“Hold!” cried Ishmael, knocking up the levelled weapon of his too eager son. “‘Tis not a wolf; but a hound of thorough blood and bottom.
Ha! we have hunters nigh: there ar’ two of them!”
He was still speaking, when the animals in question came leaping on the track of the deer, striving with noble ardour to outdo each other.
One was an aged dog, whose strength seemed to be sustained purely by generous emulation, and the other a pup, that gambolled even while he pressed most warmly on the chase.
They both ran, however, with clean and powerful leaps, carrying their noses high, like animals of the most keen and subtle scent.
They had passed; and in another minute they would have been running open-mouthed with the deer in view, had not the younger dog suddenly bounded from the course, and uttered a cry of surprise.
His aged companion stopped also, and returned panting and exhausted to the place, where the other was whirling around in swift, and apparently in mad evolutions, circling the spot in his own footsteps, and continuing his outcry, in a short, snappish barking.
But, when the elder hound had reached the spot, he seated himself, and lifting his nose high into the air, he raised a long, loud, and wailing howl.
“It must be a strong scent,” said Abner, who had been, with the rest of the family, an admiring observer of the movements of the dogs, “that can break off two such creatur’s so suddenly from their trail.”
“Murder them!” cried Abiram; “I’ll swear to the old hound; ‘tis the dog of the trapper, whom we now know to be our mortal enemy.”
Though the brother of Esther gave so hostile advice, he appeared in no way ready to put it in execution himself.
The surprise, which had taken possession of the whole party, exhibited itself in his own vacant wondering stare, as strongly as in any of the admiring visages by whom he was surrounded.
His denunciation, therefore, notwithstanding its dire import, was disregarded; and the dogs were left to obey the impulses of their mysterious instinct, without let or hinderance.
It was long before any of the spectators broke the silence; but the squatter, at length, so far recollected his authority, as to take on himself the right to control the movements of his children.
“Come away, boys; come away, and leave the hounds to sing their tunes for their own amusement,” Ishmael said, in his coldest manner. “I scorn to take the life of a beast, because its master has pitched himself too nigh my clearing; come away, boys, come away; we have enough of our own work before us, without turning aside to do that of the whole neighbourhood.”
“Come not away!” cried Esther, in tones that sounded like the admonitions of some sibyl. “I say, come not away, my children.
There is a meaning and a warning in this; and as I am a woman and a mother, will I know the truth of it all!”
So saying, the awakened wife brandished her weapon, with an air that was not without its wild and secret influence, and led the way towards the spot where the dogs still remained, filling the air with their long-drawn and piteous complaints.
The whole party followed in her steps, some too indolent to oppose, others obedient to her will, and all more or less excited by the uncommon character of the scene.
“Tell me, you Abner—Abiram—Ishmael!” the woman cried, standing over a spot where the earth was trampled and beaten, and plainly sprinkled with blood; “tell me, you who ar’ hunters! what sort of animal has here met his death?—Speak!—Ye ar’ men, and used to the signs of the plains; is it the blood of wolf or panther?”
“A buffaloe—and a noble and powerful creatur’ has it been!” returned the squatter, who looked down calmly on the fatal signs which so strangely affected his wife. “Here are the marks of the spot where he has struck his hoofs into the earth, in the death-struggle; and yonder he has plunged and torn the ground with his horns.
Ay, a buffaloe bull of wonderful strength and courage has he been!”
“And who has slain him?” continued Esther; “man where are the offals?—Wolves!—They devour not the hide!
Tell me, ye men and hunters, is this the blood of a beast?”
“The creatur’ has plunged over the hillock,” said Abner, who had proceeded a short distance beyond the rest of the party.
“Ah! there you will find it, in yon swale of alders.
Look! a thousand carrion birds, ar’ hovering above the carcass.”
“The animal has still life in him,” returned the squatter, “or the buzzards would settle upon their prey!
By the action of the dogs it must be something ravenous; I reckon it is the white bear from the upper falls.
They are said to cling desperately to life!”
“Let us go back,” said Abiram; “there may be danger, and there can be no good in attacking a ravenous beast.
Remember, Ishmael, ‘twill be a risky job, and one of small profit!”
The young men smiled at this new proof of the well known pusillanimity of their uncle.
The oldest even proceeded so far as to express his contempt, by bluntly saying—
“It will do to cage with the other animal we carry; then we may go back double-handed into the settlements, and set up for showmen, around the court-houses and gaols of Kentucky.”
The threatening frown, which gathered on the brow of his father, admonished the young man to forbear.
Exchanging looks that were half rebellious with his brethren, he saw fit to be silent.
But instead of observing the caution recommended by Abiram, they proceeded in a body, until they again came to a halt within a few yards of the matted cover of the thicket.
The scene had now, indeed, become wild and striking enough to have produced a powerful effect on minds better prepared, than those of the unnurtured family of the squatter, to resist the impressions of so exciting a spectacle.
The heavens were, as usual at the season, covered with dark, driving clouds, beneath which interminable flocks of aquatic birds were again on the wing, holding their toilsome and heavy way towards the distant waters of the south.
The wind had risen, and was once more sweeping over the prairie in gusts, which it was often vain to oppose; and then again the blasts would seem to mount into the upper air, as if to sport with the drifting vapour, whirling and rolling vast masses of the dusky and ragged volumes over each other, in a terrific and yet grand disorder.
Above the little brake, the flocks of birds still held their flight, circling with heavy wings about the spot, struggling at times against the torrent of wind, and then favoured by their position and height, making bold swoops upon the thicket, away from which, however, they never failed to sail, screaming in terror, as if apprised, either by sight or instinct, that the hour of their voracious dominion had not yet fully arrived.
Ishmael stood for many minutes, with his wife and children clustered together, in an amazement, with which awe was singularly mingled, gazing in death-like stillness on the sight.
The voice of Esther at length broke the charm, and reminded the spectators of the necessity of resolving their doubts in some manner more worthy of their manhood, than by dull and inactive observation.
“Call in the dogs!” she said; “call in the hounds, and put them into the thicket; there ar’ men enough of ye, if ye have not lost the spirit with which I know ye were born, to tame the tempers of all the bears west of the big river.
Call in the dogs, I say, you Enoch!
Abner!
Gabriel! has wonder made ye deaf?”
One of the young men complied; and having succeeded in detaching the hounds from the place, around which, until then, they had not ceased to hover, he led them down to the margin of the thicket.
“Put them in, boy; put them in,” continued the woman; “and you, Ishmael and Abiram, if any thing wicked or hurtful comes forth, show them the use of your rifles, like frontier-men.