BETWEEN TWO FIRES.
Two hours from the time of starting, Old Ruff and Harry Northend were
within a hundred yards of the Blackfoot camp.
Fortunately for them, they halted in the midst of a dense growth of
pines, where they had plenty of opportunity to maneuver and keep
themselves invisible.
They were so close to the camp that the voices of the red-skins could be
heard, and Harry even caught the smell of burning meat, proving that, as
the trapper had said, they had come ashore for the purpose of preparing
their meal. Such being the case, they were not likely to remain in camp
for a very long time.
Robsart had brought the boy closer to this congregation of red-skins
than was prudent, and he expressed regret at doing so, but the young
fellow was so brave and eager that it was hard to refuse him such a
request. But he was determined that he should not advance another step.
“Stay right here where you are,” he added, in an impressive whisper,
“and keep mighty shady.”
It may be supposed that the lad scarcely needed these instructions, as
his own sense would have taught him their importance.
Although he felt equal to the task of reconnoitering the camp himself,
yet he dare not propose such a wild scheme to the old hunter, whose
especial province it was to attend to such perilous enterprises himself.
Leaving the latter to carry out the dangerous reconnoissance upon which
he had started, we must take the space to describe the strange adventure
that befell the lad, who, it would seem, was placed in much the lesser
peril.
His situation was interesting and exciting from its proximity to camp,
as he could hear the jingle and mumble and guttural hum of the
Blackfeet, as they gathered around the fire, eating and smoking in the
very _abandon_ of enjoyment.
“I don’t think there is much chance of Little Rifle being there,” mused
Harry, when he found himself alone. “If she were among them we would
have seen something of her with the telescope, but Old Ruff sees a
chance or he wouldn’t have undertaken it.”
It was comparatively an easy matter for Harry to content himself for a
short time, lying down among the bushes, listening to the noise of the
red-skins; but, when a half-hour had passed, and the noise decreased,
and he saw nothing of old Robsart, he began to feel impatient. He could
not understand why it was that the old hunter should remain away so
long, when he seemed to accomplish nothing thereby. It seemed to him
that the red-skins had all gone asleep or taken their departure, and he
and his friend were wasting valuable time.
But the half-hour was doubled and trebled, and then the lad made the
exceedingly imprudent resolution to steal a little ways toward the
camp—just far enough to get the slightest glimpse, and find out for
himself the meaning of this strange silence and delay. He deemed it
necessary only to crawl forward a short distance, confident that he
could detect the presence of danger in time to withdraw, if indeed there
was any possibility of encountering any such thing.
It was with some twitchings and misgivings that Harry began creeping
forward, knowing that it was in direct violation of the commands of the
old hunter, who would not be apt to look lightly upon such an offense
should he discover it.
This caused him to hesitate a few minutes, but hearing and seeing
nothing more, he began stealing forward on his hands and knees,
advancing inch by inch, frequently pausing and listening, and peering
round in the undergrowth, so as to guard against any danger stealing
upon him from any direction.
Two or three times he was on the eve of retreating, and he looked
furtively back over the course he had come—but the continued silence,
and his impatience prevented, and he pressed on, until he judged that he
had passed fully one-half the distance that intervened between him and
his starting-point.
Thus far he had carried his rifle with him, and it had proved no little
impediment, besides incurring the constant danger of being discharged
from the hammer catching in some of the bushes and undergrowth.
The lad had now reached a point perilously near the Blackfoot camp, and
although he could no longer hear any sounds of the savages, he felt that
a dozen feet further must reveal them to him, and in all probability
solve the question as to the delay of Robsart.
“I will lay my gun down,” he reflected, “so that I can crawl a few steps
further, in perfect quiet, and with that much less risk of being
discovered.”
Harry was not the simpleton to separate himself voluntarily from his
weapon, when he believed there was the remotest possibility of his
needing it, nor, were the circumstances all in his favor, would he leave
it beyond his reach.
But, it will be remembered that it was a heavy gun, and that it
seriously interfered with his progress; so he laid it carefully down,
pointing the muzzle a little to the right, so that, in case of accident,
no harm could come to him.
Satisfied, then, that he had done no imprudent thing, he resumed his
progress upon his hands and knees, moving slowly, cautiously and
stealthily, eyes and ears on the alert for the slightest indication of
danger.
All was still—nothing being heard but the soft flow of the river, and
softly drawing the undergrowth aside, he crept onward, until he was
fully a dozen feet from where his gun lay.
Still he was unable to catch the coveted glimpse of the camp, and he
paused, thinking that there was already too great a distance between him
and his weapon, and resolved to return and bring it back and place it
nearer to him.
But the path which he had made in his panther-like progress was clear
and open, and he could dart backward in an instant and seize it; and so,
hesitating but a few seconds, he resumed his advance, with the
determination that, at the most, he should not go more than a yard
further—just enough to pass through an unusually matted mass of
vegetation, that feebly barred in his progress.
One step further, and both hands sunk into a cavity in the ground, a
couple of feet in depth—so suddenly and unexpectedly that he pitched
head-foremost, making a terrible breaking and threshing of the
shrubbery.
Harry was not hurt in the least, but he was almost paralyzed with
terror; for he was certain that the whole camp must be alarmed, and the
Blackfeet would be swarming around his head before he could rise or make
any attempt to retreat.
He did not seek to do so, but lay still, listening with a throbbing
heart, and conjuring all manner of dreadful consequences that were sure
to follow this mishap upon his part. As a matter of course he lamented
his rashness, with the most bitter feelings, but it was all useless now,
and he lay still, with a grim resolve to take the punishment
unflinchingly.
A few seconds only had passed, when he heard footsteps, but to his
surprise, instead of being in front, they were in the rear. Some one was
approaching from that direction!
Like a flash he thought of his gun, and of the supremely silly thing he
had done in placing it beyond his reach. As he was about to scramble
forth in an attempt to reach it before his enemy, it occurred to him
that it might be Old Ruff, who was searching for him. He would have
preferred almost to have seen a Blackfoot, rather than be caught in this
dilemma by the trapper, for the latter, discovering his foolhardiness
this early in the business, would be certain to lose all patience with
him, and send him on to the fort, while he continued the hunt alone.
The poor lad was in a sad predicament, not daring to move from where he
was, in either direction; for to retreat would only bring him face to
face with the Blackfoot, if such he were, and to advance would be to
throw himself into the hands of the whole party.
“And if he catches me here,” he reflected, in the intensity of his
chagrin, “he will find me without any weapon except the knife and
telescope,” and he added, with something of his natural drollery, “there
is no need of my looking through the glass to bring the danger any
nearer, or to make it appear any bigger; for it is too near and too big
already.”
The extreme slowness of the party approaching him satisfied Harry that
it must be an Indian scout, who may have been on the look-out for just
such interlopers as he.
At the same time he thought the red-skin was making an unusual racket,
for such a proceeding. He could hear the motion of the feet—soft and
heavy—and the bending and breaking of the shrubbery beneath his passage,
as though he was taking no pains to hide his approach.
“What’s the use of it?” he reflected; “he knows he’s got a sure thing of
it.”
By this time he gave up all hope or fear of its being old Robsart, and
was certain that it was one of the dreaded Indians, who, knowing that
there was no escape for the lad, was toying and trifling with him, as a
cat toys with a mouse before devouring it.
In the intensity of his fear in this direction, Harry forgot all about
the camp in front, and had no time to wonder at the continued silence in
that direction, a circumstance which would have struck him as very
strange, under the circumstances.
The crackling and treading of the undergrowth continued, and the
suspense soon became greater than the actual coming of the danger itself
would be.
“As I don’t see any way out of the scrape,” he thought, “I may as well
end it one way or the other, and so I will meet it.”
He had a faint hope, too, that by stealing along on the ground, he might
secure his rifle in time to make a fight for his life.
Accordingly he started with the same care and caution that had marked
his approach to the camp.
A half-dozen feet were passed in this manner, and then he paused,
stupefied with wonder, amazement and absolute terror!
For of all the strange sights and experiences that he had encountered in
this country, of all that had been his during his past life, he never
had seen any thing that could compare with that which now greeted his
vision!