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
All now crowded around the meal-pot, and commenced devouring its
contents with the avidity of wild animals. It consisted mainly of
pemmican (dried buffalo flesh), a food much in vogue in the northwest,
with several biscuits and some scalding tea. The meal finished, the
men instantly produced their pipes, which they indulged in for ten or
fifteen minutes. The boats were then shoved into the water, the
cooking-utensils placed on board, and preparations made for starting.
“Whar you bound to?” asked Biddon, just as they were ready.
“The Blackfeet-Sioux,” I answered, unable to repress a smile.
“The Blackfeet-Sioux?” he repeated.
“Yes; do you know their grounds?”
“I’s ’bout twenty miles down-stream--that is the village. We cac’late
to camp thereabouts to-night. What, in the name of beavers, do you
want with them?”
“I’ll explain matters when we have a better opportunity,” I answered.
“Jump in with me then, an’ I’ll git Tom Wilson to rest a while, and
we’ll talk over matters and things.”
I sprang into the boat, and the brigade was soon under way. The
Yellowstone, being broad and deep and the current quite powerful, the
work was comparatively light. The song was again taken up by the
_voyageurs_, all joining in the chorus and keeping time with the
measured dip of their paddles. I seated myself in the stern, beside
the steersman, who I found to be a clerk in the Hudson Bay Company,
and a gentleman.
“How long will you remain with us, Mr. Relmond?” he asked.
“Only until night.”
“I was in hopes you would accompany us to the settlement.”
“I should be glad to do so, but circumstances forbid.”
“It was quite fortunate,” he smiled, “that you and Biddon were
acquainted. He is a noble fellow.”
“Most assuredly he is. I accompanied him, as a seeker of adventures,
last summer from Independence, and we separated in the autumn, while
in the wilderness. I was considerably surprised to find him in your
service.”
“He had a misunderstanding with his employers, I believe. He had a
dispute with one of their agents, and gave him a severe pounding. He
was reproved rather sharply for this and left the company in disgust.
This was during the winter. Shortly after he visited Red River
settlement, and volunteered his services, and they were gladly
accepted, as his skill was known to many.”
“He has been then but a short time with you.”
“Only a few weeks--but long enough to let us know the value of his
services. This brigade is all owing to him.”
“How so?”
“You are aware we are now in the United States territory. It is not
often that we extend our work into it, except in Oregon, which has
lately fallen into the hands of the Americans. Biddon had engaged a
large quantity of furs of the Indians in the neighborhood, intending
them for one of their fur companies, but after his dispute he offered
them to us, and this brigade was dispatched for the purpose of
collecting them. He will find there is quite a pile of money due him
at York fort when he arrives there.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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