THE REDS.
The first proceeding of old Robsart was to _cache_—that is bury—his
peltries so that they would be safe from molestation from Indians and
meddlers, and he could return in his own good time and remove them.
Then he made the round of his traps, and sprung them all, carefully
concealing them where they, too, could be found when he should require
them, after which he was ready to take up the work.
Having failed entirely in discovering any traces of the means by which
Little Rifle had disappeared, the trapper was now disposed to believe
that the Blackfeet had had something to do with it, and that his search
must be made partly among them.
“You know she is purty cute,” he added, “but the smartest man in these
parts is likely to run his head in trouble any time, and she may have
done it afore she knowed. I s’pose you want to jine me in this
excursion?”
Harry, as a matter of course, declared that he did, and the trapper
added:
“Wal, we’ll work up toward the fort, for you’ll have to see the old
gentleman, so that if you’re gone a month or two, he’ll know where you
ar’, and won’t blame me for keepin’ away so long.”
This was all prudent, and the lad had no wish to make any objection to
the arrangement. They shouldered their rifles, and turning their faces
toward the Cascade Range, started on what was destined to prove the most
memorable venture of their lives.
The old hunter having announced his theory of Little Rifle’s
disappearance, it behooved them both to maintain as sharp a scrutiny as
possible upon the different parties of Blackfeet that were in the
neighborhood.
“I can tell you,” he muttered, with a compressing of the lips that
attested his earnestness, “if the varmints have got the gal, they’ve got
to keep a mighty close watch on her or she’ll give ’em the slip. Let her
have a few hundred yards the start, and old Maquesa himself couldn’t
catch her. She can run like an antelope, and knows how to dodge and
double on herself and hide her own trail, so that a bloodhound would
give up the hunt in disgust, and go to watchin’ sheep for the rest of
his life.”
“But in this case, it seems to me she would have taken every pains to
make her footprints visible, knowing that we would be on the hunt for
her.”
“How could she know that?” asked the old man, in return; “it ain’t
likely that she got into trouble till she war a good ways off from camp,
and it wouldn’t be till then that she would think of such a thing.
Yonder is a purty high hill, and we’ll climb up to the top of that, and
take a look around.”
The elevation alluded to was considerably out of their way, lying more
to the southward; but, as there was a prospect that it might be of some
use to them, they made all haste toward it.
It was very much of the nature of the ridge where Little Rifle and Harry
had made their morning meal on the previous day, except that it was
higher, and consequently the view was much more extensive.
When at last they reached the top, the boy was charmed with the scenery
spread out before him. It was indeed one of the finest views with which
he had been favored since coming to the North-west.
Looking to the east, he saw hundreds of square miles of forest, prairie,
ravines, gorges and mountain-peaks spread out before him, crossed in
every direction by rivers, creeks, torrents, cañons and waterfalls,
while the deep emerald tinge of the vegetation, as seen in the spring
and early summer, gave a soft splendor to the whole scene that never
could have been equaled at any other season of the year.
This view was much the same to the north and south, while in the west it
was backed up by that vast snowy range, whose peaks, in many places,
were hid from sight among the very clouds.
The same alternation of forest, ravine and prairie encountered the eye
in this view, and the soft, mellow haze that enfolded the distant
Cascade Range, gave the landscape a peculiarly American appearance, such
as rarely meets the eye of the traveler in other parts of the world.
The majestic loneliness of the vast solitude was deepened and made more
impressive by the faint view of Fort Abercrombie in the distance. It was
many miles away, standing in a small elevated clearing. The stockades by
which it was surrounded, and the compact log building itself, resembled
some tiny toy, as they were revealed to the eye.
From a tall flag-staff the Stars and Stripes floated in the breeze, and
the naked eye was just able to detect the evolutions of the banner as it
folded in and out, stretching for an instant to full length, and then
flapping about the staff again.
It was a sight to kindle the heart of the patriot, as he looked upon
this most beautiful emblem of his country floating to the breeze in this
far-away wilderness, proclaiming to all the protection they could find
beneath its ægis, and that while they trod this vast domain, it could be
with the consciousness that they were still upon the soil of their own
dear native land, although perhaps thousands of miles from the spot of
their birth.
The feeling of desolation and loneliness which came upon one when he
looked for the first time upon this immense landscape of silence was
made still greater by the faint signs of the presence of human beings
that were here and there discernible. The very insignificance and
paucity of their number, as compared with the enormous extent of
territory, was what made the contrast the more impressive.
Several miles to the south, a thin blue column of smoke indicated the
camp-fire of some party; further to the north, a similar sign showed
where another company were gathered, and between and around these two
little halting-places for human beings, stretched mile after mile and
league after league of unbroken wilderness, in which crouched the bloody
minded Blackfoot and the savage bear.
Of some such a nature as this were the emotions of Harry Northend, as he
stood on the elevation and permitted his eyes to wander off in the
direction of the great Cascade Range. Young, romantic and imaginative,
the grand scene produced a powerful impression upon him, and he stood
for several minutes, forgetful of the grief and anxiety of heart that
had been his when he made his way to this point. His soul was filled
with solemnity and awe, such as come over it in the presence of the
Infinite, and at that moment he felt a pride in the thought that this
was a portion of his country, and a devout thankfulness that God had
thus far protected him from the dangers and perils that threaten all who
venture into these wilds.
But if the old mountaineer possessed any poetry in his nature, he had
too much on his mind to give any heed to it at present. Perhaps his
familiarity with the sublime scenery of the grandest portion of our
continent had dulled the edge of his appreciation, or it may be that his
mind was so intent on discovering something tangible by which to
continue his hunt for Little Rifle, that he had no room for any other
thought but be that as it may, his feelings were very different from
those of the lad beside him, as with the field glass in his hand, he
carefully roved over the immense expanse of vision, on the look-out for
some sign that might tell him something of the loved and lost one.
It was successively turned toward the two camp fires which we have
mentioned, but the survey of neither was very satisfactory. He learned
nothing that could afford him any grounds for hope, and he withdrew his
attention from them, and pointed the instrument to a broad stream of
water that flowed westward and southward, until it was hid among the
cañons of the Snowy Range, from which it finally made its way, and
continued onward toward the great Pacific.
On every foot of all that sinuous line of the distant water-course had
Ruff tramped and trapped; over all these hills had he ranged in his
forty years of hill and hunting-life, and, after Little Rifle came to
his lodge, often had the blithe, beautiful child been his companion in
these deeply-enjoyed wanderings.
Carefully his eye roved along the banks of this stream, wherever they
were visible, while the broad silver current did not escape his survey.
Harry, who had recovered in a degree from the awe that had accompanied
his first view, now watched the countenance and actions of the old
trapper. He remarked his slow, steady shifting of the glass from point
to point, until, as his view ranged along the river for a time, it
suddenly paused, and he gave a slight start.
The lad took this as an indication that his friend had discovered
something, at last, and he was right in his supposition.
Harry carefully avoided speaking, while he saw the trapper thus engaged,
knowing that he would make known, in his own good time, whatever
discovery might reward his search.
After awhile he handed the glass to the lad, and, pointing toward the
point at which he had been directing it, said:
“Take a squint out that way and tell me whether you can’t see nothin’,
or whether you can’t see any thing.”
Harry gladly did as requested, and, as soon as he had the instrument
directed toward the proper point, he saw a party of half a dozen
Indians, who appeared to have just effected a landing, as a couple of
canoes could be seen lying against the bank. Their motions indicated
that they had halted to kindle a fire, most probably for the purpose of
preparing a meal.
After watching them a few minutes, the boy stated this to the trapper,
who said:
“That’s the idee; you’re right; them canoes show that the varmints are
on the travel. Most likely they’ve come from t’other side the mountains
and are going back ag’in.”
“Perhaps they’re the same ones whose lodges I saw the other day, and
from whom I had such a narrow escape.”
“Like enough, and it’s my opine that they’ve had something to do with
the taking off of little pet.”
Harry started and stared at the hunter in amazement.
“Can it be possible? She is then a prisoner in their lands?”
“Mind I didn’t say _that_,” replied Old Ruff, in his cautious fashion,
“but there be some things which I can’t tell you just now that make me
think them varmints are mixed up in this business, some way or other,
and it’ll pay to take a look around thar camp, even if we don’t l’arn
nothin’.”
And with characteristic promptness, when he had fully settled in his
mind upon the proper course to pursue, old Robsart started off at a
rapid walk in the direction of the camp of hostile Blackfeet,
determined, no matter at what risk, to learn whether there was any thing
to be picked up among these savage foes.