FOR OUR BOYS & GIRLS

Auckland Star, Volume XXIV, Issue 94, 22 April 1893, Page 11

FOR OUR BOYS & GIRLS

A Fight for Life on a Muskeg.

A Hudson Bay Trapper's Adventure

With Buffaloes.

By Capel Rowley,

«Il was the nastiest scrape I ever got into,' said Jonathan Johnson as the trail upon which -we were driving suddenly led down into the magnificent ravine in which the Pipestone Creek wends its sluggish way toward the Quappello River through numerous cranberry swamps and muskegs.

'It was the nastiest scrape I ever got into, and I'm going to tell you all about it.'

I settled myself comfortably in the wagon seat ready for a good story, for I knew that Jonathan in his young days had been an old buffalo hunter and could tell many a good anecdote if he would only allow himselE to be drawn out.

"Twas about fifty years ago,' said he, ' when these prairieß were as wild aa nature made them and buffalo were as thick aa mice in a barn that I first came out here to hunt and trap for the Hudson Bay Company. In the East there were few could beat me as a hunter, but up to that time I didn't know much about the Western big game. Well, I soon found the favourite feeding ground of the buffalo, and that wae right around this neighbourhood. Many a hundred have I shot within five miles of this spot, but although I have had several narrow squeaks for my life, I only once came near getting frightened to death and it happened right here. 'I hadn't exactly been hunting that day, still I had my rifle with me. I carried it partly from habit), you see, and also for the very best of reasons—that I didn't have any better place to leave it. In those days there weren't many of us hunters had any very special homes in the West, and when the weather was warm and clear we frequently made lone trips, camping just where we found ourselves at sunset.

' Well, it was getting dusky on that particular evening, so when I came to the creek here, thinks I to myself, I'll stay right there ; so after tethering the horse, I stretched out on the ground to enjoy my pipe. ■' After lying perhaps an hour I was suddenly startled by a peculiar rumbling noise —^ib sounded like an underground disturbance. I tried to think my fancy had deceived me, but it kept getting louder and louder, so finally I determined to go and look around.

•I clambered up that bank as fast as I could, noticing that as I neared the top the rumbling sound grew more and more distinct, but strange to say I never for a moment suspected the danger. ' Well, when lat length reached the brow of the hill and looked over, the sight that met my eyes fairly froze the blood in my veins.

'• A living prairie of panting, struggling buffaloes, and the whole herd under full steam, stampeding and heading straight for me.

'My heart jusb fairly jumped into my mouth, for they weren't more than a quarter of a mile away, bub it waen'b any time to stand thinking, so I iust turned down that ravine faster than I could run—it would kill a man to do it in cold blood, but 1 hnew I had to reach my horse or lose my life.

'As I neared the horse he plunged and tore at the rope as though he were crazy, and ib was evident that ho had sensed the danger. ' I had gob to within twenty yards of him when he made a frantic plunge, snapped the rope, and away he went. I turned in despair just as the first buffaloes reached the brow of the hill, but I knew how useless it would be bo waste ammunition. I think, however, that I would have fought ib out had I not thought of the muskeg which commenced about forty yards from where I stood; 1 knew thab though I might got a little way upon the quaking mass by being very careful, still it would bo mighty poor footing tor a stampeding hord of buffalo. There wasn't a moment to lose, so I headed for it aB hard aa I could run, but short as the distance was, I realised that it would be a close race between myself and the frightened brutes already surging down the steep bluffs, heedless of anything except flight. ' Just as I reached the edge of the morass the living wave broke upon the bottom of the ravine, causing the quaking ground to undulate in long swells which very nearly threw me headlong into the muddy water. 11 recovered myself, however, and, making a desperate spring, landed upon one of those small moss islands which float here and there upon fcho surface ot the quagmire. One more leap and I had reached my limit. I could got no further, for there was nob another island within twenty feet. ' I turned and faced the snorting, foamflecked mass of maddened buffaloes.

' One glance showed me thab only the extreme left of the herd would face the swamp—the great mass passing to the westward, still I knew that I had nob yet got owb of the scrape. • The first creature to reach the odge attempted to hold back, but ho tried in vain. The irresistible power behind drove him fprward to his doom, and wibli a loud bellow he sprang upon the nearoeb island, but ib was not built to carry him and he instantly disappeared. 'I looked from the spot whero ho had gone down and saw to my horror that what I had crossed as safe land had now sunk under the combined weight of the herd, and that between my frail raft and the dry land was now fully eighty feob of quagmire tilled with drowning and fighting animals, somo of which were knee-deep, while others barely hud their noses out of water. The struggles and cries of the poor creatures were horrible to witness as one after another thoy were trampled under foot and pressed under water by the stronger among the herd crowding forward, 'Up to this time but few of them had succeeded in fighting their way through the thick slime to the bland upon which I had taken refuge, and these I had'boen fprced to shoot for my self-protection.

' ' There was one, however, thab noarly proved too much for me. A young and sturdy bull after making a vigorous rush across the backs of the others, during which he slipped and half fell threo or four times only to recover hirasolf with a pnort of terror," finally reached the end of his living bridge, and, gathering himself fora Jast effort, attempted to spring upon my stronghold. Fortunately for me tho great fellow slipped, and in falling short succeeded only in striking the island with his massive woolly head.

' A3 a mattor of course the shock threw mo off my feet and when I had recovcrod myself the bull had <rot one leg upon the moss and had hnlt raised hitnsolf from tho water.

1 My rifle was empty so I wielded it ac a club, striking him upon the nose until hi? jroara echoed down the ravine ; bub for nil my clubbing I could not drivohim back and in another instant he had secured a footing with the other leg.

' Never shall I forget -the agony of that moment—standing as I did upon a small .moss island scarcely twelve feet in diameter with a bottomless quagmire all around, and an enraged buflalo drawing me resistleasly into the folds of the heaving, bubbling mud, in which were either dead or dying a full hundred of the wild cattle. 'Ab thab moment I remembered my hunting knife and drawing it from by belb drove it to the hilt into the bull's neck.

' The blow was a good one and as the warm life bfood poured from his mouth and nostrils, I knew that I was saved. A moment later the huge, strong form sank lifelessly into the mire, the island righted itself and I was again master of the situation.

' The rest was comparatively easy, although on one occasion I had as many as a dozen struggling animals close around me, and all clamouring for admittance at the same time. Bub the poor creatures were too weak to raise themselves, in fact moeb of them sunk without causing me.much trouble, and very soon all became still, but never had the moon shone down upon a more ghastly struggle for existence than had occupied the last half hour. ' After casting around for some time for a means of reaching the shore I finally succeeded in crossing upon the backs of the dead buffaloes, but it was ticklish work.

' Well, to cut a long story short, for this is my farm which we ara coming to, I managed to get enough hides out of that pool to make my trip a very profitable one, but I had to get a new horse before I could market them, for the old one I never saw again/