Ti-ti-pu: a Boy of Red River
Copyright© 2024 by J. Macdonald Oxley
Chapter 10: Lost on the Prairie
Not until he had become embedded as it were in the panic-stricken mass of buffalo did Mr. Macrae observe his son’s peril.
At almost the same moment Narcisse caught sight of the boy, and, with a characteristic exclamation of horror, at once drove his horse into the herd, that he might, if possible, get to Hector’s side.
‘Take care! Take care!’ he shouted with all his might, not recking that his voice was utterly lost in the thunder of the countless hoofs. ‘Keep hold, eh!’
Mr. Macrae followed his example, and the two men plunged into the mob of terrified monsters, steering as best they could for the imperilled boy.
Meanwhile, Hector, who had kept both his head and his seat wonderfully, not forgetting the purpose of the whole affair, pointed his gun behind the shoulder of a fine fat buffalo and fired.
The muzzle of the gun was so close to the buffalo that the discharge burned the animal’s hide, and the recoil almost knocked Hector out of his saddle.
But the bullet found its way to the great creature’s heart, and, a moment later, down it went, to the delight of the young huntsman. The loud report was not without effect upon the buffalo that hemmed in Hector. They swerved off to right and left, giving him more room and thereby enabling Narcisse and his father to reach his side.
‘Ah, laddie!’ cried his father. ‘I was in great fear for ye. Ye should na have gone into such danger. Be carefu’ now, for ye’re not yet out of harm’s way.’
Hector nodded gaily in reply. He was so exultant over his success that he could think of nothing else for the moment.
As neither Narcisse nor Mr. Macrae had yet bagged their buffalo, they left Hector to stay beside his prize while they went on after the fleeing herd, upon whom the tremendous pace was beginning to tell.
The reports of the guns followed fast upon each other, as the different members of the hunting party, choosing a fine fat cow, or a prime young bull, brought down their victim with unerring aim.
At last the pursuit of the herd ended, and the hunters returned to take stock of results. These were certainly satisfactory: nearly a score of buffalo, all in the best of condition, had been secured, and a supply of food that would keep the whole settlement for many weeks was ensured.
Very proud and content was Buffalo Carter, and all the other members of the party, particularly Hector, whose buffalo was as fine a specimen as any of the others.
‘Eh, but it was a warm, stirrin’ experience,’ remarked Mr. Macrae, with emphasis. ‘I never expected to see the like of it. ‘Tis a wonderful country, this, and there’s a powerful lot to be learned. But I’m right glad I’ve come, laddie,’ he went on, laying his hand fondly upon Hector’s shoulder, ‘and with the favour of God we shall yet do better here than e’er we could in the land we left.’
This was a good deal for him to say, but the excitement of the hunt had for the time swept away his reserve, and he was in almost as high spirits as Hector.
So soon as they had rested a little, the buffalo hunters set to work to skin the buffalo, and to cut the rich meat into long strips, which, after being dried in the sun, were then minced as small as possible, and so made into ‘pemmican,’ which was then packed away for use in the winter.
Of course, there was great feasting meanwhile, and the special tit-bits, such as the tongues and the humps, were cooked and eaten with the keenest relish.
Dour and Dandy were so well supplied with bits of juicy steak, or well-covered bones, that they were in danger of overfeeding, and Mr. Macrae had to limit their allowance.
It took several days to prepare the pemmican, and then, laden with it and with the buffalo-skins which would at leisure be made into the warmest of robes, the whole party moved slowly back to Pembina.
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