hishands were ridged when the flesh had gone away, leaving the bonesstanding up. This boy whom Dick contemplated was quite a differentbeing. His face was no longer white, it was instead a mixture ofred and brown, and both tints were vivid. Across one cheek were somebrier scratches which he had acquired the day before, but which he hadnever noticed. The red-brown cheeks were filled out with the effectsof large quantities of good food digested well. As he bent over thefire, a chest of good width seemed to puff out with muscle and windexpansion. Despite the extreme cold, his sleeves were rolled upto the elbow, and the red wrists and hands were well covered withtough, seasoned flesh. The eyes that watched the roasting birdwere intent, alert, keenly interested in that particular task,and in due course, in any other that might present itself.
Dick drew a long breath of satisfaction. Providence had treatedthem well. Then he called loudly for his share of the bird,saying that he was starving, and in a few moments both fell towork.
Their fur operations continued to extend. They had really founda pocket, and isolated corner in the high Rockies where thefur-bearing animals, not only abundant, were also increasing. Itwas, too, the dead of winter, the very best time for trapping,and so, as far as their own goings and comings were concerned,they were favored further by the lucky and unusual absence ofsnow. They increased the number of their traps--dead falls, boxtraps, snares, and other kinds, and most of them were successful.
They knew instinctively the quality of the furs that theyobtained. They could tell at a glance whether they were prime,that is, thick and full, and as they cured them and baled them,they classified them.
Constant application bred new ideas. In their pursuit of furs,they found that they were not quite so sparing of the game asthey had been at first. Some of their scruples melted away.Albert now recalled a device of trappers of which he had read.This was the use of a substance generally called barkstone, whichthey found to be of great help to them in the capture of thatanimal.
The barkstone or castoreum, as it is commercially known, wasobtained principally from the beaver himself. The basis of itwas an acrid secretion with a musky odor of great power, found intwo glands just under the root of the beaver's tail. Each glandwas from one and one half to two inches in length. The boys cutout these glands and squeezed the contents into an empty tincan. This at first was of a yellowish-red color, but after awhile, when it dried, it became a light brown.
This substance formed the main ingredient of barkstone, and intheir medicine chest they found a part of the remainder. Thesecretion was transferred to a bottle and the mixed with itessence of peppermint and ground cinnamon. As Albert rememberedit, ground nutmeg also was needed, but as they had no nutmegthey were compelled to take their chances without it. Then theypoured whisky on the compound until it looked like a paste.
Then the bottle was stopped up with the greatest care, and inabout a week, when they stole a sniff or two at it, they foundthat the odor had increased ten or a dozen times in power.
They put eight or ten drops of the barkstone upon the bait forthe beaver, or somewhere near the trap, and, despite some defectsin the composition, it proved an extraordinary success. Thewariest beaver of all would be drawn by it, and their beaverbales grew faster than any other.
Dick calculated one day that they had at least five thousanddollars worth of furs, which seemed a great sum to both boys. Itcertainly meant, at that time and in that region, a competence,and it could be increased greatly.
"Of course," said Dick, "we'll have to think some day of the wayin which we must get these furs out, and for that we will needhorses or mules, but we won't bother our heads about it yet."
After the long period of clear, open weather, the delayed snowcame. It began to fall one evening at twilight, when both boyswere snug in the cabin, and it came in a very gentle, soothingway, as if it meant no harm whatever. Big, soft flakes fell assoftly as the touch of down, but every time the boys looked outthey were still coming in the same gentle but persistent way.The next morning the big flakes still came down and all that dayand all the next night. When the snow stopped it lay five feetdeep on the level, and uncounted feet deep in the gullies andcanyons.
"We're snowed in," said Albert in some dismay, "and we can't goto our traps. Why, this is likely to last a month!"
"We can't walk through it," said Dick meditatively, "but we canwalk on it. We've got to make snowshoes. They're what we need."
"Good!" said Albert with enthusiasm. "Let's get to work atonce."
Deep snows fall in Illinois, and both, in their earlier boyhood,had experimented for the sake of sport with a crude form ofsnowshoe. Now they were to build upon this slender knowledge,for the sake of an immediate necessity, and it was the hardesttask that they had yet set for themselves. Nevertheless, it wasachieved, like the others.
They made a framework of elastic stripes of ash bent in thewell-known shape of the snowshoe, which bears some resemblanceto the shape of the ordinary shoe, only many times larger andsharply pointed at the rear end. Its length was between five andsix feet, and the ends were tightly wound with strips of hide.This frame was bent into the shoe shape after it had been soakedin boiling water.
Then they put two very strong strips of hide across the frontpart of the framework, and in addition passed at least a halfdozen stout bands of hide from strip to strip.
Then came the hard task of attaching the shoe to the foot of theboy who was to wear it. The ball of the foot was set on thesecond crosspiece and the foot was then tied there
They had to exercise infinite patience before two pairs ofsnowshoes were finished. There was much hunting in deep snowfor proper wood, many strips and some good hide were spoiled,but the shoes were made and then another equally as greatconfronted the two boys--to learn how to use them.
Each boy put on his pair at the same time and went forth on thesnow, which was now packed and hard. Albert promptly caughtone of his shoes on the other, toppled over, and went downthrough the crust of the snow, head first. Dick, although inan extremely awkward situation himself, managed to pull hisbrother out and put him in the proper position, with his headpointing toward the sky instead of the earth. Albert brushedthe snow out of his eyes and ears, and laughed.
"Good start, bad ending," he said. "This is certainly thebiggest pair of shoes that I ever had on, Dick. They feel atleast a mile long to me."
"I know that mine are a mile long," said Dick, as he, too,brought the toe of one shoe down upon the heel of the other,staggered, fell over sideways, but managed to right himself intime.
"It seems to me," said Albert, "that the proper thing to do is tostep very high and very far, so you won't tangle up one shoe withthe other."
"That seems reasonable," said Dick, "and we'll try it."
They practiced this step for an hour, making their ankles achebadly. After a good rest they tried it for another hour, andthen they began to make progress. They found that they got alongover the snow at a fair rate of speed, although it remained anawkward and tiring gait. Nevertheless, one could travel anindefinite distance, when it was impossible to break one's wayfar through five or six feet of packed snow, and the shoes met aneed.
"They'll do," said Albert; "but it will never be like walking onthe solid earth in common shoes."
Albert was right. Their chief use for these objects, solaboriously constructed, was for the purpose of visiting theirtraps, some of which were set at least a dozen miles away. Theywished also to go back to the shanty and see that it was allright. They found a number of valuable furs in the traps, butthe bark shanty had been almost crushed in by the weight of thesnow, and they spent sometime strengthening and repairing it.
In the course of these excursions their skill with the snowshoesincreased and they were also able to improve upon the construction,correcting little errors in measurement and balance. The snowshowed no signs of melting, but they made good progress, nevertheless,with their trapping, and all the furs taken were of the highestquality.
It would have been easy for them to kill enough game to feed asmall army, as the valley now fairly swarmed with it, althoughnearly all of it was of large species, chiefly buffalo, elk, andbear. There was one immense herd of elk congregated in a greatsheltered space at the northern end of the valley, where they fedchiefly upon twigs and lichens.
Hanging always upon the flanks of this herd was a band of timberwolves of great size and ferocity, which never neglected anopportunity to pull down a cripple or a straying yearling.
"I thought we had killed off all these timber wolves," saidAlbert when he first caught sight of the band.
"We did kill off most of those that were here when we came," saidDick, "but others, I suppose, have followed the game from themountains into the valley."
Albert went alone a few days later to one of their traps up thevalley, walking at a good pace on his snowshoes. A small colonyof beavers had been discovered on a stream that came downbetween two high cliffs, and the trap contained a beaver ofunusually fine fur. Albert removed the skin, put it on hisshoulder, and, tightening his snowshoes, started back to CastleHoward.
The snow had melted a little recently, and in many places amongthe trees it was not deep, but Albert and Dick had made it apoint to wear their snowshoes whenever they could, for the sakeof the skill resulting from practice.
Albert was in a very happy frame of mind. He felt always now aphysical elation, which, of course, became mental also. It islikely, too, that the rebound from long and despairing ill healthstill made itself felt. None so well as those who have been illand are cured! He drew great draughts of the frosty air into hisstrong, sound lungs, and the emitted it slowly and with ease. Itwas a fine mechanism, complex, but working beautifully.Moreover, he had an uncommonly large and rich beaver fur over hisshoulder. Such a skin as that would bring twenty-five dollars inany decent market.
Albert kept to the deep snow on account of his shoes, and wasmaking pretty good time, when he heard a long howl, varied by akind of snappy, growling bark.
"One of those timber wolves," said Albert to himself, "and he hasscented the blood of the beaver."
He thought no more about the wolf until two or three minuteslater when he heard another howl and then two or three more.Moreover, they were much nearer.
"Now, I wonder what they're after?" thought Albert.
But he went on, maintaining his good pace, and then he heardbehind him a cry that was a long, ferocious whine rather than ahowl. Albert looked back and saw under the trees, where the snowwas lighter, a dozen leaping forms. He recognized at once theold pests, the timber wolves.
"Now, I wonder what they're after?" he repeated, and then as thewhole pack suddenly gave tongue in a fierce, murderous howl, hesaw that it was himself. Albert, armed though he was--neitherboy ever went forth without gun or revolver--felt the blood growcold in every vein. These were not the common wolves of theprairie, nor yet the ordinary wolf of the East and Middle West,but the great timber wolf of the Northwest, the largest andfiercest of the dog tribe. He had grown used to the presence oftimber wolves hovering somewhere near, but now they presentedthemselves in a new aspect, bearing down straight upon him, andpushed by hunger. He understood why they were about to attackhim. They had been able to secure but little of the large gamein the valley, and they were drawn on by starvation.
He looked again and looked fearfully. They seemed to himmonstrous in size for wolves, and their long, yellowish-graybodies were instinct with power. Teeth and eyes alike weregleaming. Albert scarcely knew what to do first. Should he run,taking to the deepest snow, where the wolves might sink to theirbodies and thus fail to overtake him? But in his own haste hemight trip himself with the long, ungainly snowshoes, and theneverything would quickly be over. Yet it must be tried. Hecould see no other way.
Albert, almost unconsciously prayed for coolness and judgment,and it was well for him that his life in recent months had taughthim hardihood and resource. He turned at once into the openspace, away from the trees, where the snow lay several feet deep,and he took long, flying leaps on his snowshoes. Behind him camethe pack of great, fierce brutes, snapping and snarling, howlingand whining, a horrible chorus that made shivers chase oneanother up and down the boy's spine. But as he reckoned, thedeep snow made them flounder, and checked their speed.
Before him the open ground and the deep snow stretched straightaway beside the lake until it reached the opening between themountains in which stood Castle Howard. As Albert saw the goodtrack lie before him, his hopes rose, but presently, when helooked back again, they fell with cruel speed. The wolves,despite the depth of the snow, had gained upon him. Sometimes,perhaps, it proved hard enough to sustain the weight of theirbodies, and then they more than made up lost ground.
Albert noted a wolf which he took at once to be the leader, notonly because he led all the others, but because also of hismonstrous size. Even in that moment of danger he wondered that awolf could grow so large, and that he should have such longteeth. But the boy, despite his great danger, retained hispresence of mind. If the wolves were gaining, then he mustinflict a check upon them. He whirled about, steadied himself amoment on his snowshoes, and fired directly at the huge leader.The wolf had swung aside when he saw the barrel of the rifleraised, but
But the boy had gained, and he felt that the repeating riflewould be for a while like a circle of steel to him. He couldhold them back for a time with bullet after bullet, although itwould not suffice to stop the final rush when it came, if itcame.
Albert looked longingly ahead. He saw a feather of blue smokeagainst the dazzling white and silver of the sky, and he knewthat it came from their cabin. If he were only there behindthose stout log walls! A hundred wolves, bigger than the bigleader, might tear at them in vain! And perhaps Dick, too, wouldcome! He felt that the two together would have little to fear.
The wolves set up their fierce, whining howl again, and once moreit showed that they had gained upon the fleeing boy. He turnedand fired once, twice, three times, four times, as fast as hecould pull the trigger, directly into the mass of the pack. Hecould not tell what he had slain and what he had wounded, butthere was a hideous snapping and snarling, and the sight of wolfteeth flashing into wolf flesh.
Albert ran on and that feather of blue smoke was larger andnearer. But was it near enough? He could hear the wolves behindhim again. All these diversions were only temporary. No matterhow many of their number were slain or wounded, no matter howmany paused to devour the dead and hurt, enough were always leftto follow him. The pursuit, too, had brought reinforcements fromthe lurking coverts of the woods and bushes.
Albert saw that none of his bullets had struck the leader. Theyellowish-gray monster still hung close upon him, and he was toAlbert like a demon wolf, one that could not be slain. He wouldtry again. He wheeled and fired. The leader, as before, swervedto one side and a less fortunate wolf behind him received thebullet. Albert fired two more bullets, and then he turned tocontinue his flight. But the long run, the excitement, and hisweakened nerves caused the fatal misstep. The toe of onesnowshoe caught on the heel of the other, and as a shout piercedthe air, he went down.
The huge gray leader leaped at the fallen boy, and as his bodypaused a fleeting moment in midair before it began the descent, arifle cracked, a bullet struck him in the throat, cutting thejugular vein and coming out behind. His body fell lifeless onthe snow, and he who had fired the shot came on swiftly, shoutingand firing again.
It was well that Dick, sometime after Albert's departure, hadconcluded to go forth for a little hunt, and it was well alsothat in addition to his rifle he had taken the double-barreledshotgun thinking that he might find some winter wild fowl flyingover the snow and ice-covered surface of the lake. His firstshot slew the master wolf, his second struck down another, histhird was as fortunate, his fourth likewise, and then, stillrunning forward, he bethought himself of the shotgun that wasstrapped over his shoulder. He leveled it in an instant andfairly sprayed the pack of wolves with stinging shot. Beforethat it had been each bullet for a wolf and the rest untouched,but now there was a perfect shower of those hot little pellets.It was more than they could stand, big, fierce, and hungry timberwolves though they were. They turned and fled with beaten howlsinto the woods.
Albert was painfully righting himself, when Dick gave him hishand and sped the task. Albert had thought himself lost, and itwas yet hard to realize that he had not disappeared down thethroat of the master wolf. His nerves were overtaxed, and he wasnear collapse.
"Thank you, Dick, old boy," he said. "If you hadn't come whenyou did, I shouldn't be here."
"No, you wouldn't," replied Dick grimly. "Those wolves eatfast. But look, Al, what a monster this fellow is! Did you eversee such a wolf?"
The great leader lay on his side upon the snow, and a full sevenfeet he stretched from the tip of his nose to the root of hisstumpy tail. No such wolf as he had ever been put inside a cage,and it was rare, indeed, to find one so large, even in themountains south of the very Far North.
"That's a skin that will be worth something," said Dick, "andhere are more, but before we begin the work of taking them off,you'll have to be braced up, Al. You need a stimulant."
He hurried back to Castle Howard and brought one of the bottlesof whisky, a little store that they had never touched except inthe compounding of the barkstone for the capture of beaver. Hegave Albert a good stiff drink of it, after which the boy feltbetter, well enough, in fact, to help Dick skin the monster wolf.
"It gives me pleasure to do this," said Albert, as he wielded theknife. "You thought, Mr. Wolf, that I was going to adorn yourinside; instead, your outside will be used as an adornmenttrodden on by the foot of my kind."
They secured four other fine and unimpaired skins among theslain, and after dressing and curing, they were sent to join thestores in the Annex.