CHAPTER TEN.
PERPLEXITIES--OUR HUNTERS PLAN THEIR ESCAPE--UNEXPECTED INTERRUPTION--THE TABLES TURNED--CRUSOE MOUNTS GUARD--THE ESCAPE.
Dick Varley sat before the fire ruminating. We do not mean to assertthat Dick had been previously eating grass. By no means. For severaldays past he had been mentally subsisting on the remarkable things thathe heard and saw in the Pawnee village, and wondering how he was to getaway without being scalped; he was now chewing the cud of thisintellectual fare. We therefore repeat emphatically--in case any readershould have presumed to contradict us--that Dick Varley sat before thefire _ruminating_!
Joe Blunt likewise sat by the fire along with him, ruminating too, andsmoking besides. Henri also sat there smoking, and looking a little theworse of his late supper.
"I don't like the look o' things," said Joe, blowing a whiff of smokeslowly from his lips, and watching it as it ascended into the still air."That blackguard Mahtawa is determined not to let us off till he gitsall our goods, an' if he gits them, he may as well take our scalps too,for we would come poor speed in the prairies without guns, horses, orgoods."
Dick looked at his friend with an expression of concern. "What's to bedone?" said he.
"Ve must escape," answered Henri; but his tone was not a hopeful one,for he knew the danger of their position better than Dick.
"Ay, we must escape; at least we must try," said Joe; "but I'll make onemore effort to smooth over San-it-sa-rish, an' git him to snub thatvillain Mahtawa."
Just as he spoke the villain in question entered the tent with a bold,haughty air, and sat down before the fire in sullen silence. For someminutes no one spoke, and Henri, who happened at the time to beexamining the locks of Dick's rifle, continued to inspect them with anappearance of careless indifference that he was far from feeling.
Now, this rifle of Dick's had become a source of unceasing wonder to theIndians,--wonder which was greatly increased by the fact that no onecould discharge it but himself. Dick had, during his short stay at thePawnee village, amused himself and the savages by exhibiting hismarvellous powers with the "silver rifle." Since it had been won by himat the memorable match in the Mustang Valley, it had scarce ever beenout of his hand, so that he had become decidedly the best shot in thesettlement, could "bark" squirrels (that is, hit the bark of the branchon which a squirrel happened to be standing, and so kill it by theconcussion alone), and could "drive the nail" every shot. The silverrifle, as we have said, became "great medicine" to the Red-men, whenthey saw it kill at a distance which the few wretched guns they hadobtained from the fur-traders could not even send a spent ball to. Thedouble shot, too, filled them with wonder and admiration; but that whichthey regarded with an almost supernatural feeling of curiosity was thepercussion cap, which in Dick's hands always exploded, but in theirs wasutterly useless!
This result was simply owing to the fact, that Dick after firing handedthe rifle to the Indians without renewing the cap. So that when theyloaded and attempted to fire, of course it merely snapped. When hewished again to fire, he adroitly exchanged the old cap for a new one.He was immensely tickled by the solemn looks of the Indians at this mostincomprehensible of all "medicines," and kept them for some days inignorance of the true cause, intending to reveal it before he left. Butcircumstances now arose which banished all trifling thoughts from hismind.
Mahtawa raised his head suddenly, and said, pointing to the silverrifle, "Mahtawa wishes to have the two-shotted medicine gun. He willgive his best horse in exchange."
"Mahtawa is liberal," answered Joe, "but the pale-faced youth cannotpart with it. He has far to travel, and must shoot buffaloes by theway."
"The pale-faced youth shall have a bow and arrows to shoot the buffalo,"rejoined the Indian.
"He cannot use the bow and arrow," answered Joe; "he has not beentrained like the Red-man."
Mahtawa was silent for a few seconds, and his dark brows frowned moreheavily than ever over his eyes.
"The Pale-faces are too bold," he exclaimed, working himself into apassion; "they are in the power of Mahtawa. If they will not give thegun he will take it."
He sprang suddenly to his feet as he spoke, and snatched the rifle fromHenri's hand.
Henri, being ignorant of the language, had not been able to understandthe foregoing conversation, although he saw well enough that it was notan agreeable one but no sooner did he find himself thus rudely andunexpectedly deprived of the rifle, than he jumped up, wrenched it in atwinkling from the Indian's grasp, and hurled him violently out of thetent.
In a moment Mahtawa drew his knife, uttered a savage yell, and sprang onthe reckless hunter, who, however, caught his wrist, and held it as ifin a vice. The yell brought a dozen warriors instantly to the spot, andbefore Dick had time to recover from his astonishment, Henri wassurrounded and pinioned despite his herculean struggles.
Before Dick could move, Joe Blunt grasped his arm, and whisperedquickly, "Don't rise! You can't help him! They daren't kill him tillSan-it-sa-rish agrees."
Though much surprised, Dick obeyed, but it required all his efforts,both of voice and hand, to control Crusoe, whose mind was much toohonest and straightforward to understand such subtle pieces ofdiplomacy, and who strove to rush to the rescue of his ill-used friend.
When the tumult had partly subsided, Joe Blunt rose and said--"Have thePawnee braves turned traitors that they draw the knife against those whohave smoked with them the pipe of peace and eaten their maize? ThePale-faces are three; the Pawnees are thousands. If evil has been done,let it be laid before the chief. Mahtawa wishes to have the medicinegun. Although we said No, we could not part with it, he tried to takeit by force. Are we to go back to the great chief of the Pale-faces,and say that the Pawnees are thieves? Are the Pale-faces henceforth totell their children when they steal, `That is bad; that is like thePawnee?' No! this must not be. The rifle shall be restored, and wewill forget this disagreement. Is it not so?"
There was an evident disposition on the part of many of the Indians,with whom Mahtawa was no favourite, to applaud this speech; but the wilychief sprang forward, and, with flashing eye, sought to turn the tables.
"The Pale-face speaks with soft words, but his heart is false. Is henot going to make peace with the enemies of the Pawnee? Is he not goingto take goods to them, and make them gifts and promises? The Pale-facesare spies. They come to see the weakness of the Pawnee camp, but theyhave found that it is strong. Shall we suffer the false-hearts toescape? Shall they live? No! we will hang their scalps in our wigwams,for they have _struck a chief_ and we will keep all their goods for oursquaws--wah!"
This allusion to keeping all the goods had more effect on the minds ofthe vacillating savages than the chiefs eloquence. But a new turn wasgiven to their thoughts by Joe Blunt remarking in a quiet, almostcontemptuous tone--
"Mahtawa is not the _great_ chief."
"True, true," they cried, and immediately hurried to the tent ofSan-it-sa-rish.
Once again this chief stood between the hunters and the savages, whowanted but a signal to fall on them. There was a long palaver, whichended in Henri being set at liberty, and the rifle being restored.
That evening, as the three friends sat beside their fire eating theirsupper of boiled maize and buffalo meat, they laughed and talked ascarelessly as ever; but the gaiety was assumed, for they were at thetime planning their escape from a tribe which, they foresaw, would notlong refrain from carrying out their wishes, and robbing, perhapsmurdering them.
"Ye see," said Joe with a perplexed air, while he drew a piece of livecharcoal from the fire with his fingers and lighted his pipe,--"ye see,there's more difficulties in the way o' gettin' off than ye think--"
"Oh! nivare mind de difficulties," interrupted Henri, whose wrath at thetreatment he had received had not yet cooled down. "Ve must jump on debest horses ve can git hold, shake our fist at de red reptiles, and goaway fast as ve can. De best hoss _must_ vin de race."
Joe sho
ok his head. "A hundred arrows would be in our backs before wegot twenty yards from the camp. Besides, we can't tell which are thebest horses. Our own are the best in my 'pinion, but how are we to git'em?"
"I know who has charge o' them," said Dick; "I saw them grazing near thetent o' that poor squaw whose baby was saved by Crusoe. Either herhusband looks after them or some neighbours."
"That's well," said Joe. "That's one o' my difficulties gone."
"What are the others?"
"Well, d'ye see, they're troublesome. We can't git the horses out o'camp without bein' seen, for the red rascals would see what we were atin a jiffy. Then, if we do git 'em out, we can't go off without ourbales, an' we needn't think to take 'em from under the nose o' the chiefand his squaws without bein' axed questions. To go off without themwould niver do at all."
"Joe," said Dick, earnestly, "I've hit on a plan."
"Have ye, Dick? what is't?"
"Come and I'll let ye see," answered Dick, rising hastily and quittingthe tent, followed by his comrades and his faithful dog.
It may be as well to remark here, that no restraint whatever had yetbeen put on the movements of our hunters as long as they kept to theirlegs, for it was well-known that any attempt by men on foot to escapefrom mounted Indians on the plains would be hopeless. Moreover, thesavages thought that as long as there was a prospect of their beingallowed to depart peaceably with their goods, they would not be so madas to fly from the camp, and, by so doing, risk their lives and declarewar with their entertainers. They had, therefore, been permitted towander unchecked, as yet, far beyond the outskirts of the camp, andamuse themselves in paddling about the lake in the small Indian canoesand shooting wild-fowl.
Dick now led the way through the labyrinths of tents in the direction ofthe lake, and they talked and laughed loudly, and whistled to Crusoe asthey went, in order to prevent their purpose being suspected. For thepurpose of further disarming suspicion they went without their rifles.Dick explained his plan by the way, and it was at once warmly approvedof by his comrades.
On reaching the lake they launched a small canoe, into which Crusoe wasordered to jump; then, embarking, they paddled swiftly to the oppositeshore, singing a canoe song as they dipped their paddles in the moonlitwaters of the lake. Arrived at the other side, they hauled the canoe upand hurried through the thin belt of wood and willows that intervenedbetween the lake and the prairie. Here they paused.
"Is that the bluff, Joe?"
"No, Dick, that's too near. T'other one'll be best. Far away to theright. It's a little one, and there's others near it. The sharp eyeso' the Red-skins won't be so likely to be prowlin' there."
"Come on, then; but we'll have to take down by the lake first."
In a few minutes the hunters were threading their way through theoutskirts of the wood at a rapid trot, in the opposite direction fromthe bluff, or wooded knoll, which they wished to reach. This they didlest prying eyes should have followed them. In a quarter of an hourthey turned at right angles to their track, and struck straight out intothe prairie, and after a long run they edged round and came in upon thebluff from behind. It was merely a collection of stunted butthick-growing willows.
Forcing their way into the centre of this they began to examine it.
"It'll do," said Joe.
"De very ting," remarked Henri.
"Come here, Crusoe."
Crusoe bounded to his master's side, and looked up in his face.
"Look at this place, pup; smell it well."
Crusoe instantly set off all round among the willows, in and out,snuffing everywhere, and whining with excitement.
"Come here, good pup; that will do. Now, lads, we'll go back." Sosaying, Dick and his friends left the bluff and retraced their steps tothe camp. Before they had gone far, however, Joe halted, and said--
"D'ye know, Dick, I doubt if the pup's so cliver as ye think. What ifhe don't quite onderstand ye?"
Dick replied by taking off his cap and throwing it down, at the sametime exclaiming, "Take it yonder, pup," and pointing with his handtowards the bluff. The dog seized the cap, and went off with it at fullspeed towards the willows, where it left it, and came galloping back forthe expected reward--not now, as in days of old, a bit of meat, but agentle stroke of its head and a hearty clap on its shaggy side.
"Good pup, go now an' _fetch it_."
Away he went with a bound, and, in a few seconds, came back anddeposited the cap at his master's feet.
"Will that do?" asked Dick, triumphantly.
"Ay, lad, it will. The pup's worth its weight in goold."
"Oui, I have said, and I say it agen, de dog is _human_, so him is. Ifnot--fat am he?"
Without pausing to reply to this perplexing question, Dick steppedforward again, and in half an hour or so they were back in the camp.
"Now for _your_ part of the work, Joe; yonder's the squaw that owns thehalf-drowned baby. Everything depends on her."
Dick pointed to the Indian woman as he spoke. She was sitting besideher tent, and playing at her knee was the identical youngster that hadbeen saved by Crusoe.
"I'll manage it," said Joe, and walked towards her, while Dick and Henrireturned to the chiefs tent.
"Does the Pawnee woman thank the Great Spirit that her child is saved?"began Joe as he came up.
"She does," answered the woman, looking up at the hunter. "And herheart is warm to the Pale-faces."
After a short silence Joe continued--
"The Pawnee chiefs do not love the Pale-faces. Some of them hate them."
"The Dark Flower knows it," answered the woman; "she is sorry. Shewould help the Pale-faces if she could."
This was uttered in a low tone, and with a meaning glance of the eye.
Joe hesitated again--could he trust her? Yes; the feelings that filledher breast and prompted her words were not those of the Indian justnow--they were those of a _mother_, whose gratitude was too full forutterance.
"Will the Dark Flower," said Joe, catching the name she had givenherself, "help the Pale-face if he opens his heart to her? Will sherisk the anger of her nation?"
"She will," replied the woman; "she will do what she can."
Joe and his dark friend now dropped their high-sounding style of speech,and spoke for some minutes rapidly in an undertone. It was finallyarranged that on a given day, at a certain hour, the woman should takethe four horses down the shores of the lake to its lower end, as if shewere going for firewood, there cross the creek at the ford, and drivethem to the willow-bluff, and guard them till the hunters should arrive.
Having settled this, Joe returned to the tent and informed his comradesof his success.
During the next three days Joe kept the Indians in good-humour by givingthem one or two trinkets, and speaking in glowing terms of the riches ofthe white men, and the readiness with which they would part with them tothe savages if they would only make peace.
Meanwhile, during the dark hours of each night, Dick managed to abstractsmall quantities of goods from their pack, in room of which he stuffedin pieces of leather to keep up the size and appearance. The goods thustaken out he concealed about his person, and went off with a carelessswagger to the outskirts of the village, with Crusoe at his heels.Arrived there, he tied the goods in a small piece of deerskin, and gavethe bundle to the dog, with the injunction, "Take it yonder, pup."
Crusoe took it up at once, darted off at full speed with the bundle inhis mouth, down the shore of the lake towards the ford of the river, andwas soon lost to view. In this way, little by little, the goods wereconveyed by the faithful dog to the willow-bluff and left there, whilethe stuffed pack still remained in safekeeping in the chief's tent.
Joe did not at first like the idea of thus sneaking off from the camp;and more than once made strong efforts to induce San-it-sa-rish to lethim go, but even that chief's countenance was not so favourable as ithad been. It was clear that he could not make up his mind to let slipso good a chance o
f obtaining guns, powder, and shot, horses and goods,without any trouble; so Joe made up his mind to give them the slip atonce.
A dark night was chosen for the attempt, and the Indian woman went offwith the horses to the place where firewood for the camp was usuallycut. Unfortunately the suspicion of that wily savage Mahtawa had beenawakened, and he stuck close to the hunters all day--not knowing whatwas going on, but feeling convinced that something was brewing which heresolved to watch, without mentioning his suspicions to any one.
"I think that villain's away at last," whispered Joe to his comrades;"it's time to go, lads, the moon won't be up for an hour. Come along."
"Have ye got the big powder-horn, Joe?"
"Ay, ay, all right."
"Stop! stop! my knife, my couteau. Ah! here it be. Now, boy."
The three set off as usual, strolling carelessly to the outskirts of thecamp; then they quickened their pace, and, gaining the lake, pushed offin a small canoe.
At the same moment Mahtawa stepped from the bushes, leaped into anothercanoe and followed them.
"Hah! he must die," muttered Henri.
"Not at all," said Joe, "we'll manage him without that."
The chief landed and strode boldly up to them, for he knew well thatwhatever their purpose might be, they would not venture to use theirrifles within sound of the camp at that hour of the night; as for theirknives, he could trust to his own active limbs and the woods to escapeand give the alarm if need be.
"The Pale-faces hunt very late," he said with a malicious grin. "Dothey love the dark better than the sunshine?"
"Not so," replied Joe, coolly, "but we love to walk by the light of themoon. It will be up in less than an hour, and we mean to take a longramble to-night."
"The Pawnee chief loves to walk by the moon too, he will go with thePale-faces."
"Good," ejaculated Joe. "Come along, then."
The party immediately set forward, although the savage was a littletaken by surprise at the indifferent way in which Joe received hisproposal to accompany them. He walked on to the edge of the prairie,however, and then stopped.
"The Pale-faces must go alone," said he; "Mahtawa will return to histent."
Joe replied to this intimation by seizing him suddenly by the throat andchoking back the yell that would otherwise have brought the Pawneewarriors rushing to the scene of action in hundreds. Mahtawa's hand wason the handle of his scalping-knife in a moment, but before he coulddraw it, his arms were glued to his sides by the bear-like embrace ofHenri, while Dick tied a handkerchief quickly yet firmly round hismouth. The whole thing was accomplished in two minutes. After takinghis knife and tomahawk away, they loosened their gripe and escorted himswiftly over the prairie.
Mahtawa was perfectly submissive after the first convulsive struggle wasover. He knew that the men who walked on each side of him grasping hisarms were more than his match singly, so he wisely made no resistance.
Hurrying him to a clump of small trees on the plain which was so fardistant from the village that a yell could not be heard, they removedthe bandage from Mahtawa's mouth.
"_Must_ he be kill?" inquired Henri, in a tone of commiseration.
"Not at all" answered Joe, "we'll tie him to a tree and leave himthere."
"Then he vill be starve to deat'. Oh! dat is more horrobell!"
"He must take his chance o' that. I've no doubt his friends'll find himin a day or two, an' he's game to last for a week or more. But you'llhave to run to the willow-bluff, Dick, and bring a bit of line to tiehim. We can't spare it well; but there's no help."
"But there _is_ help," retorted Dick. "Just order the villain to climbinto that tree."
"Why so, lad?"
"Don't ask questions, but do what I bid ye."
The hunter smiled for a moment as he turned to the Indian, and orderedhim to climb up a small tree near to which he stood. Mahtawa lookedsurprised, but there was no alternative. Joe's authoritative tonebrooked no delay, so he sprang into the tree like a monkey.
"Crusoe," said Dick, "_watch him_!"
The dog sat quietly down at the foot of the tree, and fixed his eyes onthe savage with a glare that spoke unutterable things. At the same timehe displayed his full compliment of teeth, and uttered a sound likedistant thunder.
Joe almost laughed, and Henri did laugh outright.
"Come along, he's safe now," cried Dick, hurrying away in the directionof the willow-bluff, which they soon reached, and found that thefaithful squaw had tied their steeds to the bushes, and, moreover, hadbundled up their goods into a pack, and strapped it on the back of thepack-horse; but she had not remained with them.
"Bless yer dark face," ejaculated Joe as he sprang into the saddle androde out of the clump of bushes. He was followed immediately by theothers, and in three minutes they were flying over the plain at fullspeed.
On gaining the last far-off ridge, that afforded a distant view of thewoods skirting the Pawnee camp, they drew up, and Dick, putting hisfingers to his mouth, drew a long, shrill whistle.
It reached the willow-bluff like a faint echo. At the same moment themoon arose and more clearly revealed Crusoe's catalyptic glare at theIndian chief, who, being utterly unarmed, was at the dog's mercy. Theinstant the whistle fell on his ear, however, he dropped his eyes,covered his teeth, and, leaping through the bushes, flew over the plainslike an arrow. At the same instant Mahtawa, descending from his tree,ran as fast as he could towards the village, uttering the terriblewar-whoop when near enough to be heard. No sound sends such a thrillthrough an Indian camp. Every warrior flew to arms, and vaulted on hissteed. So quickly was the alarm given that in less than ten minutes athousand hoofs were thundering on the plain, and faintly reached theears of the fugitives.
Joe smiled. "It'll puzzle them to come up wi' nags like ours. They'rein prime condition too, lots o' wind in 'em. If we only keep out o'badger holes we may laugh at the red varmints."
Joe's opinion of Indian horses was correct. In a very few minutes thesound of hoofs died away, but the fugitives did not draw bridle duringthe remainder of that night, for they knew not how long the pursuitmight be continued. By pond, and brook, and bluff they passed, down inthe grassy bottoms and over the prairie waves,--nor checked theirheadlong course till the sun blazed over the level sweep of the easternplain as if it arose out of the mighty ocean.
Then they sprang from the saddle and hastily set about the preparationof their morning meal.