The Dog Crusoe and his Master Part 22

"Ay, that wasn't much, was it?"

"You've begun well, yonker," said a tall middle-aged hunter, whose general appearance was not unlike that of Joe Blunt. "Jest keep clear o' the Injuns an' the grog bottle an' ye've a glor'ous life before ye."

At this point the conversation was interrupted by the order being given to move on, which was obeyed in silence, and the cavalcade, descending the valley, entered one of the gorges in the mountains.

For the first half mile Cameron rode a little ahead of his men, then he turned to speak to one of them and for the first time observed Crusoe trotting close beside his master's horse.

"Ah! Master d.i.c.k," he exclaimed with a troubled expression, "that won't do. It would never do to take a dog on an expedition like this."

"Why not?" asked d.i.c.k, "the pup's quiet and peaceable."

"I doubt it not, but he will betray our presence to the Indians, which might be inconvenient."

"I've travelled more than a thousand miles through prairie and forest, among game an' among Injuns, an' the pup never betrayed me yet," said d.i.c.k, with suppressed vehemence; "he has saved my life more than once though."

"You seem to have perfect confidence in your dog, but as this is a serious matter you must not expect me to share in it without proof of his trustworthiness."

"The pup may be useful to us; how would you have it proved?" inquired d.i.c.k.

"Any way you like."

"You forgot your belt at starting, I think I heered ye say."

"Yes, I did," replied the trader, smiling.

d.i.c.k immediately took hold of Cameron's coat, and bade Crusoe smell it, which the dog did very carefully. Then he showed him his own belt and said: "Go back to the camp and fetch it, pup."

Crusoe was off in a moment, and in less than twenty minutes returned with Cameron's belt in his mouth.

"Well, I'll trust him," said Cameron, patting Crusoe's head. "Forward, lads!" and away they went at a brisk trot along the bottom of a beautiful valley on each side of which the mountains towered in dark ma.s.ses. Soon the moon rose and afforded light sufficient to enable them to travel all night in the track of the Indian hunter who said he had seen the Peigans, and who was const.i.tuted guide to the party. Hour after hour the hors.e.m.e.n pressed on without check, now galloping over a level plain, now bounding by the banks of a rivulet, or bending their heads to escape the boughs of overhanging trees, and anon toiling slowly up among the rocks of some narrow defile. At last the moon set, and the order was given to halt in a little plain where there was wood and water.

The horses were picketted, a fire kindled, a mouthful of dried meat hastily eaten, the watch was set, and then each man sc.r.a.ped away the snow, spread some branches on the ground, and, wrapping himself in his blanket, went to sleep with his feet presented towards the fire.

Two hours were allowed for rest; then they were awakened, and in a few minutes were off again by the grey light of dawn. In this way they travelled two nights and a day. At the end of that time they came suddenly on a small party of nine Indians who were seated on the ground with their snow-shoes and blankets by their sides. They had evidently been taken by surprise, but they made no attempt to escape, knowing that it was useless. Each sat still with his bow and arrows between his legs on the ground ready for instant use.

As soon as Cameron spoke, however, in their own language they felt relieved and began to talk.

"Where do you come from, and what are you doing here?" asked the trader.

"We have come to trade with the white men," one of them replied, "and to hunt. We have come from the Missouri. Our country is far away."

"Do Peigans hunt with _war-arrows_?" asked Cameron, pointing to their weapons.

This question seemed to perplex them, for they saw that their interrogator knew the difference between a war and a hunting arrow--the former being barbed in order to render its extraction from the wound difficult, while the head of the latter is round and can be drawn out of game that has been killed, and used again.

"And do Peigans," continued Cameron, "come from a far country to trade with the white men _with nothing_?"

Again the Indians were silent, for they had not an article of trade about them.

Cameron now felt convinced that this party of Peigans, into whose hands Joe Blunt and Henri had fallen, were nothing else than a war-party, and that the men now before him were a scouting-party sent out from them, probably to spy out his own camp, on the trail of which they had fallen, so he said to them--

"The Peigans are not wise men, they tell lies to the traders. I will tell you that you are a war-party, and that you are only a few warriors sent out to spy the traders' camp. You have also two _Pale-face_ prisoners in your camp. You cannot deceive me. It is useless to try.

Now, conduct me to your camp. My object is not war; it is peace. I will speak with your chiefs about trading with the white men, and we will smoke the pipe of peace. Are my words good?"

Despite their proverbial control of muscle, these Indians could not conceal their astonishment at hearing so much of their affairs thus laid bare, so they said that the Pale-face chief was wise, that he must be a great medicine-man, and that what he said was all true except about the white men. They had never seen any Pale-faces, and knew nothing whatever about those he spoke of.

This was a terrible piece of news to poor d.i.c.k, and at first his heart fairly sank within him, but by degrees he came to be more hopeful. He concluded that if these men told lies in regard to one thing they would do it in regard to another, and perhaps they might have some strong reason for denying any knowledge of Joe and Henri.

The Indians now packed up the buffalo robes on which they had slept, and the mouthful of provisions they had taken with them.

"I don't believe a word of what they say about your friends," said Cameron to d.i.c.k in a low tone while the Indians were thus engaged.

"Depend upon it they hope to hide them till they can send to the settlements and get a ransom, or till they get an opportunity of torturing them to death before their women and children when they get back to their own village. But we'll baulk them, my friend, do not fear."

The Indians were soon ready to start, for they were lumbered with marvellously little camp equipage. In less than half an hour after their discovery they were running like deer ahead of the cavalcade in the direction of the Peigan camp.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

ADVENTURES WITH THE PEIGANS--CRUSOE DOES GOOD SERVICE AS A DISCOVERER-- THE SAVAGES OUTWITTED--THE RESCUE.

A run of twenty miles brought the travellers to a rugged defile in the mountains, from which they had a view of a beautiful valley of considerable extent. During the last two days a steady thaw had been rapidly melting away the snow, so that it appeared only here and there in the landscape in dazzling patches. At the distance of about half a mile from where they halted to breathe the horses before commencing the descent into this vale, several thin wreaths of smoke were seen rising above the trees.

"Is that your camp?" inquired Cameron, riding up to the Indian runners who stood in a group in front, looking as fresh after their twenty miles' run as though they had only had a short walk.

To this they answered in the affirmative, adding that there were about two hundred Peigans there.

It might have been thought that thirty men would have hesitated to venture to attack so large a number as two hundred; but it had always been found in the experience of Indian life, that a few resolute white men well armed were more than a match for ten times their number of Indians. And this arose not so much from the superior strength or agility of the whites over their red foes, as from that bull-dog courage and utter recklessness of their lives in combat,--qualities which the crafty savage can neither imitate nor understand. The information was received with perfect indifference by most of the trappers, and with contemptuous laughter by some, for a large number of Cameron's men were wild, evil-disposed fellows, who would have as gladly taken the life of an Indian as a buffalo.

Just as the word was given to resume the march, d.i.c.k Varley rode up to Cameron, and said in a somewhat anxious tone--"D'ye obsarve, sir, that one o' the Red-skins has gone off ahead o' his comrades?"

"I see that, Master d.i.c.k, and it was a mistake of mine not to have stopped him, but he was gone too far before I observed it, and I thought it better to appear unconcerned. We must push on, though, and give him as short time as possible to talk with his comrades in the camp."

The trappers pressed forward accordingly at a gallop, and were soon in front of the clump of trees amongst which the Peigans were encamped.

Their approach had evidently spread great alarm among them, for there was a good deal of bustle and running to and fro, but by the time the trappers had dismounted and advanced in a body on foot, the savages had resumed their usual quiet dignity of appearance, and were seated calmly round their fires with their bows and arrows beside them. There were no tents, no women or children, and the general aspect of the men showed Cameron conclusively that his surmise about their being a war-party was correct.

A council was immediately called; the trappers ranged themselves on one side of the council-fire and the Indians on the other. Meanwhile, our friend Crusoe had been displaying considerable irritability against the Indians, and he would certainly have attacked the whole two hundred single-handed if he had not been ordered by his master to lie still, but never in his life before had Crusoe obeyed with such a bad grace. He bristled and whined in a low tremulous tone, and looked imploringly at d.i.c.k as if for permission to fly at them.

"The Pale-faced traders are glad to meet with the Peigans," began Cameron, who determined to make no allusion to his knowledge that they were a war-party, "for they wish to be friends with all the children of the woods and prairies. They wish to trade with them; to exchange blankets, and guns, and beads, and other goods which the Peigans require, for furs of animals which the Pale-faces require."

"Ho! ho!" exclaimed the Indians; which expression might be translated, "Hear, hear."

"But," continued Cameron, "we wish to have no war. We wish to see the hatchet buried, and to see all the Red-men and the white men smoking the pipe of peace, and hunting like brothers."

The "Ho-ho-ing" at this was very emphatic.

"Now," resumed the trader, "the Peigans have got two prisoners--two Pale-faces--in their camp, and, as we cannot be on good terms while our brothers are detained, we have come to ask for them, and to _present some gifts_ to the Peigans."