THE COMPACT.
After leaving his camping ground, Captain Kidd soon parted from the
Englishman, whom he sent on through a valley, where he disappeared.
Kidd had not much practice in using snowshoes, for he was a horseman
of southern plains life; and the inevitable pain at the instep forced
him to reach the higher land of the valley divide or crest, and trudge
on with the rackets at his back. Here the wind had left but an inch or
two of snow; and he walked for a couple of hours without noteworthy
inconvenience. Finally, he came within half a mile of the Red River
Half-breeds' ill-fated encampment.
When "Quarry Dick" preceded him there, he found the Canadians still
digging out the wagons, and binding up their wounds and frostbites. He
was much surprised at seeing so many women and girls; and, at the first
words addressed to him, was still further filled with astonishment.
Instead of going on to the place where--whether he knew it or not--the
Botany Bay convict had prepared an enviable reception, his captain
chose an elevated knoll, cut some long sticks with his hatchet knife,
laid them upon the snow, and across one another in strata, so as to
form a platform, and kindled a fire upon this greenwood, a tolerably
familiar act in the winter. Soon the flame sprang up, hot enough to
roast a buffalo whole; but he threw a couple of handfuls of stinkwood
upon it to cause a black pillar of smoke.
On spying this token that his leader was at hand, the "Sydney Duck"
remained in the Bois Brulés' camp as a hostage, according to usage,
though the precaution would have been waived, and their captain came
forth to confabulate with the other commander. Gliding along over the
snow with the Canadians' expertness on what are national footwear to
them, the Half-breed speedily hailed the man quietly seated at his fire.
"Who comes?" challenged the latter, cocking his rifle, for form's sake.
"Dagard, the Bois Brulé, one of the leaders of the Red River Rovers!"
"I am the leader of a large band of gold hunters," was the reply. "Glad
to see you; come on."
Captain Dagard was one of those independent spirits, who would always
be in conflict with the town authorities in civilisation; and also, in
the wilds, did pretty much as he pleased, and executed, with delightful
nonchalance, many an unjustifiable deed. His mixed blood made him now
hate the whites--now scorn the reds--but all the time resist government
in general, and the British Colonial one in particular. It is to be
borne in mind, too, that never were two more incongruous elements in
one country than the Scotch and the French settlers of Canada--the
one sober, steady, strict Puritans; the other volatile, indolent for
periods out of proportion to their fits of activity, and staunch
upholders of the feasts of the Church.
Unprejudiced beholders cannot see any difference in the treatment
by the rulers of either people; but still the French Canadians, and
principally these Half-breeds, never cease complaining that they do not
enjoy the same privileges as the conqueror race.
Kidd and the Manitoban sat down by one another.
"You might as well have come on into my camp," said l'Embarrasseur,
reproachfully, "though we are a little upset by the storm. The moment
I learnt from your adherent--a stout fellow, eh? Though a bit of a
brute!--That you were so kind as to help me when the Crows were in our
midst, you could be sure you were as my brother!"
"Yes, of course," stammered Kidd, at a loss to understand the allusion.
"I--I came in--in the nick, didn't I?"
"Like a miracle! We thought we were gone under, sure, when you poured
in that volley, and made the Crows take the back track. By all that's
blue! You gave them such a share that we have seen not a feather of
them since! That is one kind thing for which we are all grateful. Now,
is it in our power to repay you?"
"That depends."
"You are prospecting; is our local knowledge any use to you?--it is
freely yours, captain."
"I can say neither yes nor no now, for my comrades must be consulted.
We are going into the Yellowstone Basin after gold--"
"Ha, ha!" laughed Dagard; "Another dive into the famous Northern El
Dorado, where the way is paved with gold and silver, and the fishponds
are boiling water whence one draws the _poisson d'avril_ ready cooked!"
"Do you not believe it is likely?" queried Kidd, earnestly.
"As you say, neither yes nor no. We gave the 'Firehole' a wide berth,
for we are not at home in sulphur marshes, soda lakes, and burning
pits, like that of the bad place. If there be gold there, though--"
"I promise you that," returned Kidd, confidently; "all points to it.
Will you join us--sharing and sharing alike--if my men agree to the
union? There is enough and to spare for all of us. Besides, blood being
spilt of the Indians, I am afraid my men need be five hundred, and yet
prove feeble. These mountain Indians are hardy, not given to the rum
bottle, and warlike above all their brethren of the plains."
"They fought like devils incarnate, I repeat. Half my command is
disabled or dead, and we were lost irretrievably but for your
intervention. I say that again. But what am I to do with the women?"
"What women?"
"I have under my charge sixteen women, that is, those over twenty-five
years, and fourteen young girls, to say nothing of still tenderer
children--"
"Oh, pshaw! If you are dragging your families about with you," began
the gold hunter, contemptuously.
"You are off the track. These are valuables, not encumbrances,"
rejoined Dagard, tartly. "In two words, they are the captives of the
Dakotas, taken away from their burnt cabins in recent raids, and they
were placed in my charge so that the Indian agents might discover no
traces of them. Thus I have secured the friendship of the Sioux, and
if the English come to attack our little Red River Republic, they will
find us reinforced by plenty o' fighting men!"
"And," proceeded Kidd, with a chuckle, "if the redcoats defeat you
and you take flight back into Uncle Sam's territory, you can obtain
his protection by a handing over of the captives whom you charitably
snatched from the wigwam. Well conceived, Captain Dagard!"
"Well or ill conceived, it is not my invention."
"Well, anyway, no fool thought of it."
"That's where you are wrong. It's the idea of a lubberly man of mine,
Dave Steelder, 'Daft Dave.' He's an _innocent,_ as we Bretons say, an
idiot, if you prefer the word."
"Oh, Daft Dave!" exclaimed Kidd, with a sparkle of the eye under his
snow goggles.
"Do you know him?"
"I met him at the Humboldt Washup when the flume burst and carried away
his hut and savings. They say that drove him stupid. That was in 1869,
or so, but others make out he was cranky before."
"If he is an acquaintance of yours, perhaps you would like to see him.
Shall I whistle him over?"
"Well, no, some other occasion! He may have the delusion that I look
like one of the awkward cusses that broke a plank in the flume and let
the flood spoil the diggings. Astonishing what a family likeness the
red flannel shirt, the patched pants, and the high up boots gave us
all at the gold mines. I have often been taken for another!" concluded
Kidd, with a wink.
"How unfortunate!" said l'Embarrasseur, drolly laughing. "Then, I
should not advise you to run against Dave. He's apt to tear when he's
mad. Still, his strength makes him useful about a camp, though he's not
bright, and though he's not trusted on guard, he throws out valuable
hints now and again, as these dullards do. But this is wind work, mere
talk. What have you come over to propose?"
"Well, I am thinking that you and I might work in double harness."
"Strike a bargain, eh? There's no knowing! There will be a stir up on
the frontier--the Britishers are pressing on that railroad. I want all
the friends I can cluster. What's your proposal?"
"Assist me to find the gold hoard in the Firehole, and I, who am not
without friends in Congress, will engage to restore your captives in
so glorious a manner to their relatives, that you will become a hero
and have a monument in every Western city! It is true the Sioux will
sharpen their knives to punish your breach of faith, but I never heard
that there were many Sioux in the hotels of the Eastern States!"
"Then we unite! And instead of my being a poor leader of only a score
hale men, I become a subchief of over two hundred!"
"My lieutenant! The sooner I reinforce you the better, eh? White women
in the mountains and Indians within rifle range: it's a temptation they
can't withstand. I ought to add that another danger exists. They say in
the towns that that old rogue, Jim Ridge, boasts that he regulates this
chain of the sierras."
"His friends the trappers lynch a horse thief now and then, and shoot
offhand anyone robbing cachés, but that's sound trapper law."
"If he and his friends block our entrance into the Yellowstone 'Park,'
what would you do?"
"Oh, when there's a man between me and what my empty pocket gapes for,
either he or I go under!"
"You're the true colour," ejaculated Kidd, using a gold miner's phrase,
and not, of course, reflecting on his colloquist's complexion--a sore
point with mixed bloods. "I will send you a dozen men from the camp
the moment I return, and you can join me at our next tent pitching, of
which they will bear you word. By the way, tell Quarry Dick to make
straight for that Blackstone of a Negro head shape as well as hue.
I will meet him there by a circuit, for I can make no way on these
confounded snowshoes."
"It comes by practice, my brave captain," said Dagard merrily, "like
spending money. _Au revoir!_ Our rally word is--"
"Gold!"
"And the countersign?"
"Beauty!"
They drank each from the others pocket flask in token of absolute
trust, and the gold hunter was left to raise his little camp after
carefully smothering the fire to prevent firing the brushwood of the
vale beneath.