FLIGHT OF THE CROWS
Up and up went the balloon. Twelve stone is a heavy weight to be
freed from, and the great globe of gas and silk and cord soared
upwards like a bird. Beneath it, in the strange grey light which had
come in these higher regions of air with the evening, three human
beings still clung to life, although for the moment all its sweetness
seemed gone for them. A minute ago a strong, resolute leader was
with them, and now their scared white faces stared and stared at the
empty place on the hoop, at the cords his hands had held; but his
place was empty, no sound came from above or below, the majesty and
the sadness of night and the high places of the earth were around
them, and the familiar earth and hope were out of reach and out of
sight.
'Ah, Snap, it is well with you,' was perhaps the thought uppermost in
each one's heart as the dread stillness reigned around and the cold
grew, while a faintness and dizziness began to creep over them. In
another minute, had nothing been done to prevent their further
ascent, it is probable that Dick and Towzer would have been whirling
downwards through thousands of feet of air, until Nature's law had
been obeyed and earth had reached earth again. As for Frank, tied to
the ring and the ropes of the balloon, he had already succumbed,
owing probably to his weakness and recent loss of blood, and his
nerveless hands were hanging, like his head, weak and unconscious.
If brother and friend had fallen he would not have known, but would
have rushed higher and higher as the balloon shook off its human load.
Luckily, old Wharton's frame was as tough as steel. Years of a
trapper's life, long, lonely nights with the cattle, had hardened him
until he hardly felt the cold and scarcely knew fatigue. Rousing
himself from the stupor into which Snap's death had thrown him, his
quick eyes took in everything.
'Save 'em, Dick, was what he said,' muttered the old man; 'is this
saving of 'em, you old fool?'
'Young 'un!' he cried, and a voice which came from the inside of the
balloon replied, 'Young 'un!'
They were too high for earth echoes, but his voice was returned to
him as it were by the devil that was bearing them away. For so Dick
now considered the balloon. It had been their toy and their slave.
Men had given it life, they had trusted themselves to it, and now the
treacherous fiend had them in its grip and mocked at their puny
powers and impotent wills.
'Young 'un,' he cried again, 'which is the rope as he said we was to
pull if we wanted to go down?'
'This,' said Towzer dreamily, looking at one of which he had hold.
'Pull it, then, for dear life!' roared Wharton, and a mocking echo
came back: 'for dear life!'
'You devil!' cried the old man, his heavy black brows gathering
together like a thunder-cloud, 'I'd let your steam out if I'd my
six-shooter here.'
'Can't you pull it, Towzer?'
'No, Dick,' said the boy dreamily, 'my arm is too weak, and I can
hardly hold on with the other.'
Shifting his seat rapidly, careless of all risk to himself, even at
this height from the earth, Wharton reached the boy's side, and,
putting one strong arm round him and the rope he clung to, with the
other tugged furiously at the gas-valve. The change of Dick's
position upset the balloon's equilibrium, and it was a sufficiently
horrible sight to see Frank's apparently lifeless body hanging
towards them from the opposite side of the ring, limp and helpless,
whilst above them leaned the great balloon, the gas going out now
with quite a perceptible whistle. It was very soon evident that
their upward course had been stayed, and in another minute that they
were sinking again fast--too fast, Dick feared, and shut off steam as
he called it.
'Are you better now, Towzer?' he asked.
'Yes, Dick, I'm all right now, but I felt very weak a minute ago, and
my hand was numb,' replied the boy.
'Hold on while I tie you in,' said Dick, and, unfastening the
faithful lariat from his waist, he made the young one safe to the
balloon.
'Now you look out for yourself,' he said. 'I'm going round to Frank;
he is coming round a bit, and when we get together this brute of a
thing will heel over again; so look out,' and, so saying, he edged
his way round to Frank.
'Are we going down again, Dick?' he asked feebly.
'Yes, sonny,' replied the old man.
'Tell Towzer to pull the rope; let's go down to Snap and die, if
necessary, but don't go up there again,' and an expression of horror
indescribable grew in Frank's upward glance.
'We're a-goin' down pretty smart now, sonny!' said Wharton; 'here,
give yourself a hoist-up. There, that's better,' he said, as Frank
reached a sitting posture on the ring again.
It seemed almost as if, at last, a spirit of peace had entered into
the great creature above them. The air was brilliantly clear now,
and the first faint stars had come out. Down, down, the balloon kept
going, but steadily and evenly. The mists had cleared away now, and
in the starlight our voyagers could see the earth spread out like a
great map beneath them. It all looked level--almost hollow--as they
looked down upon it, and by no means gave them the idea of being part
of a solid sphere.
The balloon must have risen into a current of strong wind, for in the
short time since they had risen from over the Indian encampment they
had passed over the forest-belt and were now descending upon the
prairie by the river whereon the Crows used to have their autumn
camp, until the Spirit of the Lone Mountain appeared and frightened
them away. From point to point it must have been a distance of
twenty miles, but what is that to a machine which has been known to
travel at the rate of ninety miles an hour? Dick could not help
exclaiming, when he saw the distance which they had passed over:
'If you could only break these here critters to stop when you want
'em to, and to be a bit handy in turning, I reckon there would be a
considerable fall in railway shares.'
'Yes,' replied Frank, 'if the old German's invention for steering
balloons is as good as his invention for keeping the gas in them, it
would have made a good fortune for us all. Poor Snap!'
'Never mind Snap, sonny,' said old Wharton, roughly trying to hide
his emotion. 'You bet he don't want no fortunes where he's got took
to.'
'I suppose it wouldn't do to jump out now,' said Frank after a while,
as the balloon swept slowly along, quite close to the ground.
'Not unless you prefer hopping to walking for the rest of your life,'
said Wharton. 'You'd be lucky if you only smashed one leg.'
Just at that moment the light of the moon flashed back from a small
prairie-lake. Before the buffalo had left the prairie it had been a
favourite wallow and drinking-place of theirs. Now it was drying up
for want of its old-fashioned visitors, who beat and trampled its mud
floor into such a solid substance that it held the water all through
the long summer months. Still, there was a very considerable sheet
of water left.
'Dick!' cried Towzer, 'if we go over that I'll drop into it; it can't
hurt much, and I'm not going up again.'
'Wal, no more am I, if I can help it, and I reckon Frank there
doesn't want another ascent all by himself; so, if so be as we go
anywheres near that water, let's all drop off at once, sonny.'
This having been agreed upon, Frank and Towzer were hurriedly freed
from their cords.
The balloon was so low now that every moment the boys expected to be
dashed against the earth, but, as luck would have it, she skimmed
along like a great white owl in the moonlight, and hung for a moment
over the pool. It was enough. There were three sharp plunges in the
cool water, and when Dick and his companions came panting to the
surface they had parted for ever from the ship of the skies. Looking
up when they had gained the shore, they saw her sailing higher and
higher, the moonlight seeming to gather about and rest upon her until
she was the centre of a great halo.
'I ain't sure as them Injuns weren't right after all,' muttered Dick;
'dang me if I don't think as it is a sperrit.'
'Dick! let us go back to Snap,' was Frank's first remark after
realising that once more they were masters, more or less, of their
own actions.
'You're a good lad, Frank,' replied the old man heartily, 'but it
won't do. We could do no good; they'd just scalp us, and we could
not help Snap now anyway. Besides, do you think that lad could walk
twenty miles?'
'Yes, Dick, yes, I could easily,' cried Towzer, struggling to his
feet, but even as he did so he staggered.
The long fast, the peril and physical exertion of the last few days,
had utterly worn the boy out, and in spite of his plucky efforts he
could hardly stand.
'I know as your heart is strong enough, little 'un,' said Dick, 'but
your legs have struck work. Just you lie right here with your
brother while I look around for some'at to eat. There's some
matches, Frank; see if you can make up a little fire;' and, so
saying, Wharton left them.
After an absence of nearly an hour, during which Frank had contrived
to kindle a fire with grass and twigs and game droppings, and his
brother had fallen into a heavy, dreamless sleep, old Wharton
returned. Putting his hand into his shirt front he drew out about a
dozen roots, like small turnips. These he laid down by the fireside,
and after trimming them a little with his knife made a place for them
in the hot ashes, and set them therein to cook.
'Them's _pommes blanches_, Frank,' said Dick, 'leastways that's what
the Crows call 'em. I reckon they learnt it from the French
Canadians. Turnips I call 'em, and mighty good they are. Try one.'
Frank wanted no second invitation--cooked and uncooked was much the
same to him; anything would not come amiss which would fill up the
terrible vacuum which he felt inside him.
'Shall I wake the young 'un, Dick?' he asked.
'No, let him sleep a bit. When these things are cooked a bit we'll
wake him. He would make himself ill, bolting these _pommes blanches_
raw, if you woke him now.'
'Yes,' assented Frank, 'poor old Towzer! I expect, if he dined with
an ostrich to-day, he would eat his share even of mashed soda-water
bottles!'
'His share!' exclaimed Wharton, 'he'd starve that ostrich.'
By-and-by, the _pommes blanches_ being cooked, they woke the younger
Winthrop, and, if they did not manage to satisfy his appetite, at any
rate they finished the roots.
'Aren't there any more, Dick?' he asked.
'Not for supper,' replied the old man firmly.
'Well, then, let's begin breakfast, it is nearly morning,' urged the
boy.
'No, no, sonny, we'll all go to sleep now if you please, and
to-morrow we'll begin to work our way back to Rosebud,' said Wharton,
and, suiting the action to the word, he lay down where he was, and
slept or pretended to sleep.
When the boys opened their eyes it was broad daylight. Birds and
insects hung over the pool, beasts had been down to it to drink in
the night and had turned away frightened and disgusted at the human
taint in the air. The hum and stir of life was all around them. It
was quiet, perhaps, for earth, but how different from that dead,
appalling silence through which they had sailed but yesterday! Frank
almost wondered that the very sun's rays were not chilled and
blighted in passing through so drear a region.
But where was Wharton? He certainly was not in sight. Had the old
man gone for more food? if not, what had become of him? At the head
of Towzer's bed, if a lair on the rough prairie may be so called, was
a turnip cut in two, and on the smooth white surface was scratched
with a burnt stick, 'Wait here, I'll be back soon'--that was all.
Dick had guessed that the turnip would catch the hungry eye of Towzer
as soon as he awoke, so he had made it his messenger. But it did not
tell the boys much.
'It's not much good keeping this letter, is it, Frank?' asked Towzer.
'No,' replied his brother, 'why?'
'Well, you see there isn't much else for breakfast,' was Towzer's
answer, 'let's halve it; do you prefer the page with the writing on,
or the other?'
Frank laughed a very half-hearted and hollow laugh, and took the food
offered him. He was older, and could not forget, even for the
moment, as Towzer did.
'I wonder where Dick has gone to, young 'un,' he said after a minute
or two of silence; 'I don't believe, now I come to think of it, that
he did go to sleep when he pretended to last night. He didn't snore.'
'Well, then, he wasn't asleep,' asserted Towzer; 'but I can't tell
you anything about Dick, for if he was shamming I wasn't.'
At that moment the quiet charm of the morning was roughly broken; a
dozen rifle-shots echoed through the woods. Again and again came the
sharp crack of the fire-arms and the rattling echoes and
reverberations among the timber. Faint and far off, too, but still
distinct, they heard the Indians' war-whoop, a sound weird as the
wolf's call, and fierce as the Highlanders' slogan when the Camerons
and Lochiels drove Leslie's pikes and Leven's troopers into the
Garry's deepest pool. Man's hate or wild beasts' rage has found no
note in which to express itself, more full of terror to those who
hear it than the Blackfoots' war-whoop.
The boys sprang to their feet.
'Dick! Dick!' cried Frank in an agony of apprehension, 'have they
got you too, old friend?'
'No, no, Frank, they would not take so many shots to kill Dick.
Listen, it's a regular fight,' said Towzer practically. 'You bet
it's Warwolf and his Blackfeet giving "gip" to those Crows. I wish I
was there,' he added.
For half an hour the firing continued and then gradually ceased, one
or two scattered shots telling the story of the retreat and the
pertinacious and vengeful pursuit.
Towards midday a little band of horsemen emerged from the timber, and
came galloping towards the pool, their long hair and the scalp
trimmings of their deerskin shirts and trousers streaming behind them
as they rode.
'It's all up, I suppose,' muttered Frank, and in his heart he was
abusing his ill-luck, which had left him to fight his last fight with
no weapons and a lame arm.
Still it was pretty certain that, unless they shot him from a
distance, there would be one or two sturdy English blows struck
before the two Winthrop boys were bound and helpless.
At that moment, however, there was no need of lighting. A loud shout
drew their attention to one of the riders, his head bandaged in a
piece of coloured cloth, which streamed behind him like the Indians'
head-dresses, and in his hand a tomahawk, which had done enough work
that day to make the reputation of a dozen Blackfoot chiefs. It was
Dick Wharton riding the Cradle, and next moment he was alongside the
Winthrops, together with Warwolf and half a dozen other long-haired
braves.
After exchanging a few hurried sentences Wharton procured a lump of
pemmican (dried meat) from Warwolf, and proceeded to feed himself and
his young friends, the Blackfeet sitting silent and looking on
solemnly the while.
'After I'd got you two to go to sleep,' began Wharton between the
mouthfuls of pemmican, 'I got up and crept off to the timber.'
'Oh, then, you did play 'possum,' cried Frank; 'if you don't want to
be found out, you shouldn't forget to snore another time, Dick!'
'Wal, you were too sleepy to try to stop me anyway,' continued Dick,
'and I couldn't rest in camp; I wanted to take a look at the Crows'
camp and see if I could find poor Snap's body.'
Here a lump of pemmican seemed to go the wrong way and nearly choked
him. When he had swallowed the obstruction he continued:
'About five miles from here I came on the Blackfeet--ran right into
them; painters couldn't go quieter nor they were going, and they were
all round me before I knowed rightly where I was.'
Here Warwolf, who understood English, smiled gravely, and, turning,
repeated Dick's last sentence to his comrades, one of whom made a
reply which seemed to express the sentiments of the rest.
'What are they grinning at, Dick?' asked Frank.
'Oh,' replied Dick, 'old Bear's-tooth said as it was only pale-faces
who break twigs on the war-path. Wal, perhaps he's right. For
sartin, they broke none to-day, but they broke a good many heads an
hour or two later,' and the boys' eyes followed Wharton's to the gory
trophies which hung by their long black locks from the girdles of the
Blackfoot chiefs.
'Had our brother, the white hunter, been as ready with his
scalping-knife as with his tomahawk,' interrupted Warwolf, 'there
would have been more scalps at his girdle than at ours.'
It was a handsome speech from an Indian to a white warrior, and old
Wharton acknowledged it.
'I don't spekilate much in that kind of fur,' he allowed; 'if I do
take a fancy to trimming my shirt or pants, I rayther prefer grizzly
to Crow.'
'Then you were at the fight, Dick?' asked Towzer.
'Oh, so you've time to make a remark, have you, young 'un?' said
Frank; 'I've been watching you some time, and didn't know which would
open widest, your eyes or your mouth.'
'Yes, I was at the fight, you bet,' replied Dick, 'and did what I
could with this here handy little instrument; but I'd like to have
had my six-shooter. Howsomdever, there ain't many Crows to kill now;
we surprised them beautifully;' and the old man almost smacked his
lips over the grim memory.
'If my brothers are ready,' said Warwolf when even Towzer had
finished eating, 'we will start. As it is, we shall hardly reach the
Crows' camp by the Lone Mountain before nightfall.'
'Right you are, Warwolf,' said Dick; 'come on. Here, young 'un, you
get up on "the Cradle."'
It now appeared that the Indians had two more led horses with them,
on which Dick and Frank mounted.
In spite of their previous exertions all were eager to reach the
Crows' encampment, a hope of plunder urging on the Blackfeet, whilst
the voice of hope, which never dies out in the human breast, kept
whispering to the other three that it might just be possible--just
possible--that Snap still lived.