FRIENDS AND ENEMIES.
Chap began his independent operations by poling The Rolling Stone to
some distance from the shore. Then dropping the anchor and letting out
the rope, he pushed his boat out as long as his pole would touch bottom.
There was not much current, but the wind blew the boat inland, so that
Chap found that he would have to be continually pushing her out if he
wished to keep her in water deep enough for fishing.
He was afraid to go out where he could not touch bottom with his pole,
for the wind was strong, and he did not know what would happen if he
tried to sail her.
So, at last, he gave up fishing and poled back to shore. Putting away
his fishing tackle, he began to try to comfort the little bears, who
were whining and whimpering and tumbling over each other, showing the
greatest distress at being obliged to wait for their breakfast.
While thus engaged, there came down the river a dirty little boat, with
a dirty little sail, in the stern of which sat two very untidy young
men.
When it was within a hundred yards of The Rolling Stone, this boat, the
approach of which Chap had not noticed, was run ashore, and the two
untidy young men, each carrying a gun, came walking down the narrow
beach.
When they were near the boat, Chap heard them, and looking up, was very
much surprised to see these strangers. They saluted Chap in a friendly
way, and as The Rolling Stone was near the shore, they stepped on
board, and sitting down, began to talk to him.
The untidy young men asked Chap a great many questions, all of which he
answered freely.
“So you’re in a great hurry to get North?” said one of them.
“Oh, yes,” said Chap. “You see, our friends don’t know where we are,
and we wouldn’t stop anywhere, if we didn’t have to.”
“And the rest of the party has gone off and left you here by yourself,”
said the other. “We was a-wonderin’ as we was comin’ down what you was
doin’ here on the boat.”
“I tried to fish,” said Chap, “but I couldn’t keep her out.”
“If you fellers want to git up the river in a hurry, you ought to have
a smaller boat that’ll sail ag’in the wind better’n this one. Now we’ve
got a little boat up there that we want to send back to Titusville, and
you’ve got one you want to send back to John Brewer. If you say so,
we’ll trade, and that’ll suit all parties.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t think of that,” said Chap, rather contemptuously,
looking up at the craft they had left. “Your boat is entirely too small
for us, and this suits us first-rate. It’s a regular little yacht.”
“Yes,” said the other, looking around him, “she’s a mighty comfortable
boat.”
After examining the little bears, and asking a few more questions, the
two young men stepped ashore and walked up to their own boat.
Chap thought they were going to re-embark, but this they did not
do. They loaded themselves with some pouches and flasks, a basket
containing canned food of various kinds, a bag of flour, and a few
articles of wearing apparel.
These things they brought down to The Rolling Stone, and, much to
Chap’s surprise, they put them all aboard.
“What are you about?” cried our friend, springing to his feet.
“We’re goin’ to trade boats,” said one of the young men, as he stepped
on board.
“No, you are not!” cried Chap, in great excitement.
And then, at the top of his voice, he gave a wild shout, hoping that
Adam or the boys might hear him.
“Push her off!” said the young man on board to the one on shore.
And in a moment The Rolling Stone was floating in one or two feet of
water.
The other young man now scrambled on deck, and, having pulled the
anchor on board, he came aft, where Chap was already engaged in
endeavoring to put his companion overboard.
Both men now threw themselves on Chap, and, in a very short time, that
unfortunate fellow was floundering in the shallow water.
Rising to his feet, he made a rush toward the boat, and would have
boarded her had not the muzzle of a shot-gun been pointed at his head.
“Just you stay where you are,” said the young man with the gun, as the
other seized the pole and pushed The Rolling Stone out into deep water.
“If you hadn’t hollered for your fellers we’d ’a’ put some of your
things ashore, but we haven’t time for that now. Good-by.”
And putting down his gun, the speaker took the tiller, while his
companion hauled up the main-sail, and in about a minute The Rolling
Stone was scudding down the river before a strong north wind.
At first Chap stood bewildered. His mind could scarcely comprehend the
fact that there were two men in the world who would do the thing that
these young men had just done. To throw him out of his own boat, and
make off with it before his eyes! Could it all be real?
But he did not long stand still. His active nature made it necessary
for him to do something. If he had had a gun he would have fired after
the rascals, but as it was he could do absolutely nothing by himself,
and the first thing to be thought of now was to let the others know
what had happened.
Giving a last look at the retreating boat, he saw that one of the young
men was pouring what appeared to be milk in a tin basin. The villains
knew that the bears were hungry, and as they had milk with them, they
evidently intended to feed them and bring them up as their own.
Was there ever such unparalleled impudence? The sight made his blood
boil, and he involuntarily shook his fist at the retreating boat.
There was a rough path or narrow roadway which ran through the woods
in the direction in which Adam had gone, and along this path Chap now
ran at the top of his speed. The boys had also gone this way, and he
thought he must soon overtake some of his party.
It happened, however, as it has happened so often before to many
a traveller, that Chap soon came to a point where there were two
diverging paths, and he did not know which was the one that Adam had
taken.
He stopped for about a quarter of a minute to consider, and then, like
many another unfortunate traveller, he took the wrong path.
Away he dashed along the track which led to the left, stopping every
now and then to shout at the top of his voice. At last his breath began
to fail him, and then he rested for a time.
As soon as he had recovered a little, he shouted and shouted again, but
no answering shout came back to him, and then he started off again. He
did not run now, but he walked rapidly.
If he kept on, he thought, he must soon reach the house to which Adam
had gone, but he walked and walked and walked until he felt sure he
must have gone two or three miles; but then distances are not judged
very accurately in wild places such as this, and Adam might have been
mistaken in supposing the house was only a mile and a half away.
This path certainly led somewhere, and he would keep on a little while
longer. If he did not soon come to a house, he would turn back.
He did not soon come to a house, and he sat down on a fallen tree to
rest. As he sat there, he felt very badly about the matter. As it had
so happened that he had not found Adam and the boys, he felt that it
would have been better if he had remained by the river. The others had
probably arrived there by this time, and when he should get back and
tell them what had happened, they would all feel that a great deal of
valuable time had been lost by his running away into the woods. He was
tired, and hungry, too, and the thought struck him that he did not know
how they were going to get anything to eat, unless they all went to the
house of which Adam had spoken.
“I’m glad the scoundrels did not run away with Phœnix’s money,” he
thought.
And that was the only ray of comfort that seemed to shine across his
present miserable existence.
And yet he did not blame himself for what had happened. Perhaps he
ought not to have come so far into the woods, but he had done it for
the best.
He now arose, and as he did so he looked along a portion of the path
which stretched in an almost straight line before him, and at the end
of the little vista which it made, he saw some blue and curling smoke.
“Hurrah!” he cried. “A house is just ahead! Why on earth was I so
foolish as to stop here?” and so saying, he hurried along the path.
When he arrived at the place where he saw the smoke, he found no house,
but in a little open space in the woods there was a fire on the ground,
and hanging from a branch of a tree above the fire was a covered tin
vessel, very much blackened by smoke, in which something seemed to be
simmering.
Chap stopped and looked at the fire. As he did so two men arose from
the foot of a tree and came toward him. As soon as Chap looked at these
men he knew they were Indians.
Chap had seen Indians before in the city near which he lived, but
these were on exhibition, and were dressed in all the paraphernalia
of blankets, leggings, feathers, and dangling ornaments, which are
generally supposed to make up the ordinary costume of the American
Indian; but he had never seen the red man in his native wilds, and the
dress of these Indians surprised him almost as much as their appearance
on the spot. They had copper-colored faces, high cheek-bones, jet-black
hair, and wore moccasins, and these were the only points of resemblance
between them and the traditional Indian.
They each wore a blue-flannel shirt, a pair of thick cotton trousers,
and a dilapidated felt hat. One of them carried a powder-horn and a
buckskin bullet-pouch, and against the tree, beneath which they had
been sitting, there leaned a rifle.
As the Indians approached, one of them held out his hand. Chap had not
made up his mind whether to be relieved or frightened when he saw the
Indians, but he took the tawny hand that was offered him, and gave it a
shake. There seemed to be nothing else to do.
[Illustration]