In the Rocky Mountains: A Tale of AdventureKingston, William Henry Giles
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In the Rocky Mountains: A Tale of Adventure
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Rocky Mountains -- Fiction
I cannot fully describe the events of that day. On and on I went, like a
deer chased by the hunters. Sometimes I would fancy that I heard the
war-whoops of the Indians behind me; at others the sounds which I
conjured up appeared to be uttered by Bartle or Gideon. I would stop to
listen, but only the roar of some distant waterfall or the murmur of a
nearer rapid struck my ear. Or now and again I heard the cry of some
bird of prey, as it swooped down from its lofty eyrie towards the
carcass which it had espied far off on the plain below.
Again I was becoming faint with my exertions, and my food was exhausted.
Whenever I stopped to rest, too, my mind dwelt upon the fearful scenes I
had witnessed, and the fate of my friends. I was not altogether free
from anxiety about Clarice, either. Brave and trustworthy as was my
friend Manley, his party might have been pursued and overpowered by the
savages, and my fair young sister might have been carried away into
captivity, to suffer worse than death. To succumb, however, would have
been unmanly. Although fatigued in body and anxious in mind, I had still
sufficient physical strength to pursue my way.
The day was advancing, and I determined to strike down into the plains,
where, at all events, I could make more rapid progress than over the
rough ground I had been traversing. I accordingly directed my course, as
I believed, to the eastward; but still hill beyond hill appeared, and it
seemed as if I should never reach the more level ground. Still on and on
I went, until at length I gained a height from whence, looking down, I
saw that the prairie stretched out in the far distance before me.
I was descending at as rapid a rate as the ground would allow, when I
caught sight, in the approaching gloom of evening, of the figure of a
man. The person, whoever he was, had seen me as I appeared on the top of
a rock exposed against the sky, and was coming towards me. To avoid him
was impossible, so I got my weapons ready for an encounter, should he
prove to be an enemy. Although he must have seen I held my rifle in my
hand, he advanced without hesitation.
"What! do you not know me?" he exclaimed, when he got nearer. "I am
Winnemak, the friend of the Palefaces; although, alas! with but little
power to assist them. You, however, I can aid, for I see you are weary
and hungry. Come with me to where a few of my braves are encamped--but
few, alas! the rest are killed or dispersed. We were on our way to the
northward, where our squaws, children, and old men are encamped, when I
caught sight of you as you came down the mountain, and I knew at once
that you were flying from the Arrapahas."
This information explained Winnemak's unexpected appearance. Aided by
him, I continued the descent of the mountain, although I believe without
his support I could have gone no farther. He then told me all that had
occurred.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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