PRISONERS OF THE DACOTAHS
DICK knew the folly of resistance when he saw that, besides the two
warriors who held him down, there were half a dozen others nearby.
Roger, always impulsive and headstrong, was struggling desperately,
though without the slightest chance of breaking away from his captors.
Understanding what was taking place close by, Dick called out:
"Give up, Roger; it is foolish to fight against such odds. You will
only be hurt for your pains, and nothing gained. Leave it all to me!"
Not only did Roger hear these words, but his own good sense told him
the wisdom of yielding to overwhelming numbers. But it was always a
difficult thing for Roger to believe in the old saying to the effect
that "he who fights and runs away may live to fight another day."
After being disarmed the two boys were allowed to get upon their feet.
They discovered that their dusky captors undoubtedly belonged to
the same tribe as their treacherous guide, and, therefore, must be
Dacotahs. That guide was clutching Roger's gun as though he expected to
retain it as the price of his labors in thus entering the camp of the
strange "palefaces," and luring the two boys into the trap so cunningly
contrived.
Dick was far from downcast. It took considerable to make him feel as
though everything were dark around him. And, in order to cheer Roger
up, as well as to arouse his interest in planning an escape, the first
remark Dick made was in the line of an attempt to guess how it had all
been planned.
"Look, they are marking a smoke now," he told his companion, as several
of their captors struck flint and steel together, and with the spark
thus generated started a fire in a little pile of greenish-looking wood.
"That must be meant for a signal to some one who is away from here,"
Roger commented, on observing what was going on. "Dick, what does all
this mean? You are always good at hitting on the truth while I grope in
the dark. Why do you think these Indians want to make us prisoners?"
"It was a trap, you understand, Roger?"
"Oh! yes, that's as plain as can be," replied the other, readily
enough; "for they were all hiding up in these trees while we kept on
fishing so merrily, without dreaming that we were being watched every
minute of the time."
"And, Roger, the guide led us into the mess; now we can understand why
he was so eager to fetch us up here."
"Then you believe, do you, Dick, he planned this thing; that perhaps he
even entered our camp with such a game in his mind?"
"It begins to look that way, I am sorry to say," Dick replied.
"But can he be in the pay of that revengeful Frenchman, François
Lascelles?" demanded Roger, rather appalled by the thought.
"We will soon know, because, unless I am mistaken, that smoke they are
sending up yonder is meant to call him here. And it would not surprise
me very much, Roger, if that brave who has been eating at our campfire
for two days, crept out last night and told how he had been engaged to
take us to this stream to-day. That would account for the Indians being
concealed here."
The boys were without weapons, and could do nothing toward the making
of their escape; so they waited with what patience they could command
to see what was about to happen.
Shortly afterwards some one was seen approaching, at sight of whom
Roger gave utterance to an exclamation of disgust.
"Why, after all, it's that skunk, Andrew Waller!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, he must have found some way to get in with these Indians, and
they have been working for his interests," Dick suggested. "Perhaps
he has lied to them, and made them believe we are two very important
persons. He may take the trouble to explain the thing to us, thinking
it will add to his glory."
"I can see the look of satisfaction on his face from here," said Roger,
in a surly tone, as though it cut him to the quick to have the traitor
triumph over them in that way.
Waller soon arrived on the scene, and his first act was to look
insolently into the faces of the two boys.
"So, you fell to the bait, did you, boys? When I told you we would meet
again you didn't believe it would be so soon. And let me say that you
are going to be in a pretty pickle after this. These Indians will make
sure that you do not slip through their hands."
"What have you been telling them about us?" demanded Roger,
impetuously. "Some big lie I am sure, for it would be just like you."
The man frowned as though angry, and Dick feared he was about to strike
the bold boy a blow in the face, which would have precipitated a fight
in which Roger would have gone down to defeat. However, Waller managed
to keep his temper in control, and sneering again, went on to say:
"Oh! to make sure that you would be held a close prisoner, I merely
told them that you boys were the sons of the Big White Father away
off in the Land of the Rising Sun; and that if they held you safe
they could demand a great ransom in wampum, sticks-that-shoot-fire,
and everything that the heart of an Indian could wish. In other words
I have cooked your goose for you. You may be sure you will never be
allowed to go free."
He turned his back on them and commenced talking with one of the
Dacotahs, who, from the feathers in his black hair, seemed to be some
sort of sub-chief. Much of the conversation was carried on by gestures,
in which Waller seemed to be unusually expert.
Dick watched closely in the hope that he might be able to catch the
drift of what was passing between the two. That he and Roger were the
objects under consideration he had not the slightest doubt, for several
times one or the other pointed toward the spot where they stood.
"Can you make it out at all, Dick?" Roger asked.
"I am sorry to say it's more than I've been able to understand, Roger;
but I think he's telling the chief again how valuable we are as prizes.
And to think we have no way of proving to him that we are only ordinary
boys, without rich fathers to pay a big ransom. It is just the sort of
game we might have expected Andrew Waller to play."
The man who had been sent out of the camp of the explorers now
approached them again. He was rubbing his hands as though in great glee.
"Now, I shall not only have my pick of two good guns, but plenty
of ammunition for them, in spite of Captain Lewis. I am going to
say good-by to you here, for I have to meet M'sieu Lascelles at an
appointed rendezvous. Oh! he will be very much pleased when he learns
how the Dacotahs prize the boys he hates so bitterly, and mean to carry
them off to their villages, far to the north, there to keep them until
the big ransom arrives. It tickles me to know how soon my debt to you
has been so nicely cancelled."
Roger gritted his teeth, but he managed to keep from saying anything.
"Just as you told us when you were leaving camp, we may meet again,
Andrew Waller," Dick said, with an unmistakable meaning in his voice.
"Oh! that is possible," the other jauntily added, purposely
misunderstanding what the boy meant; "for it may be M'sieu Lascelles,
he would wish to see for himself that you are comfortable, so for that
reason we might journey into the Dacotah country ourselves."
With that thrust he waved his hand to them, and, turning, walked
away as he had come. None of the Indians paid the least heed to his
movements; but Roger almost choked in his indignation.
"Just to think, Dick," he muttered in a quivering voice, "the beast
is carrying my dear old gun which he took from our red guide, on his
shoulder. How much I will miss it, because, ever since I've been able
to look along the sights of a rifle, that gun has been my companion day
and night."
"We shall hope that in some way or other you will see it again," Dick
told him. "Even if not, there are others just as sure shooters at the
camp. The one he used to own, and which they refused to let him carry
off, is even a better-made weapon than yours."
"Yes, but that gun has associations away above its value in money,"
said Roger, heaving a sigh; "and at the best the chances of my ever
handling it again are three against one."
"Well, we must try to think of other things now," Dick told him.
"You mean about escaping from our captors, don't you, Dick? What if we
can convince them that Waller is a man with a double tongue, and that
what he told them about our being the sons of the Great White Father at
Washington is only a package of lies?"
"Of course we can try, but I'm afraid it will be useless, because the
Indians want to believe that wonderful story. See how all of them are
examining my gun now. I suppose every one of them is picturing himself
as owning just such a marvelous weapon that 'spits out fire,' and kills
the game just as thunder and lightning do in the storm."
"What do you think they expect to do with us now?" asked Roger.
"They will not want to stay here much longer," affirmed Dick, "because
they are afraid of the 'palefaces with their thunder sticks.'
Consequently, they will start off toward their village, which we
understand lies several days' journey away from here toward the
northwest."
"But, when we fail to come back to-day, Captain Lewis is bound to
send some of his best trackers up here to learn what happened to us.
And, Dick, surely they will try to follow our captors, and effect our
rescue."
"Listen, Roger. We must not leave it all to them. These cunning red men
know how to cover a trail so that the keenest eye cannot find a trace.
Depend on it, they will leave no stone unturned to hide the tracks we
make. And then, besides, do we not know that the summer is already
beginning to wane?"
"Yes, yes, all that is only too true, Dick. Captain Lewis understands
there is no time to spare, with those terrible mountains yet to be
scaled, and also black deserts to cross, and all before snow flies. I
am much afraid he will decide that the success of the whole undertaking
would be put in peril should he detach any of his men to engage in a
wild goose hunt for us."
"We two have before this been in positions of peril," said Dick,
firmly, with a flash in his eyes that aroused new hope in the breast
of his chum; "and always, in times that are past, have we succeeded in
saving ourselves. So let us keep up our spirits and watch constantly
for a chance to give these Indians the slip."
"If we should find the opportunity," said Roger, immediately, "I hope
we manage to get hold of your gun, and our hatchets and knives. To lose
my good shooting-iron is bad enough, but that knife, you know, has
served me since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Promise me you will
do your level best to save our side-arms if we find a way to escape,
Dick!"
To this entreaty Dick assented. Indeed, he knew well enough that it was
their only policy to go away armed rather than in a helpless condition.
Shortly afterwards they were given to understand, through grunts and
gestures, that the march was about to be taken up. With several Indians
stalking along in single file ahead, and others bringing up the rear
the two boys had to turn their backs upon the "Big Muddy" and start
upon the long journey into the Northwest, at the end of which lay the
Dacotah village.