Read The Red River Half-Breed: A Tale of the Wild North-West Page 20


  CHAPTER XX.

  THE UNDERMINER.

  As it came on nine o'clock, Lieutenant Joe and Dearborn took leave oftheir superior and of the table.

  The former of the pair seemed to be overpowered by sleepiness, for hehad been blinking like an owl during the conversation, and, were henot so polite a man, would have fallen forward and slumbered among thedishes, his head on his arms.

  The guide had altered his purpose; on second thoughts, he preferred tomake the circuit outside the camping ground for the better security ofall. So he bade the captain good night after announcing his changedresolve, and promising to be back a bit before sun-peep.

  Joe shook himself up, still polite, and volunteered to take the guideround and show him where the lookouts lay, in order he might not getshot by them at the dawn. During this short jaunt the two spoke verylittle, and what they said were commonplaces. They knew quite wellthat they were under the eyes of the leader, who came out to the tentmouth ostensibly to finish his cigar.

  After bidding one another good night bluffly, hunter and gold seekerparted. The Englishman leaped over the barricade and glided into theshadows. As Joe retraced his steps, he saw the captain disappearing inthe tent, where the loose flap fell and hid him.

  The second officer had a green bough shelter run up for him against arock. Thither he proceeded and insinuated himself within; but, despitethe cold, he left the wagon tailboard, which might flatteringly bestyled the door, on one side. He would not have a fire, and showed nolight. He pulled out a horsehair covered trunk, sat on it, folded hisarms, and appeared to await being frozen stiff.

  Not only, though, had all semblance of drowsiness quitted his features,but, judging by his eyes, he was as wide awake as ever; these weredirected on the captain's tent. Its opening and that of his shedfaced, so that he could spy into it, protected himself by the completedarkness in which he was lodged.

  Kidd kept a lamp burning for quite half an hour. Joe tried his bestto see what he was doing, but that was not possible. Nevertheless, hepersevered in studying the tent which contained so many mysteries forhim. At length, the attraction of curiosity was so strong as to becomeirresistible. He left his seat, and, stealing forth, scanned the scenewithout.

  Deep stillness reigned over the darkened camp, for a fine, cold rainhad lowered the fires. Rolled up in their blankets, the gold grabbershad packed into shelter and slumbered soundly. The watchers themselves,with only their noses and eyes exposed, were shrunk up into the bestcovering the bushes and palisades afforded against the wet.

  But the light still glittered in the captain's tent.

  The Carcajieu would hold back no more.

  And yet he knew that when the chief retired for the night, he blockedhimself in so that it was impossible to get at him without his leave orknowledge. As for peering and prying, no one had tried what would leadto discovery. Besides, what could the curious make of it; the tent wasdouble; there was full three inches space between the outer jacket andinner canvas, a precaution taken along with others for serious reasons,to the end that, when the captain did shut himself up, he could bedelivered of daily constraint and be himself unfettered.

  Such were the more or less plausible suppositions to which Corky Joehad arrived since he formed part of the expedition. He had often soughtwithout success to discover this puzzling mystery. But his repeatedfailures, far from calming his curiosity, by proving the uselessnessof his abortive attempts, so pricked him on, that he determined at anycost to tear the heart out of the enigma. The present occasion struckhim as so favourable, that he made up his mind to try again, whateverthe consequences, if he ran into a trap.

  Sharp as was Kidd, Joe reckoned himself to be on a par with him. Atleast, he rarely acted without forethought, sound, though not long,perhaps. He was patient, preparing in advance the means for carryingout his plans. He had never yet been taken in an unguarded moment.Whenever he had failed, he set down the loss to chance, fate, orwhatever name it goes by.

  Since too long a time had the faithless lieutenant been planning out tolearn what went on in the captain's snuggery when he was closeted infor him not to have a better result, because he profited by previousmischances.

  Matters stood as follows this time--

  Every time the train started the lieutenant took the advance with adozen picked men. Not only did they scout and roughly clear a road, butthey pushed on to the night camping ground. There they chopped bushesand trees, built fires, or even lit them to warm the ground and driveaway vermin, as all small game is called, and put up the tents for DonaRosario, the women, and the leader. These they carried on led mules,the cloth wrapped round their tools and eatables, so that part of theload was exhausted on the way and at the end of the journey. When themain body came up, it moved into position already traced, and completedthe entrenchment with the wagons and loads. A few shanties were knockedtogether, and that was all. If the pickets had much of a start, theydid so much work whilst waiting, that the rest often did not have todelay half an hour before meals.

  The first act of the chief was to see if his tent was pitched to suit.If not, he would have the site shifted, and overlook this being donein person; this was of rare occurrence, but it had happened. Though,in the beginning, his men had been curious about the tent, two months'fatigue had blunted the feeling. Besides, what interest had tired men,wet and muddy with fording, in puzzling out matters of no value tothem?--To say nothing of Kidd, notably "sudden with his pistol," beingalways on the lookout. Besides, as he had often reflected, he was sureenough of the relatively devoted nature of the principals of his band.If he had to do with mere inquisitiveness his reasoning would have beencorrect. Even Paul Pry will get fagged out in the end, but it was notsuch a paltry nature that was pitted against him.

  The Carcajieu had potent grounds for persevering in unearthing hissecret. Therefore, he would never stop till that secret lay under hisfeet, or he was stretched dead upon it.

  The captain was ignorant of this, and could not even dream of it.He never once thought of doubting Joe, and conjecturing that he wasundermining him like a mole. Surrounding circumstances also forced himto bestow on his second as much trust as lay in so wary a character.

  On pushing ahead to the camping place, Joe had set his pioneers to usetheir axes upon the brushwood, whilst he examined the land.

  The position was intelligently selected by Dearborn, healthy andeasy to defend. It was an opening "park," in the midst of a thickwood climbing the abrupt foothills of the Rockies. On the right, anuncracked block of stone rose up sheer to an incalculable height, andforefended any attack from that quarter.

  Like the broken arch of a natural stone bridge, a huge rock, hollowedout by water in ancient days, covered about a third of the clearing,to the height of a score yards. On the left the mountain sides, wellwooded, gently sloped down.

  The Carcajieu scanned the rocks alluded to. Hurled from the mountaincrest in some horrible cataclysm, they had crashed togetherchaotically, and cheating moss and shrubs seemed to have knit them intoa solid mass. In reality, though nothing but a wonder of balancing keptthem in their arrangement. There was another discovery made by thelieutenant, that almost forced him to whoop for joy, and did force thewhistling of a lively dance tune in an undertone.

  When the bush work was formed, he went on usually to have the fireslaid and the tents reared.

  The captain was set up under the natural arch, in a most advantageousspot. Behind and on both sides the canvas was superfluous, for it wasin the hollow of the rock.

  Kidd was so delighted with this solid nook for his night's lodging,that he warmly thanked and congratulated his lieutenant, a surprisingthing to "the boys," as they knew him to be chary of compliments. Joebowed himself out of the flowers of speech in a modest way, and wentand hid his blushes in his greenwood shanty.

  Scarcely had Joe, about to essay his dangerous undertaking, left hisambush before he spied a shadow cross his path.

  "Hist?" he demanded, putting his knife in readines
s.

  "Only me, the Drudge, master, coming to report," was the whisperedreply of the youth Leon.

  "Oh, that's all right. What have you been about, boy?"

  "Carrying out your orders, lieutenant," continued he, approaching."After lending the Foxface a hand to bandage up Lottery Paul, Ipretended to forget the camphorated spirits, as you instructed me."

  "Good boy! What next?"

  "I laid by to see what they would do. Just as you foresaw, lieutenant,Foxface took up the keg, which was still pretty nigh full, andlaughingly showed it to the Frenchman. The next thing was, they swilledat it, turn and turn about, making fun of me."

  "How has it ended?"

  "The keg is ended, lieutenant, that's a sure fact, and both thescoundrels are dead drunk, not even snoring."

  "Good; they are on the shelf. How about the others?"

  "All are sleeping. There is nobody afoot but you and me, and thecaptain, I reckon."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Quite; the sentinels are sawing gourds in the Land of Nod too."

  "Very nice. You know what you are to do?"

  "I do, lieutenant."

  "Then get about it, my lad, and bear in mind that, in strictlyfollowing my instructions, you are working for your good and yourfreedom."

  "I know that, lieutenant, and so you may rely on me doing anything youdirect."

  "I know that too! Good, good--'tis time. You will see me ere long,Leon."

  The Drudge went his way without further observations.

  "Now I am left to myself," remarked Joe, sliding his bowie knife in itssheath and feeling that his revolvers were capped. "I shall never getsuch another chance to shine or be snuffed out. If I do not succeedin finding out some certainty to work upon, why, I'll--No, no, 'it'llnever do to gib it up so, Mr. Brown!'" he concluded, humming a niggerminstrel song, which teaches the very American moral of Never Despair.

  He took a full "square" look at the eternal lamp in the captain'sdwelling, but, instead of crossing the camp towards it, he turned awayand skirted the rocks. As soon as he reached a thorny bush ratherthick, he parted the twigs at the risk of tearing his hands, andslipped into the very centre, as if, like the fools in the nurseryjingle, he meant to scratch out his eyes.

  As one sometimes finds among those old natives of the Southwest, whosit up all night at the gambling table, Joe was a true _noctambulist:_he had the wild beasts' gift to see at night. Otherwise, it weredifficult to explain the unerring step with which he progressed throughthe dusk. Probably he had clearly traced in his mind the line he wasfollowing.