The Wild Man of the West Part 26

The horse obeyed, and disappeared in the darkness beyond.

"Now, lad, don't be afear'd, I know every fut o' the way. Ye can shut yer eyes an ye like--but there's no occasion."

Saying this, he advanced with a steady tread into the cave, the echoes of which were still ringing with the clatter of the horse's hoofs as it pa.s.sed over the stone floor. It could not have been more than a quarter of a minute when they reached the end of what appeared to be the outer vestibule of this cavern, though to March it seemed to be more than five minutes; and, now that he could no longer see the blue eyes, all manner of horrible doubts and fears a.s.sailed him. He felt deeply his helpless condition, poor fellow. Had he been sound in wind and limb he would have cared little; for a brave and a strong man naturally feels that he can fight a stout battle for life in all or any circ.u.mstances. But part of this prop (namely, strength) having been removed by his recent accident, he felt like a miserable child.

Doubtless it is good for strong men to be brought thus low sometimes, just to prove to them, what they are by nature very slow to believe, that they, quite as much as the weak and helpless ones of this world, are dependent at all times on their fellows.

On reaching the end of the outer cave, the hunter turned to the left, stooped down in order to pa.s.s below a small natural arch, and finally stood still in the middle of another cavern, on the floor of which he deposited his burden with much tenderness and care.

There was light in this cave, but it was so dim as to be insufficient to illuminate the surrounding objects. March perceived on looking up that it entered through a small aperture in the side of the cavern near the roof, which was not more than twelve feet from the floor. There were several pieces of charred wood on one side of the cave, in which a few sparks of fire still lingered.

Without saying a word the owner of this strange abode went towards these, and, blowing them into a flame, heaped large logs upon them, so that, in ten minutes, the place was brilliantly illuminated with a ruddy blaze that did one's heart good to look upon.

By the light of the fire March perceived that he had been deposited on a couch of pine-branches. He was about to make other observations, when his captor turned to him and said--

"I'll go an' see to the horse, and be back in a minute; so keep yer mind easy."

"And, pray, what name am I to call my host by?" said March, unable to restrain his curiosity any longer.

A dark, almost fierce frown covered the man's face, as he said angrily, "Boy, curiosity is a bad thing--anywise, it's bad here. I've brought you to this cave 'cause you'd ha' died i' the woods if I hadn't. Don't ask questions about what don't consarn ye."

"Nay, friend, I meant no offence," replied March. "I've no desire to pry into any man's secrets. Nevertheless, it's but natural to want to know how to address a man when ye converse with him."

"True, true," replied the other, somewhat mollified. "Call me d.i.c.k; it's as good a name as any, and better than my own."

There was a slight touch of bitterness in the tone in which this was said, as the man turned on his heel to quit the cave.

"Stay," cried March, "you only give me one name, friend, so I'll do the same by you. My name's March--there, now you may march about your business."

d.i.c.k smiled and said, "Well, March, I'll be with ye again, and have a look at your sore bones, in two minutes."

When he was gone March, for the first time since his accident, bethought him of his comrades. Since recovering from the state of insensibility into which his fall had thrown him, his mind had been so absorbed by the strange events that had been presented to him in such rapid succession, as well as with the pain that racked his head and limbs, that he had had no time to think about them. But, now that he was left in that quiet place alone, the whole circ.u.mstances of the recent pursuit and flight rushed suddenly upon him, and his mind was filled with anxious forebodings as to the fate of his comrades.

"Oh! I'm glad you've come back," he cried, as d.i.c.k re-entered the cave; "I quite forgot my comrades--shame on me! but my miserable head has got such a smash, that a'most everything's bin drove out of it."

"Time enough to speak o' them after we've seen to your bones," said d.i.c.k.

"Nay, but--"

"_After_," said d.i.c.k in a tone that was not to be gainsaid.

March submitted with a sigh, and his eccentric host proceeded to manipulate and punch him in a way that might perhaps have been highly necessary, but was by no means agreeable. After a few minutes he p.r.o.nounced his patient all right, only a little bruised! Having said which, he proceeded to prepare some food, and said to March that he might now speak about his comrades.

At first he seemed to pay little attention to the youth's hasty narrative; but on hearing that the Indians were hastening to attack the Mountain Fort, he sprang up, and asked a few questions eagerly. It was evident that the news troubled him deeply.

Taking one or two hasty strides up and down the cavern, and paying no attention to the roasting meat, which he seemed to have utterly forgotten, the Wild Man of the West muttered angrily to himself, and a slight dash of that tiger-like flash, which had gone so far to earn him his t.i.tle, lighted up his blue eyes, insomuch that March Marston looked at him in amazement not unmingled with awe. Thoughts of the Wild Man of the West once more occurred to him; but in his former cogitations on that subject he had so thoroughly discarded the idea of this kind, blue-eyed hunter being that far-famed and ferocious individual, that his thoughts only took the form of the mental question, "I wonder if the Wild Man o' the West could beat such a fellow as that at a fair stand-up fight?" So powerfully did this thought affect him, that he could not refrain from exclaiming--

"I say, d.i.c.k, did you ever hear of the Wild Man of the West?"

d.i.c.k was so much tickled by the question that his angry mood vanished, and, turning towards his guest with a smile, while his blue eyes seemed milder than they ever had appeared before, he said--

"Yes, lad, I've heard of him."

"Have you seen him?" continued March eagerly.

"I have, many a time."

"What is he like?"

"He's like me," replied d.i.c.k with another smile, the softness of which would have driven March to an immeasurable distance from the truth, had he ever been near it.

"Like _you_! Oh, I suppose you mean he's something about your size.

Well, I don't wonder at that, for you're an uncommonly big fellow, d.i.c.k; but I fancy his appearance is very different."

"Well, no. He's got light hair and blue eyes, like me."

This was a poser to March. It was so totally subversive of all his preconceived ideas, that it reduced him for some moments to silence.

"Isn't he hairy all over, like a fox, and very ugly?" inquired March, recovering from his surprise.

This was a poser, in turn, to the Wild Man. To be called upon suddenly to p.r.o.nounce an opinion on his own looks was embarra.s.sing, to say the least of it.

"He's not exactly hairy all over," said d.i.c.k after a moment's thought, "though it can't be denied he's got plenty of hair on his head and chin--like me. As for his looks, lad, it ain't easy to say whether he's ugly or pritty, for men don't agree on sich pints, d'ye see?"

"Do sit down beside me, d.i.c.k, and tell me about this Wild Man," said March earnestly. "You can't fancy how anxious I am to see him. I've come here for that very purpose. No doubt I've come to shoot and trap, too, but chiefly to see the Wild Man o' the West. An' isn't it provokin'? I might have seen him some weeks agone, if I hadn't bin stunned with a fall jist as he came jumpin' into the middle o' us like a clap o' thunder--"

"What, lad," interrupted d.i.c.k, "was it _you_ that I--"

Just at this moment d.i.c.k was seized with a very violent fit of coughing, which, coming as it did from such a capacious chest and so powerful a pair of lungs, caused the roof of the cavern to reverberate with what might have been mistaken, outside, for a species of miniature artillery.

"You've caught cold," suggested March, who gazed in unspeakable admiration at the magnificent locks and beard of this remarkable man, as they shook with the violence of his exertion.

"I _never_ had a cold," replied d.i.c.k, becoming quiet again; "there's other things as cause a man for to cough, now and agin', besides colds."

"True," rejoined March; "but you were sayin' somethin'--do you know of the fight I was speakin' of?"

"Know of it--ay, that do I."

"Why, how did you happen to hear of it?"

"It's wonderful, lad, how I comes to know about things in this part o'

the country. I know everything the Wild Man does. He can't move without my bein' on his track d'rectly. In fact, I follers him like his shadow--leastwise, his shadow follers me."

"Indeed," exclaimed March, whose interest in d.i.c.k became suddenly tenfold more deep on learning this. "But why do you follow him about in this fas.h.i.+on? Does he like your company, or do you only follow him on the sly, and keep out of sight? Explain yourself, d.i.c.k--you puzzle me."

"I can't explain just now, lad," said d.i.c.k, rising abruptly. "You forget that your comrades may be in a fix before now wi' them blackguard redskins. I must go an' help them. It's but right that white men should lend one another a helpin' hand in these regions, where the Injuns have it almost all their own way."

"But the Mountain Fort is far away from this, an' I'm afraid you'll never be able to get there in time," said March with an anxious expression of countenance.