Fantasy Football Challenge - Football Fanatics Library

Fantasy Football Challenge - Library of Books for Football Fanatics

Fantasy Football Challenge presents
Wild Beasts and Their Ways

84 of 98

itself; a long spruce pole was lashed at either end to two spruce firs; against this, leaning at an angle of about 45 degrees, were sixty or seventy straight poles laid close together, and upon these were arranged spruce boughs to form a thatch. This lean-to provided a tolerable shelter within the forest, when the wind was sufficiently considerate to blow at the back against the thatch, instead of direct towards the open face. The ground in the acute angle was strewed with branches of spruce, and a large fire was kept burning during night, exactly in front, the whole arrangement exhibiting the principle of a Dutch oven. In such a camp, Big Bill received the stranger with the hospitality of the wilderness, and they laid themselves down to rest in the close companionship of newly-made friends. The morning broke, and as Big Bill rubbed his eyes with mute astonishment, he could not see his friend. He rose from his sleeping-place, and went outside in the cold morning air; he could not see his horses. A horrible suspicion seized upon him; he searched the immediate neighbourhood; the animals had vanished, both horses and mules were gone, together with the unknown stranger, to whom he had given food and shelter for the night. Fortunately there was a particular horse which Big Bill for special reasons kept separate from the rest; this animal was picqueted by itself among the spruce firs at some little distance, and had been unobserved by the departed stranger. To saddle the horse, and to follow in pursuit at the highest speed upon the trail of the horse-stealer, was the work of only a few minutes. The track was plain enough in the morning dew, where ten or a dozen mules and horses had brushed through the low prairie grass. Big Bill went at a gallop, and he knew that he must quickly overtake them; his only doubt lay in the suspicion that there might be confederates, and that a strong party might have joined together to secure the prize, instead of the solitary stranger being in charge. However, at all hazards he pushed on at best speed in chase; at the same time, the horse-stealer, thoroughly experienced in his profession, was driving his ill-gotten herd before him at a gentle trot, thoroughly convinced that it would be impossible to be overtaken, as the owner had been left (as he supposed) without a horse. At length, after a pursuit of some hours, upon attaining the summit of a broad eminence, Big Bill's eyes were gladdened by the sight of some distant objects moving upon the horizon, and he at once redoubled his speed. The stranger, innocent of suspicion, trotted leisurely forward, whistling, and driving his newly acquired animals with professional composure, without condescending to look back, as he felt certain of security, having left his hospitable friend of the preceding night with nothing better than his own legs for locomotion. In the meantime, Big Bill was coming up at a gallop; he was boiling with indignation at the treacherous conduct of his uninvited guest; and being fully alive to the manners and customs of the West, he placed his Sharp rifle upon full-cock to be in readiness for an explanation. A few minutes sufficed to shorten the distance to 100 yards, when the astonished horse-stealer was surprised by the sound of hoofs upon the stony soil, and, turning round, he was almost immediately confronted with the threatening figure of Big Bill. The dialogue which ensued has not been historically described; there was none of the bombast that generally preceded the combats of Grecian heroes; but it appears that the horse-stealer's right hand instinctively grasped the handle of his revolver, not unseen by the vigilant eyes of Big Bill, who with praiseworthy decision sent a bullet through his adversary's chest from the already prepared Sharp .450; leaving the lifeless body where it fell, he not only recovered all his stolen animals, but also possessed himself of the horse and saddle which only recently belonged to the prairie horse-stealer without a name. The gigantic Swede returned to his solitary camp, well satisfied with his morning's work, as he had gained instead of losing, and he had saved the State of Wyoming the expense and trouble of hanging a man for a crime which is supposed to deserve no mercy, that of "horse-stealing." Of course this instance of determination and extreme vigilance gained for Big Bill the admiration of the extremely limited number of people who would be called "the public" in the outlying portions of Wyoming; but although contented with himself, Big Bill was always suspicious of a solitary stranger, as he had an undefined idea that some relative of the defunct horse-dealer might draw a trigger upon him unawares. It was this redoubtable Big Bill who now confided to me that he had been running away from some monster grizzly bear only on the preceding day. He pointed out the spot, as nearly as possible, from where we stood during his narrative. "There," he said, "do you see that low rocky cliff on the tip top of the hill just above us? That was the place just beneath, on that little terrace-like projection with a few spruce firs upon it. There's a steep but not a difficult way down by the side of that cliff, and when young Edmund and I got down upon that terrace, there were a lot of big rocks lying about, and all of a sudden one of 'em stood up on end within 10 yards of me, and sat up regularly smiling at me, with the most innocent and amiable expression of countenance I ever saw. That was the biggest grizzly bear I ever came across; he was as big as the biggest bull I ever saw in the ranche, and there he was, sitting up on end like a dog, and almost laughing. There was no laugh in me, I can tell you; I just lost no time, but turned round, and hooked it; and I don't think I ever ran so fast in all my life." "But why did you not shoot him?" I exclaimed with astonishment. "Shoot him? Oh yes, that's very likely, when he wasn't farther than 10 yards off, and I should have had such a poor start, and no place to run to! No, I knew better than that, with a single-barrel Sharp .450. If I had had your double-barrel .577, with a big solid bullet, and 6 drams of powder, I shouldn't have run away; but I go hunting for skins with my little Sharp, and I don't want a grizzly to go hunting for my skin; not

84 of 98 pages. Go to page:

Go to this Book's Directory Page