Edward Ellis - Bill Biddon, Trapper - or, Life in the Northwest

“After some talk and a heap of cryin’, we ’cluded to camp on that piece of sand in the river. The teams war drew over and we follered. The water war some deeper nor now, and it took us a long time to land; but we got over at last. As soon as we war clean over, I commenced fixing up things fur the reds. We didn’t build no fire, but put the teams together near the middle, and the women inside ’em. There war four men without me, and I set ’em round the place to watch fur sign. I made ’em all squat flat down on the mud close to the water, and told ’em to blaze away at anything they seed, ef it war a beaver or otter, and gave ’em pertickler orders not to wink both eyes at a time. I seed they’s skerish, and there weren’t no danger of thar snoozin’ on watch.

“I’s pretty sartin the reds would come some of thar tricks, and come down the river; so I went up to the upper part of the thing, and laid in the mud myself to watch fur ’em. I knowed, too, they wouldn’t be ’bout ’fore purty late, so I took a short nap as I laid in the mud. When I woke up the moon war up in the sky, and the river had riz so my pegs war in the water. I flapped out, but didn’t see nothin’ yet. I sneaked down round by t’other fellers, and found ’em all wide awake; and they said, too, as how they hadn’t seen nothin’ ’cept the river war gettin’ higher, which they kinder thought the Injins mought ’ve done. Jist as I war going back I heard some of the purtiest singin’ in the world. Fust, I thought it war an Injin, ef it hadn’t been so nice; then I ’cluded it must be an angel. I listened, and found it came from the wagons. I crept up and seed two little girls all ’lone clus by the wagons, a singin’ sunkthin’. Shoot me! ef it didn’t make me feel watery to see them. The moon war shinin’ down through the flyin’ clouds, right out on ’em. They sot with their arms round each other and war bare-headed, and ef I hadn’t knowed ’em I’d swore they were angels sure. I axed what they were singin’ for, and they said the Injins war goin’ to come after ’em that night, and they war singin’ to their mother in heaven to keep ’em away. Shoot me! when one of ’em throwed her little white arms round my neck and kissed my ugly meat-trap, I couldn’t stand it. I went up to my place again and lad down in the mud.

“It was gettin’ colder, and the wind comin’ up, drew the white clouds ’fore the moon, makin’ it all black. But when it come out agin I seed sunkthin’ comin’ down the river that looked like a log. I dug down deeper into the mud, and set my peepers on it, fur I knowed thar war sunkthin’ else thar, too. It come right on and struck the mud a little ways from me. I didn’t stir ’cept to kinder loose my knife. The log stuck a minute, and then swung round and went down the river. I knowed the boys would see it, and I didn’t leave my place. Thinkin’ as how this war only sent down to see what we’d do, I war lookin’ fur other things, when I heard a noise in the water, and, shoot me, ef a sneakin’ red didn’t come up out of the water, and commence crawlin’ toward whar the gals war singin’. (Jist put a little fodder on the fire.)”

I sprang up and threw on some fagots, and then seated myself and anxiously awaited the rest of his story. He put away his pipe, filled his mouth with tobacco, and, after several annoying delays, resumed:

“Thar weren’t no time to lose. I crept ’long behind him mighty sly, and afore he knowed it, come down spank onto him. I didn’t make no noise nor he either. I jist grabbed his gullet and finished him with my knife. I then crawled back agin, and, shoot me, ef I didn’t see forty logs comin’ down on us; the river war full of ’em.

“I jumped up and hollered to the other fellers to look out. They came up aside me and stood ready, but it weren’t no use. ’Fore we knowed it, I seed over forty of ’em ’long ’side us. We blazed into ’em and went to usin’ our knives, but I knowed it wouldn’t do. They set up a yell and pitched fur the wagons, while ’bout a dozen went at us. The fust thing I knowed the whole four boys were down and thar ha’r raised, and the women screechin’ murder. It made me desprit, and I reckon I done some tall work that night. Most these beauty spots on my mug come from that scrimmage. I seed a red dart by me with that little gal as was singin’, and cotched a dead red’s gun and let drive at him; but the gun weren’t loaded, and so the devil run off with her.

“The oxes war bellerin’, the horses snortin’, and the tomahawks stoppin’ the women’s screams; the redskins war howlin’ and yellin’ like all mad, and as I had got some big cuts and knocks, I ’cluded it best to move quarters. So I made a jump for the stream, took a long dive, and swam for the shore. I come up ’bout whar you’re setting, and I made a heap of tracks ’fore daylight come.”

“And did you never hear anything of the children captured upon that night?”

“I never seed ’em agin; but I come ’cross a chap at Fort Laramie when I went down agin, what said he’d seen a gal ’mong some the redskins up in these parts, and I’ve thought p’r’aps it mought be one of ’em, and agin it moughtn’t.”

“Did you say that all happened out there?” asked Nat, jerking his thumb toward the island mentioned, without turning his face.

“I reckon I did.”

“Bet there’s a lot of Injins there now!” exclaimed he, turning his head in that direction.

“Jist as like as not,” returned Biddon, with a sly look at me.

“I’m goin’ to sleep then,” and rolling himself up in his buffalo-blanket, all but his feet, disappeared from view.

“It’s ’bout time to snooze, I think,” remarked the trapper, in a lower tone, turning toward me.

“I think so, but I suppose there need be no apprehension of molestation from Injins, need there?”

Biddon looked at me a moment; then one side of his mouth expanded into a broad grin, and he quietly remarked:

“Times are different from what they used to war.”

“Biddon,” said I, after a moment’s silence, “before we saw you we camped upon one side of a stream while you were upon the other. Now, I do not suppose you would willfully harm a stranger; but since I have met you, I have a great desire to know why you fired that shot at Nat. You supposed we were Indians, I presume?”

A quiet smile illumined the trapper’s swarthy visage; and, after waiting a moment, he answered:

“The way on it war this: I seed you and Nat camping there, and I s’pected you war gwine to tramp these parts. I watched you awhile, and was gwine to sing out for you to come over. Then said I, ‘Biddon, you dog, ain’t there a chance to give them a powerful scare.’ First I drawed bead on you, but when that Nat jumped up, I let fly at him, and he kerflummuxed splendid. Howsumever, it’s time to snooze, and I’m in for it.”

With this, we wrapped our blankets around us, and in a few moments were asleep.

On a clear summer morning, we sallied out upon the broad, open prairie again. The trapper now struck a direction nearly due northwest toward the Black Hills, and we proceeded with greater speed than before. The face of the country began to change materially. Vast groves of timber met the eye, and the soil became rich and productive. At noon we encountered the most immense drove of buffaloes that I ever witnessed. They were to the west of us, and proceeding in a southern direction, cropping the grass clean as they went. Far away, as far as the vision could reach, nothing but a sea of black moving bodies could be distinguished. I mounted a small knoll to ascertain the size of the drove; but only gained a clearer idea of their enormous number. The whole western horizon, from the extreme northwest to the southwest, was occupied solely by them, and nothing else met the eye. They were not under way, and yet the whole mass was moving slowly onward. The head buffaloes would seize a mouthful of grass, and then move on a few feet and grasp another. Those behind did the same, and the whole number were proceeding in this manner. This constant change of their position gave an appearance to them, as viewed from my standing-point, similar to the long heaving of the sea after a violent storm. It was truly a magnificent spectacle.