CHAPTER NINE.
A BRIGHT APPARITION--FOLLOWED BY RUMOURS OF WAR.
While we were thus feasting and chatting on the green sward of theregion which seemed destined to be our future home, an object suddenlyappeared among the bushes, near the edge of the circle of light cast byour camp-fire.
This object was by no means a frightful one, yet it caused a sensationin the camp which could hardly have been intensified if we had suddenlydiscovered a buffalo with the nose of an elephant and the tail of arattlesnake. For one moment we were all struck dumb; then we all sprangto our feet, but we did not seize our firearms--oh no!--for there, halfconcealed by the bushes, and gazing at us in timid wonder, stood apretty young girl, with a skin much fairer than usually falls to the lotof Indian women, and with light brown hair as well as bright blue eyes.In all other respects--in costume, and humble bearing--she resembled thewomen of the soil.
I would not willingly inflict on the reader too much of my privatefeelings and opinions, but perhaps I may be excused for saying that Ifell over head and ears in love with this creature at once! I make noapology for being thus candid. On the contrary, I am prepared rather toplume myself on the quick perception which enabled me not only toobserve the beauty of the girl's countenance, but, what is of far moreimportance, the inherent goodness which welled from her loving eyes.Yes, reader, call me an ass if you will, but I unblushingly repeat thatI fell--tumbled--plunged headlong in love with her. So did every otherman in the camp! There is this to be said in excuse for us, that we hadnot seen any members of the fair sex for many months, and that the sightof this brilliant specimen naturally aroused many pleasant recollectionsof cousins, sisters, nieces, aunts, mothers, grandmothers--well, perhapsI am going too far; though, after all, the tender, loving-kindness inthis girl's eyes might well have suggested grandmothers!
Before any of us could recover the use of our limbs, Big Otter hadglided rapidly towards the girl. Grasping her by the hand, he led hertowards Lumley, and introduced her as his sister's daughter, Waboose.
The red-man was evidently proud as well as fond of his fair niece, andequally clear did it become in a short time that the girl was as fondand proud of him.
"Your relative is very fair," said Lumley. "She might almost have beenthe daughter of a white man."
"She _is_ the daughter of a white man."
"Indeed!"
"Yes; her father was a white hunter who left his people and came todwell with us and married my sister. He was much loved and respected byus. He lived and hunted and went on the war-path with us for manyyears--then he was killed."
"In war?" I asked, beginning to feel sympathetic regard for the fatherof one who had stirred my heart to--but, I forget. It is not myintention to bore the reader with my personal feelings.
"No," answered the Indian. "He perished in attempting to save his wifefrom a dangerous rapid. He brought her to the bank close to the head ofa great waterfall, and many hands were stretched out to grasp her. Shewas saved, but the strength of the brave pale-face was gone, and we knewit not. Before we could lay hold of his hand the current swept him awayand carried him over the falls."
"How sad!" said Lumley. "What was the name of this white man?"
"He told us that his name was Weeum--but," said the Indian, turningabruptly to Waboose, whose countenance betrayed feelings which wereobviously aroused by other matters than this reference to her lostfather, "my child has news of some sort. Let her speak."
Thus permitted, Waboose opened her lips for the first time--disclosing adouble row of bright little teeth in the act--and said that she had beensent by her mother in search of Maqua and his son, as she had reason tobelieve that the camp was in danger of being attacked by Dogrib Indians.
On hearing this, Maqua and Mozwa rose, picked up their weapons, andwithout a word of explanation entered the bushes swiftly anddisappeared.
Big Otter looked after them for a moment or two in grave silence.
"You had better follow them," suggested Lumley. "If you should requirehelp, send a swift messenger back and we will come to you."
The Indian received this with a quiet inclination of the head, but madeno reply. Then, taking his niece by the hand, he led her into thebushes where his relatives had entered and, like them, disappeared.
"It seems like a dream," said I to Lumley, as we all sat down again toour steaks and marrow-bones.
"What seems like a dream, Max--the grub?"
"No, the girl."
"Truly, yes. And a very pleasant dream too. Almost as good as thisbone."
"Oh! you unsentimental, unsympathetic monster. Does not the sight of apretty young creature like that remind you of home, and all the sweetrefining influences shed around it by woman?"
"I cannot say that it does--hand me another; no, not a little thing likethat, a big one full of marrow, so--. You see, old boy, a band of beadsround the head, a sky-blue cloth bodice, a skirt of green flannelreaching only to the knees, cloth leggings ornamented with porcupinequills and moccasined feet, do not naturally suggest my respected motheror sisters."
For the first time in our acquaintance I felt somewhat disgusted with myfriend's levity, and made no rejoinder. He looked at me quickly, withslightly raised eyebrows, and gave a little laugh.
With a strong effort I crushed down my feelings, and said in a tone offorced gaiety:--
"Well, well, things strike people in strangely different lights. Ithought not of the girl's costume but her countenance."
"Come, then, Max," returned my friend, with that considerate good naturewhich attracted men so powerfully to him, "I admit that the girl's facemight well suggest the thought of dearer faces in distant lands--andespecially her eyes, so different from the piercing black orbs of Indiansquaws. Did you note the--the softness, I was going to saytruthfulness, of her strangely blue eyes?"
Did I note them! The question seemed to me so ridiculous that Ilaughed, by way of reply.
I observed that Lumley cast on me for the second time a sharp inquiringglance, then he said:--
"But I say, Max, we must have our arms looked to, and be ready for asudden call. You know that I don't love fighting. Especially at thecommencement of our sojourn would I avoid mixing myself up with Indians'quarrels; but if our guide comes back saying that their camp is indanger, we must help him. It would never do, you know, to leave womenand children to the mercy of ruthless savages."
"Leave woman and children!" I exclaimed vehemently, thinking of onlyone woman at the moment, "I should _think_ not!"
The tone of indignation in which I said this caused my friend to laughoutright.
"Well, well," he said, in a low tone, "it's a curious complaint, and noteasily cured."
What he meant was at the time a mystery to me. I have since come tounderstand.
"I suppose you'll all agree with me, lads," said Lumley to the men whosat eating their supper on the opposite side of the fire, and raisinghis voice, for we had hitherto been conversing in a low tone, "if BigOtter's friends need help we'll be ready to give it?"
Of course a hearty assent was given, and several of the men, havingfinished supper, rose to examine their weapons.
The guns used by travellers in the Great Nor'-west in those days werelong single-barrels with flint-locks, the powder in which was very aptto get wet through priming-pans and touch-holes, so that frequentinspection was absolutely necessary.
As our party consisted of twelve men, including ourselves, and each wasarmed--Lumley and myself with double-barrelled fowling-pieces--we wereable, if need be, to fire a volley of fourteen shots. Besides this, mychief and I carried revolvers, which weapons had only just beenintroduced into that part of the country. We were therefore prepared tolend effective aid to any whom we thought it right to succour.
Scarcely had our arrangements been made when the lithe agile form ofMozwa glided into the camp and stood before Lumley. The lad tried hardto look calm, grave, and collected, as became a young Indian brave, bu
tthe perspiration on his brow and his labouring chest told that he hadbeen running far at the utmost speed, while a wild glitter in his darkeye betrayed strong emotion. Pointing in the direction whence he hadcome, he uttered the name--"Big Otter."
"All right. I understand you," said Lumley, springing up. "Now, boys,sharp's the word; we will go to the help of our guide. But two of youmust stay behind to guard our camp. Do you, Donald Bane and JamesDougall, remain and keep a bright look-out."
"Is it to stop here, we are?" asked Bane, with a mutinous look.
"Yes," exclaimed our leader so sharply that the mutinous look faded.
"An' are we to be left behind," growled Dougall, "when there's fightin'to be done?"
"I have no time for words, Dougall," said Lumley in a low voice, "but ifyou don't at once set about preparation to defend the camp, I'll giveyou some fighting to do that you won't relish."
Dougall had no difficulty in understanding his leader's meaning. He andhis friend at once set about the required preparations.
"Now then, Mozwa," said Lumley.
The young Indian, who had remained erect and apparently unobservant,with his arms crossed on his still heaving chest, turned at once andwent off at a swift trot, followed by all our party with the exceptionof the ill-pleased Highlanders, who, in their eagerness for the fray,did not perceive that theirs might be a post of the greatest danger, asit certainly was one of trust.
"Tonald," said Dougall, sitting down and lighting his pipe after we weregone, "I wass vera near givin' Muster Lumley a cood threshin'."
"Hum! it's well ye didn't try, Shames."
"An' what for no?"
"Because he's more nor a match for ye."
"I don't know that Tonald. I'm as stout a man as he is, whatever."
"Oo ay, so ye are, Shames; but ye're no a match for him. He's been toschool among thae Englishers, an' can use his fists, let me tell you."
At this Dougall held up a clenched hand, hard and knuckly from honesttoil, that was nearly as big as a small ham. Regarding it with muchcomplacency he said, slowly:--
"An' don't you think, Tonald, that I could use my fist too?"
"Maybe you could, in a kind o' way," returned the other, also fillinghis pipe and sitting down; "but I'll tell ye what Muster Lumley would doto you, Shames, if ye offered to fight him. He would dance round youlike a cooper round a cask; then, first of all, he would flatten yournose--which is flat enough already, whatever--wi' wan hand, an' he'ddrive in your stummick wi' the other. Then he would give you onebetween the two eyes an' raise a bridge there to make up for the wanhe'd destroyed on your nose, an' before you had time to sneeze he wouldput a rainbow under your left eye. Or ever you had time to wink hewould put another under your right eye, and if that didn't settle you hewould give you a finishin' dig in the ribs, Shames, trip up your heels,an' lay you on the ground, where I make no doubt you would lie an'meditate whether it wass worth while to rise up for more."
"All that would be verra unpleasant, Tonald," said Dougall, with ahumorous glance from the corners of his small grey eyes, "but I dufferwith ye in opeenion."
"You would duffer in opeenion with the Apostle Paul if he wass here,"said the other, rising, as his pipe was by that time well alight, andresuming his work, "but we'll better obey Muster Lumley's orders thanargufy about him."
"I'll agree with you there, Tonald, just to convince you that I don'talways duffer," said the argumentative Highlander, rising to assist hisnot less argumentative friend.
The two men pursued their labour in silence, and in the course of anhour or so had piled all the baggage in a circle in the middle of theopen lawn, so as to form a little fortress, into which they might springand keep almost any number of savages at bay for some time; becausesavages, unlike most white men, have no belief in that "glory" whichconsists in rushing on certain death, in order to form a bridge of deadbodies over which comrades may march to victory. Each savage is, forthe most part, keenly alive to the importance of guarding his own life,so that a band of savages seldom makes a rush where certain death awaitsthe leaders. Hence our two Highlanders felt quite confident of beingable to hold their little fort with two guns each and a large supply ofammunition.
Meanwhile Mozwa continued his rapid trot through wood and brake; overswamp, and plain, and grassy mound. Being all of us by that time strongin wind and limb, we followed him without difficulty.
"Lads, be careful," said Lumley, as we went along, "that no shot isfired, whatever happens, until I give the word. You see, Max," hecontinued in a lower tone, "nothing but the sternest necessity willinduce me to shed human blood. I am here to open up trade with thenatives, not to fight them, or mix myself up in their quarrels. At thesame time it would be bad policy to stand aloof while the tribes we havecome to benefit, and of which our guide is a member, are assailed byenemies. We must try what we can do to make peace, and risk somethingin the attempt."
Arrived at the Indian camp, we found a band of braves just on the pointof leaving it, although by that time it was quite dark. The tribe--orrather that portion of it which was encamped in leathern wigwams, on oneof the grassy mounds with which the country abounded--consisted of somehundred families, and the women and children were moving about in greatexcitement, while the warriors were preparing to leave. I was struck,however, by the calm and dignified bearing of one white-hairedpatriarch, who stood in the opening of his wigwam, talking to a numberof the elder men and women who crowded round him. He was the old chiefof the tribe; and, being no longer able to go on the war-path, remainedwith the aged men and the youths, whose duty it was to guard the camp.
"My children," he said, as we came up, "fear not. The Great Spirit iswith us, for our cause is just. He has sent Big Otter back to us ingood time, and, see, has He not also sent white men to help us?"
The war-party was detained on our arrival until we should hold a palaverwith the old chief and principal braves. We soon ascertained that thecause of disagreement between the two tribes, and of the declaration ofwar, was a mere trifle, strongly resembling in that respect the causesof most wars among civilised nations! A brave of the one tribe hadinsultingly remarked that a warrior of the other tribe had claimed thecarcase of a moose-deer which had been mortally wounded, and tracked,and slain by him, the insulter. The insulted one vowed that he shot thedeer dead--he would scorn to wound a deer at all--and had left it inhiding until he could obtain assistance to fetch the meat. Younghotheads on both sides fomented the quarrel until older heads wereforced to take the matter up; they became sympathetically inflamed, and,finally, war to the knife was declared. No blood had yet been shed, butit was understood by Big Otter's friends--who were really the injuredparty--that their foes had sent away their women and children,preparatory to a descent on them.
"Now, Salamander," said Lumley, who, although he had considerablyincreased his knowledge of the Indian language by conversing with theguide during our voyage, preferred to speak through an interpreter whenhe had anything important to say, "tell the old chief that thiswar-party must not go forth. Tell him that the great white chief whoguides the affairs of the traders, has sent me to trade furs in thisregion, and that I will not permit fighting."
This was such a bold--almost presumptuous, way of putting the matterthat the old red chief looked at the young white chief in surprise; butas there was neither bluster nor presumption in the calm countenance ofLumley--only firmness coupled with extreme good humour--he felt somewhatdisconcerted.
"How will my white brother prevent war?" asked the old chief, whose namewas Muskrat.
"By packing up my goods, and going elsewhere," replied Lumley directly,without an instant's hesitation, in the Indian tongue.
At this, there was an elongation of the faces of the men who heard it,and something like a soft groan from the squaws who listened in thebackground.
"That would be a sad calamity," said old Muskrat, "and I have no wish tofight; but how will the young white chief prevent our foes fromattacking u
s?"
"Tell him, Salamander, that I will do so by going to see them."
"My young braves will be happy to go out under the guidance of so stronga warrior," returned Muskrat, quite delighted with the proposal.
"Nay, old chief, you mistake me, I will take no braves with me."
"No matter," returned Muskrat; "doubtless the white men and their gunswill be more than a match for our red foes."
"Still you misunderstand," said Lumley. "I am no warrior, but a man ofpeace. I shall go without guns or knives--and alone, except that I willask young Mozwa to guide me."
"Alone! unarmed!" murmured the old man, in astonishment almost too greatfor expression. "What can one do against a hundred with weapons?"
"You shall see," said Lumley, with a light laugh as he turned to me.
"Now, Max, don't speak or remonstrate, like a good fellow; we have notime to discuss, only to act. I find that Muskrat's foes speak the samedialect as himself, so that an interpreter is needless. I carry tworevolvers in the breast of my coat. You have a clasp-knife in yourpocket; make me a present of it, will you? Thanks. Now, have our menin readiness for instant action. Don't let them go to rest, but letthem eat as much, and as long, as they choose. Keep the old chief andhis men amused with long yarns, about what we mean to do in theseregions, and don't let any one follow me. Keep your mind easy. If Idon't return in three hours, you may set off to look for me, though itwill I fear be of no use by that time; and, stay, if you should hear apistol-shot, run out with all our men towards it. Now, Mozwa, lead onto the enemy's camp."
The young Indian, who was evidently proud of the trust reposed in him,and cared nothing for danger, stalked into the forest with the look andbearing of a dauntless warrior.