CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
THE RETURN--NARROW ESCAPE--A MURDEROUS ATTEMPT, WHICH FAILS--AND ADISCOVERY.
All nature was joyous and brilliant, and bright and beautiful. Morningwas still very young--about an hour old. Sounds of the most cheerful,light-hearted character floated over the waters and echoed through thewoods, as birds and beasts hurried to and fro with all the bustlingenergy that betokened preparation and search for breakfast. Fish leapedin the pools with a rapidity that brought forcibly to mind that wisesaying, "The more hurry, the less speed;" for they appeared constantlyto miss their mark, although they jumped twice their own length out ofthe water in the effort.
Ducks and geese sprang from their liquid beds with an amazing amount ofunnecessary sputter, as if they had awakened to the sudden consciousnessof being late for breakfast, then alighted in the water again with a_squash_, on finding (probably) that it was too early for that meal,but, observing other flocks passing and repassing on noisy wing, took toflight again, unable, apparently, to restrain their feelings of delightat the freshness of the morning air, the brightness of the rising sun,and the sweet perfume of the dewy verdure, as the mists cleared awayover the tree-tops and lost themselves in the blue sky. Everythingseemed instinct not only with life, but with a large amount ofsuperabundant energy. Earth, air, sky, animal, vegetable, and mineral,solid, and liquid, all were either actually in a state of lively,exulting motion, or had a peculiarly sprightly look about them, as ifnature had just burst out of prison _en masse_, and gone raving mad withjoy.
Such was the delectable state of things the morning on which two canoesdarted from the camp of the Knisteneux, amid many expressions ofgood-will. One canoe contained our two friends, Charley and Jacques;the other, Redfeather and his wife Wabisca.
A few strokes of the paddle shot them out into the stream, which carriedthem rapidly away from the scene of their late festivities. In fiveminutes they swept round a point which shut them out from view, and theywere swiftly descending those rapid rivers that had cost Charley andJacques so much labour to ascend.
"Look out for rocks ahead, Mr Charles," cried Jacques, as he steeredthe light bark into the middle of a rapid, which they had avoided whenascending by making a portage. "Keep well to the left o' yon swirl._Parbleu_, if we touch the rock _there_, it'll be all over with us."
"All right," was Charley's laconic reply. And so it proved, for theircanoe, after getting fairly into the run of the rapid, was evidentlyunder the complete command of its expert crew, and darted forward amidthe foaming waters like a thing instinct with life. Now it careered andplunged over the waves where the rough bed of the stream made them morethan usually turbulent. Anon it flew with increased rapidity through anarrow gap where the compressed water was smooth and black, but deep andpowerful, rendering great care necessary to prevent the canoe's frailsides from being dashed on the rocks. Then it met a curling wave, intowhich it plunged like an impetuous charger, and was checked for a momentby its own violence. Presently an eddy threw the canoe a little out ofits course, disconcerting Charley's intention of _shaving_ a rock whichlay in their track, so that he slightly grazed it in passing.
"Ah, Mr Charles," said Jacques, shaking his head, "that was not welldone; an inch more would have sent us down the rapids like drownedcats."
"True," replied Charley, somewhat crestfallen; "but you see the otherinch was not lost, so we're not much the worse for it."
"Well, after all, it was a ticklish bit, and I should have guessed thatyour experience was not up to it quite. I've seen many a man in my daywho wouldn't ha' done it _half_ so slick, an' yet ha' thought no smallbeer of himself; so you needn't be ashamed, Mr Charles. But Wabiscabeats you, for all that," continued the hunter, glancing hastily overhis shoulder at Redfeather, who followed closely in their wake, he andhis modest-looking wife guiding their little craft through the dangerouspassage with the utmost _sangfroid_ and precision.
"We've about run them all now," said Jacques, as they paddled over asheet of still water which intervened between the rapid they had justdescended and another which thundered about a hundred yards in advance.
"I was so engrossed with the one we have just come down," said Charley,"that I quite forgot this one."
"Quite right, Mr Charles," said Jacques, in an approving tone, "quiteright. I holds that a man should always attend to what he's at, an' tonothin' else. I've lived long in the woods now, and that fact becomesmore and more sartin every day. I've know'd chaps, now, as timersome assettlement girls, that were always in such a mortal funk about what_was_ to happen, or _might_ happen, that they were never fit foranything that _did_ happen; always lookin' ahead, and never around them.Of coorse, I don't mean that a man shouldn't look ahead at all, buttheir great mistake was that they looked out too far ahead, and alwayskep' their eyes nailed there, just as if they had the fixin' o'everything, an' Providence had nothin' to do with it at all. I mind aCanadian o' that sort that travelled in company with me once. We weregoin' just as we are now, Mr Charles, two canoes of us--him and acomrade in one, and me and a comrade in t'other. One night we got to alot o' rapids that came one after another for the matter o' three milesor thereabouts. They were all easy ones, however, except the last; butit _was_ a tickler, with a sharp turn o' the land that hid it from sighttill ye were right into it, with a foamin' current, and a range o'ragged rocks that stood straight in front o' ye, like the teeth of across-cut saw. It was easy enough, however, if a man _knew_ it, and wasa cool hand. Well, the _pauvre_ Canadian was in a terrible takin' aboutthis shoot long afore he came to it. He had run it often enough inboats where he was one of a half-dozen men, and had nothin' to do butlook on; but he had never _steered_ down it before. When he came to thetop o' the rapids, his mind was so filled with this shoot that hecouldn't attend to nothin', and scraped agin' a dozen rocks in almostsmooth water, so that when he got little more than half-way down, thecanoe was as rickety as if it had just come off a six months' cruise.At last we came to the big rapid, and after we'd run down our canoe Iclimbed the bank to see them do it. Down they came, the poor Canadianwhite as a sheet, and his comrade, who was brave enough, but knewnothin' about light craft, not very comfortable. At first he could seenothin' for the point, but in another moment round they went, end on,for the big rocks. The Canadian gave a great yell when he saw them, andplunged at the paddle till I thought he'd have capsized altogether.They ran it well enough, straight between the rocks (more by good luckthan good guidance), and sloped down to the smooth water below; but thecanoe had got such a battering in the rapids above, where an Injin babycould have steered it in safety, that the last plunge shook it all topieces. It opened up, and lay down flat on the water; while the two menfell right through the bottom, screechin' like mad, and rolling aboutamong shreds o' birch-bark!"
While Jacques was thus descanting philosophically on his experiences intime past, they had approached the head of the second rapid, and inaccordance with the principles just enunciated, the stout backwoodsmangave his undivided attention to the work before him. The rapid wasshort and deep, so that little care was required in descending it,excepting at one point, where the stream rushed impetuously between tworocks about six yards asunder. Here it was requisite to keep the canoeas much in the middle of the stream as possible.
Just as they began to feel the drag of the water, Redfeather was heardto shout in a loud, warning tone, which caused Jacques and Charley toback their paddles hurriedly.
"What can the Injin mean, I wonder?" said Jacques, in a perplexed tone."He don't look like a man that would stop us at the top of a strongrapid for nothin'."
"It's too late to do that now, whatever is his reason," said Charley, ashe and his companion struggled in vain to paddle up stream.
"It's o' no use, Mr Charles; we must run it now--the current's toostrong to make head against. Besides, I do think the man has only seena bear, or somethin' o' that sort, for I see he's ashore, and jumpin'among the bushes like a caribou."
Saying
this, they turned the canoe's head down stream again, and allowedit to drift, merely retarding its progress a little with the paddles.
Suddenly Jacques uttered a sharp exclamation. "_Mon Dieu_!" said he,"it's plain enough now. Look there!"
Jacques pointed as he spoke to the narrows which they were nowapproaching with tremendous speed, which increased every instant. Aheavy tree lay directly across the stream, reaching from rock to rock,and placed in such a way that it was impossible for a canoe to descendwithout being dashed in pieces against it. This was the more curiousthat no trees grew in the immediate vicinity, so that this one must havebeen designedly conveyed there.
"There has been foul work here," said Jacques, in a deep tone. "We mustdive, Mr Charles; there's no chance any way else, and _that's_ but apoor one."
This was true. The rocks on each side rose almost perpendicularly outof the water, so that it was utterly impossible to run ashore, and theonly way of escape, as Jacques said, was by diving under the tree--athing involving great risk, as the stream immediately below was brokenby rocks, against which it dashed in foam, and through which the chancesof steering one's way in safety by means of swimming were very slenderindeed.
Charley made no reply, but with tightly-compressed lips, and a look ofstern resolution on his brow, threw off his coat, and hastily tied hisbelt tightly round his waist. The canoe was now sweeping forward withlightning speed; in a few minutes it would be dashed to pieces.
At that moment a shout was heard in the woods, and Redfeather dartingout, rushed over the ledge of rock on which one end of the tree rested,seized the trunk in his arms, and exerting all his strength, hurled itover into the river. In doing so he stumbled, and ere he could recoverhimself a branch caught him under the arm as the tree fell over, anddragged him into the boiling stream. This accident was probably themeans of saving his life, for just as he fell the loud report of a gunrang through the woods, and a bullet passed through his cap. For asecond or two both man and tree were lost in the foam, while the canoedashed past in safety. The next instant Wabisca passed the narrows inher small craft, and steered for the tree. Redfeather, who had risenand sunk several times, saw her as she passed, and making a violenteffort, he caught hold of the gunwale, and was carried down in safety.
"I'll tell you what it is," said Jacques, as the party stood on a rockpromontory after the events just narrated: "I would give a dollar tohave that fellow's nose and the sights o' my rifle in a line at anydistance short of two hundred yards."
"It was Misconna," said Redfeather. "I did not see him, but there's notanother man in the tribe that could do that."
"I'm thankful we escaped, Jacques. I never felt so near death before,and had it not been for the timely aid of our friend here, it strikes methat our wild life would have come to an abrupt close.--God bless you,Redfeather," said Charley, taking the Indian's hand in both of his andkissing it.
Charley's ebullition of feeling was natural. He had not yet become usedto the dangers of the wilderness so as to treat them with indifference.Jacques, on the other hand, had risked his life so often that escapefrom danger was treated very much as a matter of course, and calledforth little expression of feeling. Still, it must not be inferred fromthis that his nature had become callous. The backwoodsman's frame washard and unyielding as iron, but his heart was as soft still as it wason the day on which he first donned the hunting-shirt, and there wasmuch more of tenderness than met the eye in the squeeze that he gaveRedfeather's hand on landing.
As the four travellers encircled the fire that night, under the leafybranches of the forest, and smoked their pipes in concert, while Wabiscabusied herself in clearing away the remnants of their evening meal, theywaxed communicative, and stories, pathetic, comic, and tragic, followedeach other in rapid succession.
"Now, Redfeather," said Charley, while Jacques rose and went down to theluggage to get more tobacco, "tell Jacques about the way in which yougot your name. I am sure he will feel deeply interested in that story--at least I am certain that Harry Somerville and I did when you told itto us the day we were wind-bound on Lake Winnipeg."
Redfeather made no reply for a few seconds. "Will Mr Charles speak forme?" he said at length; "his tongue is smooth and quick."
"A doubtful kind of compliment," said Charley, laughing; "but I will, ifyou don't wish to tell it yourself."
"And don't mention names. Do not let him know that you speak of me ormy friends," said the Indian, in a low whisper, as Jacques returned andsat down by the fire again.
Charley gave him a glance of surprise; but being prevented from askingquestions, he nodded in reply, and proceeded to relate to his friend thestory that has been recounted in a previous chapter. Redfeather leanedback against a tree, and appeared to listen intently.
Charley's powers of description were by no means inconsiderable, and thebackwoodsman's face assumed a look of good-humoured attention as thestory proceeded. But when the narrator went on to tell of the meditatedattack and the midnight march, his interest was aroused, the pipe whichhe had been smoking was allowed to go out, and he gazed at his youngfriend with the most earnest attention. It was evident that thehunter's spirit entered with deep sympathy into such scenes; and whenCharley described the attack, and the death of the trapper's wife,Jacques seemed unable to restrain his feelings. He leaned his elbows onhis knees, buried his face in his hands, and groaned aloud.
"Mr Charles," he said, in a deep voice, when the story was ended,"there are two men I would like to meet with in this world before I die:one is the young Injin who tried to save that girl's life, the other isthe cowardly villain that took it. I don't mean the one who finishedthe bloody work; my rifle sent his accursed spirit to its own place--"
"_Your_ rifle!" cried Charley, in amazement.
"Ay, mine! It was _my_ wife who was butchered by these savage dogs onthat dark night. Oh, what avails the strength o' that right arm!" saidJacques bitterly, as he lifted up his clenched fist; "it was powerlessto save her--the sweet girl who left her home and people to follow me, arough hunter, through the lonesome wilderness!"
He covered his face again, and groaned in agony of spirit, while hiswhole frame quivered with emotion.
Jacques remained silent, and his sympathising friends refrained fromintruding on a sorrow which they felt they had no power to relieve.
At length he spoke. "Yes," said he; "I would give much to meet with theman who tried to save her. I saw him do it twice; but the devils abouthim were too eager to be balked of their prey."
Charley and the Indian exchanged glances. "That Indian's name," saidthe former, "was _Redfeather_!"
"What!" exclaimed the trapper, jumping to his feet, and graspingRedfeather, who had also risen, by the two shoulders, stared wildly intohis face; "was it you that did it?"
Redfeather smiled, and held out his hand, which the other took and wrungwith an energy that would have extorted a cry of pain from any one butan Indian. Then dropping it suddenly and clinching his hands, heexclaimed:--
"I said that I would like to meet the villain who killed her--yes, Isaid it in passion, when your words had roused all my old feelingsagain; but I am thankful--I bless God that I did not know this sooner--that you did not tell me of it when I was at the camp, for I verilybelieve that I would not only have fixed _him_, but half the warriors o'your tribe too, before they had settled _me_!"
It need scarcely be added that the friendship which already subsistedbetween Jacques and Redfeather was now doubly cemented; nor will itcreate surprise when we say that the former, in the fullness of hisheart, and from sheer inability to find adequate outlets for theexpression of his feelings, offered Redfeather in succession all thearticles of value he possessed, even to his much-loved rifle, and wasseriously annoyed at their not being accepted. At last he finished offby assuring the Indian that he might look out for him soon at themissionary settlement, where he meant to stay with him evermore in thecapacity of hunter, fisherman, and jack-of-all-trades to the w
hole clan.