The dripping body of the huge trapper when he stepped at last upon the
shore made Reuben once more aware of the immense size and strength of
the man. As he recalled the contest between Kit Carson and the giant
before him, and was reminded of the slight, almost delicate form of the
scout, he was amazed at the courage of the latter in accepting the
challenge of the braggart.
At present, however, there did not appear to be anything to fear from
Rat, and it was manifest that his thoughts were mostly concerned with
his own condition. The cold water perhaps had cooled any heated
tendencies he may have had. At all events, he was subdued in his manner
and even tried to laugh at the sight he declared he must present.
“I’ll help you, lad,” said Rat, at the same time stooping and assuming
a part of the burden. “You’re going back to camp now, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go along with you.”
Reuben glanced in fresh surprise at the man, for the camp of the
trappers, and especially Kit Carson, he was positive Rat had no real
desire to see. Indeed, he wondered at the temerity of the man in daring
to return, knowing as he did the feeling against him when he had fled
from the place.
“I suppose you’ve got the same trappers as ever, haven’t you, Reuben?”
inquired Rat.
“Yes,” replied Reuben in a low voice.
“Kit Carson still at the head?”
“Yes.”
“He’s a great little Kit. He was too quick for me,” said Rat, striving
to laugh as he spoke.
“He always is,” suggested Reuben.
“That don’t mean that he always will be, does it?”
“I think it does.”
“He certainly has a good friend in you, Reuben. He makes every one bow
down to him.”
“If they do, it’s not because he makes them, but because they want to.”
“It’s all the same, it’s all the same.”
Silence followed, and steadily Reuben led the way back to the place
where he had left his comrades. Occasionally he glanced keenly at his
companion, but he was unable to discover any signs of fear or even of
shame. Apparently Rat was returning to the trappers as a matter of
course and expecting that he would be received in the same spirit with
which he came. And yet in spite of his manner Reuben was keenly
suspicious of the huge boaster. The very fact that he had suffered at
the hands of the boyish scout doubtless had aroused a feeling of
resentment which could not be quieted until Rat had obtained
satisfaction.
To the surprise of Reuben, however, when they entered the camp Rat was
greeted without any protest, though it could not be said that there was
manifest any feeling of special pleasure at his return. Apparently
accepting the condition as one which he had expected, Rat soon made
himself at home in response to the quiet invitation of Kit Carson. It
was plain, however, within a few days that the prejudices of the
trappers were still keen. Indeed there was not one who was not
suspicious of him, though there was none as yet who had shown any
unfriendly attitude.
Why had the man come back to camp? What had he expected? If he had
returned to take vengeance upon Kit Carson, why did he postpone his
attack? These questions and others like them were frequently in the
mind of Reuben, but when several days had elapsed and no answer had
been found, he concluded that the boaster had been taught a much-needed
lesson and that now he was cured of his overbearing ways.
On the fourth day after his arrival Rat suggested to Reuben that they
should visit their traps together. Unwilling though he was, Reuben
nevertheless quietly assented, and not long afterward the two men set
forth on their rounds.
The season had been wonderfully successful. Never in their experience
had so many skins been secured as the trappers had taken within the
preceding few weeks. The noisy Rat was loud in his declaration that Kit
Carson knew better than any one the streams where the beaver lived.
Whether his statement was true or not, beaver, otter, mink, and other
animals were caught in great numbers, and many of the skins, as has
been said, had been cached.
It was when Reuben and his companion had halted in the middle of the
day for luncheon that Rat quietly said to the lad: “Where have you made
your caches this time?”
Reuben laughed as he replied: “There’s one within ten feet of you now.”
“What!” exclaimed Rat, glancing keenly about him as he spoke.
“That’s right,” replied Reuben, “there’s one within ten feet of you. I
don’t know what Kit Carson would say, but I’m so sure you can’t find it
that I would almost be willing to say you can have half the skins there
if you dig out the place.”
“That’s all very well,” replied Rat; “of course I can’t find it.” At
the same time he glanced all about him, and if Reuben had been more
experienced he would have discovered that the trapper was protesting
too much. Again and again he begged of Reuben to show him the place
where the skins were concealed, declaring that he was unable to
discover any trace that had been left. Reuben, however, refused to
disclose the location of the cache, and when at last they proceeded on
their rounds he was convinced that Rat had no suspicion as to its exact
location.
“I’m wondering,” suggested Rat as they moved down the stream, “if Kit
Carson would have any objection to letting me bring some of my furs and
putting them in the cache along with his.”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
“I will just as soon as I go back to the camp,” declared Rat.
True to his word, that very evening the huge boaster, approaching the
scout, said: “Kit, have you any objection to letting me cache some of
my furs along with yours?”
For a moment the scout glanced keenly at the face of the inquirer
before he spoke: “How many furs have you got?” he inquired at last.
“Not very many just yet. I expect to have more, for I’ve never seen the
catch as good as it is now.”
“You come and talk to me when you get more and we’ll see what can be
done,” said Kit Carson quietly at last.
Slight attention was paid to the conversation, and even Reuben had
almost forgotten it, as well as his own talk the preceding day with Rat
concerning the location of the cache near the stream on the bank of
which they were trapping. These things were brought strongly back to
his recollection, however, when on the following morning it was
discovered that the black horse was gone and that two other horses also
had disappeared. Nor was this all that the camp had lost, for Rat also
was missing. When the men assembled for breakfast, the discovery of the
loss of the black horse and the report also that two other animals were
gone caused them to declare that Rat had not fled from the place
without taking more than the horses. Just what he wanted of three
horses was not plain to the trappers.
Suddenly, however, Reuben called Kit Carson to one side and said to
him: “Did Rat ask you to let him cache some of his furs?”
“Yes,” replied the scout, looking keenly into the face of his friend as
he spoke.
“Well, he wanted me the other day, when we were trapping together, to
show him where our cache was. I told him there was one within ten feet
of the place where he was standing and that if he could find it he
might have half the skins. You don’t suppose that he’s found the place
and taken those horses to carry off some of the skins, do you?”
For a moment Kit Carson was silent. Although he was aware that Reuben
was keenly mortified by the confession he had made, he did not speak
any word of reproach. Not many minutes had elapsed, however, before Kit
Carson, selecting two of the swiftest ponies in the camp, said to
Reuben: “Do you want to go with me?”
“Yes. Where are you going?”
“I’m glad you put your answers in that way,” replied Kit Carson with a
smile. “I’m glad you’re going, and you’ll soon find out where I’m
going. First of all, take me to the place where you told Rat there was
one of our caches.”
Both trappers carried their rifles and mounting the swiftest ponies,
they speedily departed from the camp. Reuben easily led the way toward
the place where he and Rat had stopped for their noontime meal and
where also he had foolishly told the braggart that one of the caches
was not far away.
Reuben was not surprised when an hour later, after they had arrived at
the place they were seeking, he discovered that the hiding-place had
been opened and that many furs had been removed. It was plain, too,
from the marks left by the feet of the horses nearby, as to what
disposition had been made of the stolen furs. The anger of Reuben was
intense, but to his noisy protests no response was made by Kit Carson,
whose quiet manner was still unchanged.
“There’s nothing for us to do, lad,” suggested the scout, “except to go
after the rascal and get our skins.”
Already convinced that this was the purpose of the scout in coming,
Reuben made no response except to quicken the speed at which his horse
was moving and do his utmost to follow the scout when they set forth on
their journey.
They already had taken the precaution of providing supplies sufficient
for two days, although Kit Carson was depending upon game to provide
much of their food.
Occasionally the scout paused to examine the ground and try to discover
the imprints left by the feet of Rat’s horses. Frequently the trail was
almost lost, but Kit Carson, after circling the spot and carefully
examining the ground, every time succeeded in discovering the signs for
which he was searching, and then with increased speed the pursuit was
renewed.
Reuben was thinking of what would occur if the scout should overtake
the burly boaster. The quiet determination expressed in Kit’s face
plainly indicated what was in his mind. And the thief would be
overtaken soon, Reuben was convinced, because when Rat had fled,
although he had taken Black Jack, swiftest of all the ponies in the
camp, the speed at which he was fleeing could not be greater than the
pace of the horses which were following him and carrying the stolen
furs on their backs.