Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, Life in the NorthwestEllis, Edward Sylvester
General
Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, Life in the Northwest
Ellis, Edward Sylvester
Hunting -- West (U.S.) -- Fiction; Indians of North America -- Fiction; Trappers -- Fiction; Western stories
It was too cold to enjoy our pipes, and we all bundled up for the
night’s rest. In a few moments I heard the trapper’s deep breathing,
and shortly after Nat joined him in sleep. But I found it impossible
to get to sleep myself. The ground was so cold that my blanket could
not protect me, and the cutting wind was terrible. I used every means
that I could devise, but it was of no use, and I feared I should be
compelled to either build the fire again, or to continue walking all
night to prevent freezing to death.
I chose the latter expedient. It was quite dark, yet I had noticed our
situation well enough, I judged, not to lose it. So grasping my
blanket in my hand, I started on a rapid run directly over the
prairie. I continued a long distance, until pretty well exhausted. I
turned to retrace my steps. My blood was warming with the exercise,
and I hurried forward, counting upon sound sleep for the remainder of
the night.
I continued my run for a full half hour, and then stopped in
amazement, as I saw no signs of my companions. Thinking I must have
passed the spot where they were lying, I carefully walked back again,
but still without discovering the men. I had lost them in the
darkness, and it was useless to hunt them at night. So I concluded to
wait till morning, feeling sure that they could be at no great
distance. I now commenced searching for a suitable place for myself,
and at last hit upon a small depression in the prairie. There was a
large stone imbedded in the earth on one side, which served to protect
me from the chilling wind. As I nestled down, beside this, such a
feeling of warmth and comfort came over me that I congratulated myself
upon what at first seemed a misfortune.
Lying thus, just on the verge of sleep, my nerves painfully alive to
the slightest sound, I suddenly felt a trembling of the ground. At
first it seemed a dream; but, as I became fully awake, I started in
terror and listened. I raised my head, but heard no sound, and still
in the most perplexing wonder sank down again, hoping it would shortly
cease. But there was a steady, regular increase, and presently I
distinguished millions of faint tremblings, like the distant
mutterings of thunder. Gradually these grew plainer and more distinct,
and finally I could distinguish sounds like the tread of innumerable
feet upon the prairie. Still at a loss to account for this strange
occurrence, I listened, every nerve in my body strung to its highest
tension. Still louder and louder grew the approaching thunder, and
every second the jar of the earth became more perceptible. Suddenly
the truth flashed upon me--_a herd of buffaloes were approaching_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account