SNAP'S STORY
It was in the grey of the morning, at that mysterious time when the
earth is just beginning to think about awaking--before there is any
sunlight in the sky--although the shamefaced whiteness of the stars
suggests that a greater light than theirs is coming. All was still
misty and undefined, a land of shadowy dreams, and the camp of the
Crows was silent as a cemetery at midnight. The tall teepees, or
tents of deerskin, looked white and ghastly, and the long fringes of
scalp-locks which ran down their seams and fluttered from their poles
whispered vaguely horrible things to that little chill wind which
always precedes the dawn. By-and-by, if anyone had been listening
(and surely the Crows should have had some sentinels about), a bird
began to move restlessly among the dry leaves, which he rattled as
noisily as if his wee body was as big as an elephant's. With a quick
querulous chirp he fluttered away, and from time to time another bird
woke, chattered, and followed him. Then it seemed to the pale
morning star which was watching the camp, and which no doubt has seen
many such sights before, that some of the trees were double, for one
stem stood still whilst another parted from it, flitted for a moment
across an open glade, and then disappeared. Presently these moving
trees grew plainer, flitting hither and thither, swift and
silent-footed Indians, or the ghosts of Indians, their long hair
adorned with eagle-plumes and their lithe red bodies nearly naked.
Then a heavier and better-dressed figure appeared, and three or four
Redskins gathered round it. Bending down and listening, the star
heard Wharton (for it was he) whisper to Warwolf:
'No! no! my brother, creep in like catamounts. These Crows are
cunning as Satan, and like enough them deserted-looking tents is full
of braves waiting to shoot you down as you charge. Scatter and come
in on all sides separately, so as not to give 'em a solid lump to
fire into.'
'Our brother is a great warrior, wiser than the serpent,' said
Warwolf; 'let us take his advice;' and, so saying, he and his
comrades disappeared again amongst the pines.
The Crows' camp looked for all the world as if animation had been
suddenly suspended in it, as if in the full swing and vigour of life
it had been frozen or paralysed. The teepees of beautifully tanned
white deerskin, painted with all manner of quaint devices in red
ochre and other bright pigments, stood with their flaps thrown back
as if the occupants had just entered them. They were fine teepees,
as well made and as big as any you will see on the North American
continent, standing as much as twenty feet high, and some of them
(one, at any rate) big enough to hold thirty men. On little rails of
rough-cut boughs still hung some long strips of deer-meat, drying for
winter use, while the hides of the beasts whose flesh this was, were
pegged out upon the ground near the tents. On one skin lay a
sharp-edged white instrument, the shoulder-blade of a wapiti, as if
just dropped by the squaw who had been cleaning the skin with it.
Over two fires in the open, hung big cauldrons. The fires were out,
and looked grey and cheerless enough, but the coyote, who had been
smelling round the camp all night, did not think that they were
empty. By-and-by, when he grew bolder, he would drag them down, and,
when he had upset them, feast on the meat inside. He had been
telling his troubles to the moon all night, and his note was not a
cheerful one; but even his coat stood bolt upright with terror, and
his tail dropped between his legs, at the hideous yell which suddenly
roused him from his lair amongst the rocks.
It was the war-whoop of the Blackfeet, and with it came the ring of a
dozen rifles which had been fired at random into the silent tents.
But they only roused the echoes. There came no answer, either in
little jets of flame, or loud report, or dying groan. All was still.
The tents were deserted, or the enemy was strangely patient in
reserving his fire.
And now from tent to tent flitted the quick figures, and as tent
after tent was entered and found empty the strange silence dissolved
and the harsh voices of the warriors shouting to each other gave life
and animation to the scene. Here a brave was dragging out a pile of
rugs from a deserted tent, there another cut down the scalps from his
enemy's tent-pole, or in rare cases laid hands on a rifle or tomahawk
which its owner had not had time to take with him in his flight. In
the midst of the camp stood one tent larger than all the rest, whiter
than all, and richer in that costly trimming which can only be shorn
from dead men's heads. Its sides were painted with demons and good
spirits, its flap was closed, and a kind of ensign marked it as the
tent of the tribal chief.
With a revolver in his hand which one of the Blackfeet had lent him,
Dick Wharton approached this tent. Here, if anywhere, he would meet
with resistance.
Kheelounha (the grizzly), greatest of all the Crow chieftains, was as
brave a man as ever stepped. Whatever had scared away his comrades,
he might well have returned, and be lying there behind the closed
entrance of his own lodge, prepared to die as he had lived, steel in
hand, and the warm blood of his enemies flowing round him in streams.
Dick Wharton listened with straining ear and caught breath, but no
rustle of blankets, no breath, however faint, betrayed the presence
of a living being. Well! a sudden dash is safer than a deliberate
entry, thought Dick, and with a jerk he flung aside the skin-curtain
and darted into the gloomy interior.
Quick as light a sinewy figure was upon him, its iron fingers fixed
like claws of steel into his throat, and before his finger could
touch the trigger of his beloved six-shooter a dexterous back-heel
sent him crashing upon his back. As he fell the revolver flew from
his grip, he saw the ugly steel flash above his head, while one hand
pinned his throat, gagging and choking the life out of him. For a
moment his eyes swam, and then a voice somewhere above, seemed to
say, 'Dick.'
The old trapper was partially stunned by his fall, and as the word
reached his ear the thought that he was already dead flashed through
his mind, and this was Snap's first greeting on that further shore.
But the hand on his throat had relaxed, and was shaking him now to
rouse him, and, looking up half dazed, Dick Wharton saw, not Snap in
the spirit, but the strong, wiry figure of the lad he loved.
'So you ain't Kheelounha, Snap! and I ain't a gone coon yet?'
remarked Wharton; 'and my har is on still. But, sonny, how in
thunder did you git here alive?'
'I'll tell you that by-and-by, old man,' laughed Snap, shaking him
warmly by the hand, 'but why the deuce didn't you say who you were
just now?'
'Wal!' replied Wharton, 'I dessay as I had oughter have sent in my
paste-board first to know if you was at home, but you see me and them
Blackfeet thought as the hull family had left for the season.'
'Oh, you've got the Blackfeet with you, have you?' said Snap, 'and
all this time I've been skulking like a rat in a corner, shaking when
I heard their infernal war-whoop, and only wondering if I could kill
one or two before they whipped off my own scalp.'
'Wal, my boy,' retorted Dick, 'I guess you'd have made it awkward for
some of 'em. It ain't a help to conversation to have them claws of
yourn round a fellow's windpipe.'
'And now, where are the others, Dick?' said Snap.
'All outside somewhere,' replied Wharton; 'you'll like enough find
Towzer seeing what he can find to eat. He hasn't got over his
appetite since we came back to earth.'
I must ask my readers to let me skip the meeting between the three
boys. The truth is, it isn't an easy thing to describe. To people
who know nothing of Englishmen it would appear a very cold and
heartless proceeding. The Redskin, perhaps, understands it better
than other Europeans do. When he himself comes back from his very
longest travels and meets the wife whom he has not seen for a year he
never dreams of rushing into her arms, he doesn't even raise his hat
or shake hands, but he just sits down at some distance from the
family party and pretends not to know who they are. His relations
imitate his manner, and when an hour or so has passed and they have
got fairly used to each other's appearance he quietly mixes amongst
the tribe without greeting or comment, and life goes on as usual.
A Russian would, of course, have wrapped his arms round Snap's neck,
kissed him on both cheeks time after time, would very likely have
done a little cry down the back of his neck, and then consoled
himself with neat vodka and let off steam in cigarette-smoke. The
boys simply said, 'Hulloh, Snap, old fellow!' and gripped his hand as
if they wanted to hurt it; were very anxious to get him something to
eat or drink or sit down upon, and very much ashamed of the colour
which came into their cheeks, and couldn't for the life of them
understand why the tops of the bull-pines had such a blurred and
misty appearance at this time of day.
When the tents had all been ransacked and sentries and outposts
stationed by the careful Blackfeet, determined not to be surprised in
their turn, Dick Wharton re-lit one of the fires and warmed up the
savoury mess of deer's-meat which it contained. That unfortunate
coyote had missed his opportunity.
When they had somewhat appeased their appetites Frank turned to Snap.
'Now, old chap, if you don't mind, explain all this mystery to us.
The last thing we know is that you dropped out of the skies and gave
your life for ours. We aren't likely to forget that,' said Frank.
'You bet!' remarked Wharton with an emphasis which made Towzer drop
the bone he was picking into the ashes.
'Oh, that's all skittles,' replied Snap disingenuously.
'I expect I must just have slipped off that ring somehow. You know I
never was much good on a trapeze or anything of that sort at school.'
No one contradicted him. It wasn't necessary. Even the eloquence of
an Irish Queen's Counsel could not induce boys to disbelieve their
eyes.
'You remember,' he continued, 'what a fog there was when I tumbled
out. I had just said, I remember, that I could make out the tops of
the teepees through it. Well, so I ought to have done. We were
quite close over the top of them, and when I fell, as luck would have
it, I came bang down on to the side of one of them, bounced off again
like a new ball from the wall of a racquet-court, and lay, I suppose,
stunned, for some time on the grass. When I came to I was a little
muddled, and what puzzled me more than anything when I began to
understand things at all was that I was free, no thongs on my limbs,
and not an Indian in sight. I tried my limbs one after another, in a
deadly fright lest I should be unable to lift one of them, but they
seemed all right, or at least I could use them. When I got up I
felt, of course, an ache in every muscle, but nothing was broken,
and, although even now I would rather sit on an air-cushion than on a
pine-log, I really hurt myself very little by my fall; of course, if
it had not been for the side of that friendly teepee, I should have
been jam by this time.'
'Well, but, Snap, what about the Indians?' exclaimed Frank.
'As for them,' said his friend, 'I could not understand at first,
and, although it seemed very unreasonable, kept suspecting a trap for
some time. Of course, what really happened was this. When we heard
the shouting of the warriors as the balloon bore down upon their
camp, it was not a gathering cry which we heard, but the sound of a
panic. They saw, not the balloon with their four enemies in it just
going to drop into their hands, but they saw, or thought that they
saw, the great white spirit of the Lone Mountain, incensed by their
insolence in approaching too near to his throne, swooping down
through the mists of evening like an eagle-owl upon his prey,
and--well, they bolted!'
'That's it, Snap! that's it, sonny! You've read 'em like a book,'
ejaculated Wharton. 'Do you remember as I said I couldn't understand
them Injuns making such a tarnation row when they saw us a-coming?'
'I do,' replied Snap, 'and you were right.'
'I was, sonny, and I am going to be right this time, too, when I tell
you that Bull Pine Park is as good property now for the firm as if it
were fenced and railed in, with a regiment of Nor'-West police
picketed in every corner of it. Them Injuns--them confounded
Crows--will never put their hoofs inside our reserve again, you bet!'
and the old cowboy lay back and laughed long and low as he thought of
his enemies and the scare they had had.
'Frank,' he said after a while, 'you couldn't draw a balloon, could
you? Just a rough outline, you know--a sort of a bubble with a boat
at the bottom?'
'Yes, Dick, how will that do?' replied Frank, scratching out the
required figure in the ashes at his feet.
'That's the ticket; leastways, if no one has any objection, that's
the brand of the firm. What do you say, Snap? It ain't easy to get
a new brand nowadays, and that will remind us of how we got our
range,' said Dick.
'So be it, Dick,' replied he; 'but we must not forget about these
papers,' and, so saying, he drew from the inside of his shirt the
papers which had been taken by him from the German aeronaut's box A.
'So you stuck to them all the time, did you, Snap?' asked Towzer; 'do
you think there is anything in it?'
'Anything in what,' asked Snap; 'in the papers?'
'No, I mean is it worth while bothering about what the old man asks?
Don't you think he was mad?'
'Mad or sane,' was Snap's answer, 'I am going to do what he asks us.
It may not be a paying speculation to go over to Europe to carry out
his bequest on the chance of what we shall get out of his "few little
houses at Potsdam" and our share of the patents, but it is a plain
duty to the man whose death was, under Providence, the means of
saving all our lives.'
'Snap is right,' assented Wharton, 'it don't do to go back on a pard
as is dead.'
And so, on consideration, thought they all, and by the time the
Indian camp had been thoroughly ransacked, and the victorious and
heavily laden Blackfeet were ready to move, our friends had
unanimously resolved to make their way back to Rosebud before the
snows caught them and detained them for the winter.
It was a very near race, that race between the snow-king and
Wharton's little party; but Wharton won, and until his return was
explained met with unlimited chaff for what his companions called his
want of 'sand.' However, his story put a new aspect on the matter,
and all agreed heartily with the old foreman that if he had married a
Blackfoot squaw and paid for the range in 'greenbacks' he would not
have been more secure of enjoying quiet possession of Bull Pine Park
than he was now.
Nares had left, so that they could get no help from him; but the
cowboy is a generous and trustful fellow (it's not very safe to take
him in, by the way, unless you are an unusually quick revolver-shot),
and amongst the 'boys' at the ranche a purse was soon made up to take
one of the lads to Berlin to execute the old professor's wishes.
Then arose a difficulty: who was to go? Clearly Snap ought to have
gone, but he would not. Towzer was ready enough to go--he did not
see much fun in getting up at dawn to feed frozen-out cattle--but
unluckily a want of confidence in Master Towzer's capacity was felt,
and, as old Dick said:
'No, my lad, you had a lot better stay here. If anyone's hide wants
hardening it's yourn. Another six months here will do you no harm.'
'Another six months, Dick!' grumbled the lad, 'why, as far as we can
see I am likely to grow up with the country as you call it.'
'No, you aren't, sonny,' replied Dick sadly; 'I'm afeard as that old
German's inventions may steer a balloon after all, but they'll spoil
three likely cowboys.'
'Not _three_ anyway, Dick,' said Snap's voice at his side; 'there is
one would rather be a cowboy here than a duke over there.'
Finally it was arranged that Frank should go.
'He is as level-headed as a Yankee lawyer,' said Dick, 'and, besides,
his arm isn't all right yet. I'm thinking the frost got into it a
bit.'
So Frank went, and the boys saw him off, papers and all, and stood
for nearly a quarter of an hour looking along those bright metals
which led so straight towards the east, the iron link which binds the
old world to the new.