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Among these personages, one who peculiarly took my fancy was Captain Bonneville, of the United States army; who, in a rambling kind of enterprise, had strangely ingrafted the trapper and hunter upon the soldier. As his expeditions and adventures will form the leading theme of the following pages, a few biographical particulars concerning him may not be unacceptable.
"That means, I suppose," said Owen, "that a muskrat skin taken away up in Northern Michigan or Canada is more valuable than the same sized pelt that was captured down, say, in Florida." "Often worth twice or three times as much," remarked the trapper. "Stands to reason, too, since the little critters don't have much need of thick hides where the weather is generally warm."
As they reached the grove, one or two of the number glanced back, but saw nothing of the pursuing Indians. They had not yet recovered from their terror. Not a moment was to be lost. The experienced eye of the trapper lost no time in selecting the very best Indian horses, and a moment later all four rode out from the grove at a full gallop, and headed toward the Missouri.
It was here at wild goose creek that I first began running trap lines under an old rocky mountain trapper. And here where I also learned to skin, bait traps, make dead falls and cut and sew up my own clothes, make snow shoes and paddle canoes, build camps and learn the various tricks of indians and trappers, also how to doctor myself when sick and to avoid the dangers of the wilderness.
The dogs stole softly to their accustomed places, Wild Bill dropped into a chair, and the Trapper addressed himself mechanically to some domestic concerns. At last the silence became oppressive. Wild Bill turned in his chair, and, facing the Trapper, said: "It's too devilish bad!"
Finally, Trapper Jim, and possibly the ether two boys, would have to make the rounds of the traps to take out any catch, and set them again. On the whole it promised to be a rather energetic day. Breakfast having been disposed of the boys all got ready to move on. This time the dogs were taken, because they might prove valuable in case a bear was caught.
"Ay, ay, lad, I'm comin' to him," replied the trapper, with the humorous twinkle that seemed to hover always about the corners of his eyes, ready for instant development.
"Of course," continued the old trapper, "my one reason for asking this is to keep you from ruining good pelts. It would be pretty tough now if after I caught that black fox I found that his skin had been so badly torn by birdshot that it wasn't worth handling." "That's right, it would," admitted Owen. "You can depend on us to hold back," Max added, sincerely.
"It's possible," he acknowledged; "quite possible, but not just likely. And why should the trapper, if he was a spy, tell the scout that the buffalo were there, and even recommend the hunt?" "Yes, why?" Kiddie asked. "For my own part, I don't believe that there's a herd of buffalo within a hundred miles of Washakee Peak.
An' there's Redhand, the old trapper that's bin off and on between this place and the Rocky Mountains for nigh fifty years, I believe." "Oh, I know him well. He must be made of iron, I think, to go through what he does at his time of life. I wonder what his right name is?" "Nobody knows that, lad.
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