Читать книгу The Adventures of Big-Foot Wallace (Illustrated Edition) - John Crittenden Duval - Страница 9
ОглавлениеA RATTLESNAKE BITE—SINGULAR SPRING—WILD ARTICHOKES—INDIAN ART GALLERY—WALLACE’S FIRST BEAR.
October 18th.—We were up “by times,” and ready to “roll out” at sunrise. Saw some Indian “signs,” but they were all old, except one camp, which appeared to have been recently occupied. In going through a thick chaparral to-day, my pony was bitten on the leg by a rattlesnake. An old hunter told me to chew up some tobacco, and tie it on the wound, which I did, and, except a slight swelling, no bad results followed from the bite. (I have seen tobacco used frequently since as a remedy for the bite of a rattlesnake; and there is no doubt it is a good one, but not equal to whisky or brandy taken in large quantities.)
Passed over a great deal of broken, rocky country to-day, watered by little streams that were as clear as crystal, and filled with trout, perch, and other kinds of fish. We “nooned” for a couple of hours on one of these streams, in one of the pools of which we all took a refreshing bath.
In the evening, went on perhaps ten miles farther, and pitched camp on one of the head-waters of Cowhouse Creek. The country passed over is very broken and rocky, with occasional cedar-brakes and “mots” of wild cherry and plum trees.
We passed a very remarkable spring to-day. It breaks out at the extreme point of a high tongue of land that runs down into the bend of a large creek. The water boils up out of a basin the size of a hogshead, which, running over, falls in a beautiful cascade into the creek below. It looked more like an artificial fountain than a natural spring. We saw some fresh Indian signs, but no Indians.
Our camp to-night is under a large, projecting rock, and very fortunate for us it was; for a heavy rainstorm came up about 12 o’clock, which would have “ducked” us thoroughly if it had not been for our stone roof. As it was, we slept dry and comfortably, notwithstanding the heavy rain that fell.
October 19th, Sunday.—Every little creek and gully is swimming this morning, and, as it is Sunday, we have concluded to lay over a day and rest ourselves and animals. After breakfast, one of the boys went out exploring, and in an hour or two came back, bringing with him a large quantity of a vegetable which he called the artichoke. We cooked some for dinner, and found them excellent. It is, I believe, a species of bear-grass; at least, it resembles it very much, except that its leaves or spires are notched like a saw. It grows abundantly everywhere in the hilly and rocky country. The root is the part eaten, and is roasted in the ashes like a potato. Since then I have frequently lived solely on them for days at a time, when out on expeditions, and I can recommend them as a wholesome and nutritious vegetable to all “wayworn wanderers of the Western wilds.”
Near our camp there is a perpendicular wall of rock, ten or twelve feet high, with a smooth, even face, on which the Indians have painted, with some sort of red earth, the likenesses of men and animals. Some of the animals are well drawn, particularly a buffalo; others are imaginary beings, unlike anything that was ever seen. One picture represents a fight between the Indians and the whites, and, of course, the Indians are giving the white men a terrible flogging. One white man is represented kneeling down, with his hands lifted up, as if begging for his life, while an Indian warrior stands over him, with tomahawk raised above his head, in the act of dashing out the poor fellow’s brains.
Near this place I picked up some small pieces of quartz rock, with shining particles scattered about through them, which I put in my shot-pouch. I afterward had them examined at San Antonio, and the shining particles were said to be gold.
In the evening we all went out “berrying,” and gathered quantities of haws, red and black, and a sort of berry that I don’t know the name of, which grows upon a little thorny shrub, and is very good to eat, though rather sour.
The weather faired off in the evening, and the night was clear and pleasant. Slept again under our “rock house.”
October 20th.—We took our course again, which was about due north, and, crossing-a range of mountains at a place called “Walker’s Pass,” we travelled over a rough, broken country to the South Leon Creek, a distance, I suppose, of fifteen or sixteen miles, where we “nooned.” We saw some fresh buffalo signs on the way, and our old hunters began to whet their bills for fat steaks, marrow-bones, and “humps;” but as yet we have seen none of the animals. We found the grass very fine on the bottoms of this creek, and have concluded to lay over until to-morrow, and give our horses a chance to recruit, as they have had but poor grazing for the last forty-eight hours.
We had been in camp but a little while, when one of the boys found a “bee-tree,” which we cut down, and took from it at least five gallons of honey.
In the evening I went out hunting, but saw no game to shoot at. On my way back to camp, I stopped to rest for a few minutes in a little cañon that lay between two rocky hills, covered with thick chaparral. After a while, my attention was attracted by a noise in the bushes, and, looking around, I saw a large bear coming directly toward me. I sat perfectly still, and he did not notice me, but came slowly along, now and then stopping to turn over a stick or a rock, in search, I suppose, of insects. When within twenty feet of me, I took sight of his fore-shoulder and fired, and he fell dead in his tracks. This was my first bear. He was very fat, and would have weighed, I suppose, three hundred pounds. I went back to camp, which was not more than half a mile off, and, returning with two of the men to assist me, we butchered him, and, packing the meat on a horse, we soon had some of it roasting before our fires. What a feast we had that night on “bear-meat and honey”! If the mess of pottage that Esau sold his birthright for, was as good as bear-meat and honey, and he had a good appetite, I believe the poor fellow was excusable.
In the night we saw a long line of light to the west-ward of us, and supposed the Indians had fired the prairie. The night was pleasant and warm.
