The bear hunters of the Rocky Mountains

Front matter

AT v* *

ggJBPV XV \

« OCT

Contents

Chapter I. — The Tutor and Pupil — On Board the Nuggt *. — Yilliam Ant* cliffe — A tall into a Tar-bucket, and the consequences, . . page 1

Chap. II. — The Captain in his cabin — A Visit to the Steerage passengers — Dick’s friendly Arrangements — A Fatal Gale — The Landing, . . 12

Chap. III. — The Last Trip — The Fate of the Emigrants — The Wreck of the Nugget — Dreary Prospects — Captain Scruton’s Ruling Passion, . 2d

Chapter I

The Tutor and Pupil. — On Board the Nugget. — The Educatioi Question. — The Plans of the Emigrants. — William Arncliffe. — A fall into a Tar-bucket, and the consequences.

Two gentlemen were walking together through the pleasant gardens of College ; one, a tall, hand-

some, animated youth of twenty, the other of more mature years, of a mild, calm, intellectual countenance, who wore an air of dignity consistent' with his position. In university parlance, they stood in the situation of tutor and pupil.

“ I do not object, my dear Harold,” said the tutor, “ to accompany you through the known and unknown regions of the Western world ; but I feel a strong reluctance to commence our expedition in such rough style. Why, in the name of comfort and repose, do you choose to take your passage in a common emigrant ship, when you can command the conveniences of home by sailing in a first-rate steamer ? 4’

“ Because, Rodney, I am a whimsical fellow,” answered Harold. “ What do I care for comfort and repose ? I am young and healthy, and full of 1 (1)

curiosity ; I desire novelty, adventure, even trial, or a little adversity, if such a spoiled child of fortune as I am, can safely bear the descent. Do you love me well enough, my dear guardian and friend, to overlook my selfishness, and rough it with me for the next ten or twelve months? I am nearly twenty, and must then return to celebrate my majority, and release you from your troublesome responsibility .”

“I have had you in my charge, my dear boy,” answered Mr. Rodney, “ since the death of your parents, and I shall not suffer you to undertake this Quixotic expedition without me. I am aware that I shall be

laughed at by my grave brethren of for this

middle-aged frolic ; but, defying ridicule, I consent to be Sancho Panza.”

“ No such thing, Rodney,” said Harold ; “ John Carter, my groom, is to be my Sancho ; he would be no hero in the field of battle, but he is a keen sportsman, a good shot, and once on the hunting-grounds, I would advise the bears and buffaloes to look about them ; Johr will not spare them.”

“ Very well,” replied Mr. Rodney ; “ then let John look after a ship that can be warranted not to come to pieces and scatter its passengers amidst the billows of the turbulent Pacific. I affect no judgment in nautical matters.

“I will write to Liverpool to-day,” said Ilaroid, “and I have no doubt we shall both acquire a large amount of seamanship during our voyage ; for we must keep our eyes open, and have our pens and pencils ready. I hope when we return, you will publish a book, Rodney.”

“ Not I, truly, Harold,” answered his friend ; u I

OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

have no fancy for making the public acquainted with my secret thoughts and my blundering guesses at facts. 1 may observe and note, but it will be for my own future recreation in my solitary hours.”

“ What a selfish old cynic you are, Rodney,” said Harold. “ Then I must be the author, and you must purvey for me. Now let us make up our baggage, on the approved principles of compactness and economy. No superfluities ; no large books, remember.”

u I must have the companions of my leisure hours,” said Mr. Rodney.

“ But I don’t mean you to have any leisure hours,” replied Harold ; “ I mean that we shall fatigue ourselves so thoroughly during the day with hard work, that we shall be glad to devote our short leisure to eating and sleeping.”

“ A mere animal existence,” exclaimed Mr. Rodney.

u Be it so, Socrates,” said the youth ; “ shall we not be accumulating materials to feed the thoughtful mind for the next ten years ? Let me be arbitrary this one time, my dear Rodney.”

“ You are ever arbitrary,” answered Rodney, “ and I, as ever, remain your very obedient — tutor.”

It was, indeed, a fact that the placid tutor usually submitted with resignation to the harmless whims of his beloved pupil and ward. Harold Croft on was an only child, left an orphan at an early age, with a large fortune. His guardian, who had been the intimate friend of his father, was a fellow and professor at

College. Of an affectionate disposition, without

near relations, he became so fondly attached tp Ji|s lively and impetuous ward, that, satisfied with his progress in study and the rectitude of liis conduct, he was indulgent to his taste for novelty and excitement, and did not attempt to control his adventurous rambling, provided he was himself always by his side to watch over his safety and moderate his impetuosity. Even now, though it cost him a pang to abandon the luxurious ease of his studious life at Cambridge, he at once agreed to follow his beloved pupil on his wild project, rather than trust him unguarded amongst strange and perilous associations.

And thus it was that, ten days afterwards, in the pleasant days of August, the gay, carleess, prosperous child of aristocracy, and the retired, gentle, philosophic Rodney found themselves in the inconvenient state cabin of the pompously -advertised emigrant vessel, the Nugget , laden with speculators for California, and a party of emigrants, driven by poverty, or induced by domestic relations to seek a home in a new world.

“ Now for it, Dominie,” said Harold, when the disagreeables of the first two or three days of sailing had subsided ; “ don’t look so wistfully at that wooden case of literary lumber. Let us go on deck and study human nature under adverse circumstances. The skipper himself seems to have but one idea, the endeavor to make his ship last out the voyage ; the mate is a coarse ruffianly fellow ; we shall derive no amusement from them, but I hope we may glean something from the steerage passengers.”

The two friends were the only cabin passengers, and, limited as the accommodations were, they had the satisfaction of having them to themselves, and might arrange their books and other possessions as they chose, certain that they would remain undisturbed

The} now went on deck, where, after a lew words with the taciturn captain, Harold proceeded to make the acquaintance of the sailors; and afterwards they ventured among the noisy crowd who tenanted the steerage, from whom Rodney retreated in dismay, alarmed and annoyed at the clamor of tongues, ‘he barking of dogs, the crying of children, and the confused scene of cooking, nursing, and card-playing that pervaded this portion of the vessel.

But in one corner of the deck Harold saw a quieter group, tovTards whom he drew his compliant friend. An old withered man, small in stature, with bright keen eyes, was seated with a book in his hand, giving a lesson to a rough, good-natured looking lad about fifteen years of age ; a taller youth of superior appearance was lounging pensively against the bulwarks ; while two neat little women, who seemed to be mother and daughter, were seated on wooden boxes, knitting industriously. As the two gentlemen approached, the sharp eyes of the old man fell on them, and, rising, he made a profound bow, saying,

“ Gentlemen, I do my honors to ye. Mike ! is that yer manners ? Sure it’s not many the like of your honors, the rale gentry that is, that come to bless the eyes of the poor emigrants. Wont it be the thirst of laming every thing that brings your honors to this same poor place ? It’s maybe, like Solomon himself, you’d ‘ searcli concerning all things done under heaven.’ True it is, then, I pray you will not find it ‘ vexation of spirit,’ as he was finding it ; wise as he was, and writing many books, as, like, your honors will be maning to do.’’

“ I am by no means certain that I shall write a book,” said Harold, laughing; “but if I should do so, 1 * my friend, I must know your name, that you may have a distinguished place in it. May I ask what has tempted you to emigrate from your favored island ? ”

“ Well, thin, to spake the thruth, your honor ; nade,” replied the old man then, quickly resuming his formei pompous manner, and correcting his brogue, he continued : “ It was altogether the times, your honor : isn’t it mad our people are turning? and Dennis O’Reilly wouldn’t be the man to turn with them. Would I be seeing the childer at my school knowing no betther than them in England of the people that came afore them ; and forgetting all the ancient glory of their counthry, to be laming things about trade, and mines, and drawing pictures, and singing, and such-like — things that’s beneath a school-master to tache ; and didn’t I scorn to be meddling with the same ? and wouldn’t I sooner be burning my fine old classics, seeing I’d be having no use for them. It’s their edication question, your honor ; sure, isn’t it their ignorance that is sending me away from my counthry? Would I be going to school myself at seventy years old, and me fit to tache them all, out and out?”

“ And therefore, Mr. O’Reilly,” said Harold, “ you are making a voyage to teach the classics to the gold-diggers.”

“ Sure, thin, I’d niver be thryin’ them,” answered the old man ; “ they’d niver be mindin’ their tasks at all, not they. Didn’t the ancients themselves write it down that the love of gold made a man no betther nor a brute ? I’d be gittin’ no gold-diggers at all for scholars. But, to spake the thruth, your honor, it wasn’t a choice was left me at all. My lady she sends out her people, that cannot live yonder, altogether fbee, to Austhralia and to

OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

America; and these boys, and the woman, and the girl, they were in the mind to go to California ; and me not having a penny, and my school taken away, my lady she says, ‘ Thin, Mr. O’Reilly, sure, won’t you be crossing with your people ? you’ll be minding the young, and they’ll be caring for you ; ’ and I was agraable to that same.”

“ But when you land in California,” asked Mr. Rodney, “ what do you propose to do ? ”

“ Sure, thin, your honor,” answered he, “ wont I stop at the town to see the boys settle at their work, and the women rint a cabin and set up their wash-tubs ? and if I wouldn’t be liking the ways of the gold-diggers, I’d be walking on a bit further to seek out some of our own people in Illinois county.”

“ But, my good friend, that is beyond the Rocky Mountains,” said Mr. Rodney.

“ Will it be mountains I’d be turning back for ? ” replied Dennis ; “ would there be any mountains of America aqual to our own ancient mountains of Killarney?”

It would not have been easy to convince the old man that the Rocky Mountains would bar his journey to his friends, or that they were more inaccessible than Irish mountains ; so Harold turned away to ask the taller of the two boys why he had left his home for a strange country.

The young man colored, and did not speak ; the elder woman answered for him.

“ Is it Willie, your honor ? isn’t he my own sister’s son, and she gone to God ? Pretty girl she was ; and a fine wake we made her, God be praised ! And wasn’t the boy left on me, in regard of his father being a wild Englisher, urning his back on his child and his dead wife, and making off to Californy to git gold •, and niver a grain of that same has the boy set eyes on, nor a letther at all to say he was coming for his own. And Will, draining his father would be atin by savages, will nades come out to sake him ; and he niver likin’ to talk about him. Maybe your honor will be excusin’ his manners, in regard he were born in England, and knowing no betther, poor boy.”

By inquiries made of Captain Seruton, Harold learnt that the father of William Arneliffe had been the English valet of an Irish nobleman ; that he had married the pretty sister of Peggy Maurice, and, with his savings, had returned to England to commence business ; but, after some years of imprudence and extravagance, he had brought his wife to her sister to die, and left his boy to live on the poor Irish peasants, till he went to California in the sanguine hope of making another fortune.

With the imperfect education, the shyness, and the prejudices of an English boy of his class, William pined in his aunt’s comfortless cabin for two years, waiting in vain to hear from his father; and when poverty compelled the widow Maurice and her family to emigrate, the charity of the benevolent lady who owned their cabin having furnished the means, the poor women, in compassion to the unhappy deserted boy, selected California as their destination, that he might accompany them, in the forlorn hope of discovering the fate of his father.

It was some time before the painful reserve of the boy gave way before the frank kindness of Harold Crofton, and he was induced to speak of himself and of his intentions. It had been the wish of his fond mother tc

OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

bring up her son “ to a trade ; ” and, till he was thirteen years of age, she contrived to procure him a common country-town education. Then the ruin of his father and the fatal sickness of his mother drove the family to seek a shelter among those who were poorer than them-* selves. The total want of cleanliness, the disorder, and the destitution of the widow’s cabin, were scarcely more repugnant to the taste of the indulged boy, long accustomed to a home of comparative luxury, than to Mrs. Arncliffe, weaned, by fourteen years of English comforts, from the careless and unthrifty habits of her early days. The poor woman rapidly sunk amidst her privations and sorrows, and then William shrunk with still more disgust from the want and misery that surrounded him.

u But, my poor boy,” said Mr. Rodney, roused from his studies by William’s tale of sorrow, extorted by the sympathy of Harold, “ why did you not fulfil the intentions of your parents ; why did you not return to England, and adopt the mode of life they had planned for you ? ”

“ It was no longer possible for me to attempt it, sir,” said the boy. “ Without money, without friends, and without any knowledge of mechanics or trade, I could not obtain a living ; and I had neither the wish nor the ability to become a servant.”

“ An unpleasant position, certainly,” murmured Mr. Rodney. “ Like the unjust steward of Scripture, you could not dig ; to beg you were ashamed. I trust that you had no inclination, like him, to turn to dishonesty to gain a living.”

“ My mother taught me, sir,” replied William indig nantly, “ that I could not be dishonest, and hope to see the kingdom of God.”

“ I honor her memory, young man,” said Mr. Rodney. u But I am concerned for you. What can you do in California, unused as you are to labor ? ”

“ My first care will be, sir,” answered he, “ to seek out my father, and endeavor, if possible, to save him from the evil life of the gold-diggers. Then I must try, in this wide new world, to earn the means of supporting myself, and those dear friends who helped me in my need. I think, sir, a young man may do any thing he likes, if he means to do it.”

u You are right, William,” said Mr. Rodney ; u try, and persevere, and doubt not you will succeed. Your aunt seems able and willing to work, and Mike looks strong and active ; but that pretty young girl does not appear fitted for hard labor.”

“ Mary was cook-maid at the Castle,” said William ; “ but the kitchen-work did not suit her health. Then my lady tried her in the nursery ; but when aunt and old Mr. O’Reilly, who lodged with her, agreed to emigrate, and Mary heard that Mike and I were for going out too, she couldn’t settle to stay behind ; and my lady was good enough to pay all our passage. God knows what may become of us ; but we cannot well be worse off than we were in Ireland.”

“ And Mr. O’Reilly keeps up his school on the voyage, I see,” remarked Mr. Rodney.

“ He is not pleased with Mike, sir,” replied William, “ because he goes among the sailors, when he ought to be minding his Latin ; but Dick Marlin, the carpenter teaches him carpenter-work, and climbing ropes, and swabbing, and such-like, and he takes to any thing. I wish I was like him ; but I always feel shy among the> rough men, they swear so awfully, and scowl on me if 1 go near, as i f I was an intruder.”

A great noise on deck drew the quiet part)' from their cabin. They found the mate storming and swearing, and Mike held up by his friend Dick Marlin, looking very pale, and appearing to suffer pain. William hurried to his cousin to inquire what had occurred ; but poor Mike was unable to tell him.

“ Why ye see, my lad,” said Dick, here it were This here meddling young rascal were at his monkey tricks, climbing, lubberly-like, and all at once he losses his head and falls down reet on yon tar-bucket, and upsets it, and Mr. Sharpley there, he comes in for a splash. With that, it angers him ; and he catches up a marlin-spike, and handles the lad a bit roughly. I reckon his arm’s lamed badly, and ye’d better carry him to your women, and let them doctor him a bit.”

“Is there no surgeon in the ship?” asked Mr. Rodney.

“ Surgeon ! ” . repeated the mate, insolently. “ It’s hardly like a surgeon could be kept out of what yon beggarly troop pays. He’d have a nice life among ’em ; for they’re fighting from morn till night.”

“ You had no right to strike my cousin so cruelly,” said William, much agitated at the sight of the boy’s distress.

“ It was a brutal act,” said Harold. “ I shall immediately complain to Captain Scruton of the unwarrantable and unfeeling conduct of bis officer.”

The man laughed scornfully as he said, “I’d like to hear what he says to your complaints and your high words. You paid your passage, and you get your passage. What more would you have? What have Bach as you to do with the government of the ship? Mind your own business, and keep your own place.”

THE BEAR-HUNTEliS

Chapter II

The Captain in his cabin. — A Visit to the Steerage passenger*.

Dick’s friendly Arrangements. — Bad Weather anl Short Com

inons. — A Fatal Gale. — Breakers in sight. — The Landing.

While William led Mike to his mother, Harold bent his way to the captain’s cabin, followed by Mr. Rodney, who was rather apprehensive that the impetuosity of his pupil might lead to mischief. Captain Scruton listened with apathy to the complaint of Mr. Crofton against his mate, and coldly replied, that he never interfered with Sharpley’s management of the emigrant passengers ; they were an unruly set, and paid badly ; it was the last time he would fill up his ship with such troublesome ballast. It was likely to be a long vo}rage ; the wind was always contrary ; he was an unlucky man, and always lost more than he gained by his trips.

“ Truly, Captain Scruton,” answered Crofton, “ your vessel seems to be in a crazy condition ; your carpenters are always repairing damages ; but that is not the present question ; I must insist on your officer treating these poor emigrants with humanity ; and if I hear' more complaints, I shall seek justice when we reach San Francisco.”

u I wish you may find it,” said Scruton. “ In San Francisco you ’ll find every man is thinking of himself, and how he is to make his own fortune. They’ve no

OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

time for courts of law and assizes, and sucli-like English nuisances. When things get wrong, men try to right them as they can ; if they miss, it’s their own fault. There’s no mistake, Sharpley is a temper ; and I’d advise you to let him be, or he’ll not forget it. He bullies me when his blood is up.”

“ Then why do you bring out such a brutal fellow ? ** said Crofton.

“ He’s not without his good points,” answered Scruton ; “ he’s a good sailor, picks up passengers, and manages them cleverly, though it’s true he’s not liked. But what then ? I get him cheap, and I’d not like to change him.”

Crofton was highly indignant with the mean-spirited captain, and would have continued to plead for Mike, but Mr. Rodney drew him away from the hopeless task ; and they proceeded to visit the crowded den, where, stretched on a mattress in one corner, they found the poor boy, his weeping mother bathing his bruised arm with the rum which Dick had procured for her. The tumult of swearing men, scolding women, and screaming children — the closeness, the filthiness, and the stench of the place, sickened the two charitable visitors ; and when Rodney had ascertained that the arm was not broken, and had given the woman some prudent directions about the treatment, he said to the people, “ My good friends, would it not tend more to the peace and comfort of all if you were to be quiet and orderly ; if you were to clean out this Pandemonium, and to employ yourselves usefully ? ”

A burst of rude laughter and oaths was the answer, And William said, “ Please don’t say any more, sir 5 2 they’re a bad set, and they’ll only behave worse to us if they think we have fine friends. I’m very sorry that poor aunt and Mary have to live among such wretches.”

“ We can let John have a corner of our cabin,” said Harold eagerly ; “ that is — I beg your pardon, Rodney — if you don’t object to the honest fellow sleeping there ; then those poor people can have his cabin to themselves.”

Mr. Rodney hesitated and sighed, but he was of easy temper and kind heart, and he consented that Harold’s servant should occupy a spare berth in the state cabin, as it was pompously termed ; and the Irish family, with the old schoolmaster, gratefully exchanged the pestilential den of the emigrants for John’s small but clean cabin, which contained berths for all. Here Mike’s arm was soon restored to strength ; and as he was forbidden to intrude among the sailors again, it was here that Dick Marlin came to visit the boy, to chatter with the women, and to entertain them with long yarns of sea adventures, or the recital of the monotonous transactions of the day.

“ Many’s the deck I’ve trod,” said he one evening ; “but such a heap of rotten timmers as this, I were never rated on afore. It’s my mind that we’se hardly weather the Cape. One leak after another breaks out, and a reg’lar sea would rive her to shivers. It s a downright sin, it is, to stow a lot of poor creatures on such a craft ; and I’ll answer for him he’s insured her for a bonny deal more nor she’s worth. But, lads, I’ve set my mind on a sound boat, and have fettled her up i bit ; and when it comes to a smash, why I’se launch

OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. IS

her, and make room for you folks. It’s a bad job you none on you can handle an oar, for I’se need a comrade, and I’d not like to say a word to any of our fellows, or I’d have all the lot on me.”

“ If you think it likely we should be driven to such an extremity,” said William, “I know that one of the gentlemen in the state cabin, who has been so kind to us, can row, as well as his servant. Mr. Crofton has a yacht and boats of his own, and is half a sailor. I should not like any danger to come to him. Couldn’t you take him in too ? ”

“ Ay, ay, boy,” answered Dick, “ we’ve room enough for two or three decent fellows ; but you ’ll let him know he’ll have to rough it, and not expect us to take off our hats and say i sir ’ at every word ; and I say, lad, tell him to keep all snug, and not be so free with his tongue. Sharpley would like nothing better nor to batten down t’hatcbway and keep him close in his cabin, if he’d an inkling we meant to be off. He’s just a born rogue, and a dirty spy, and a mean, unhanged rascal.” Dick added this in a low tone, looking suspiciously at the door; then turning to Mary, he continued — “ And Mary, honey, just keep out on his way, will ye; he’d be a bad bargain for any decent lass, forby his having a wife at Portsmouth and another at Liverpool, to my knowledge.” Mary bridled at the idea of the mate’s pretensions to her favor; a man that had behaved so ill to her brother ; though certainly of late he had taken every opportunity to make a rude courtship of the pretty neat Irish girl.

“ Sure, Mr. Marlin,” said she, “ you’ll not be thinking as we will be drowned in this same dirty ship, and we niver havin’ time nor place to say cur prayers, before

TU E BEAR-HUNTERS

Mr. Crofton, the Lord bless him for that same, wa* giving us his own man’s cabin, and a nate quiet room it is altogether. Worra ! but won’t it be a hard thing to be drowned dead in a forrin say, and Mike and Will niver lamin’ to swim, more’s the pity, and maybe Mr. Marlin, it’s a long way off it will be to dhry land. What’ll my poor mother be doing, och, hone ? ”

Mary wept for everybody but herself, till Mike, in the pride of his newly-acquired nautical knowledge, comforted her with the assurance that a boat was as good as a leaky ship any day, and Dick Marlin was a better seaman than Sharpley.

Under the pledge of secrecy, William communicated to his friends in the state cabin Marlin’s suspicions and arrangements. Crofton laughed at the idea of danger in such calm weather, and thought Dick’s invectives against the ship were chiefly occasioned by his aversion to Sharpley ; for no man, merely for the sake of making money, would risk the lives of so many of his fellow-creatures, and above all his own life, in an unsafe vessel. And in fact they rounded the dreaded Cape successfully, though certainly often driven back, and delayed so long that the provisions of the ship became low, and the poor emigrants who lived on their own stores were almost famished. The Maurice family, who had been more provident and more economical than the rest, had still meal and bacon, and the charitable widow often bestowed on the half-starved women and children a bowl of stirabout. Crofton and Rodney, who dined at the captain’s table, had certainly private stores of wine and other luxuries; but these were not of a nature to afford relief to the destitute.

But e sen after weathering Cape Horn, the voyaging

OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

was difficult ; the weather became uncertain ; they were alternately delayed by calms, and driven about by sudden gales, which the crazy vessel could ill stand, and which split the spars, and rent the worn canvas to rags Day after day passed, as they were tossed on the troubled sea, every day rendering their situation more perilous, and the difficulty of coming to harbor more hazardous, till at length the timid and slow Captain Scruton was roused to brave the ill-humor of his mate, and take his place.

“ We’re certainly making an uncommonly long voyage of this, Captain Scruton,” said Crofton, as they stood anxiously on deck. “What is your old ship about?”