In the depths of the same forest, and not far from the locality to which
we have introduced our reader, a Red Indian was dragging his limbs
wearily along over the untrodden snow.
The attenuated frame of this son of the soil, his hollow cheeks and
glaring eye-balls, his belt drawn with extreme tightness round his
waist, to repress the gnawings of hunger, as well as his enfeebled gait,
proved that he was approaching the last stage of starvation.
For many weeks Wapaw had been travelling in the woods, guided on his way
by the stars, and by those slight and delicate signs of the wilderness--
such as the difference of thickness in the bark on the north, from that
on the south side of a tree--which are perceptible only to the keen eye
of an Indian, or a white man whose life has been spent in the
wilderness.
But Wapaw was a very different man, when he quitted his tribe, from what
he was at the time we introduce him to our reader. Strong, wiry,
upright, and lithe as a panther, he left his wigwam and his wife, and
turned his face towards the rising sun; but the season was a severe one,
and game was scarce; from the very beginning of his journey he had found
it difficult to supply himself with a sufficiency of food. Towards the
middle of it he was on short allowance, and much reduced in strength;
and now near its termination, he was, as we have said, almost in the
last stage of starvation.
Fort Enterprise was Wapaw's goal. He had never been there before, but
from the description of the place and its locality, given by those of
his kindred who had visited Robin Gore, he was able to direct his march
with unerring certainty towards it. Of course, as he drew near to it he
could not ascertain his exact distance--whether he was a day or several
days' journey off--but from the tracks of Robin's snow-shoes, which he
crossed more than once, he guessed that he was nearing the Fort, and
pushed on with renewed hope and energy.
Robin, however, was an active hunter. He often made long and rapid
marches from his lonely dwelling--sometimes staying away a week or two
at a time even in winter; so that Wapaw thought himself nearer Fort
Enterprise than he really was, when he first discovered the bold
hunter's tracks. When, at length, he did arrive at less than a day's
journey from the Fort, he was not aware of its close proximity, and,
having tasted nothing whatever for two days, he felt the approach of
that terrible state of exhaustion which precedes death.
It was a somewhat stormy day when the poor Indian's strength finally
broke down. Hitherto he had pushed forward with some degree of hope,
but on the morning of this day a broken branch caught his snow-shoe and
tripped him. At any other time the fall would have been a trifle, but
in his weak condition it acted like the last straw which breaks the
camel's back. Wapaw rose with difficulty, and brushing the snow from
his eyes, looked earnestly at his snow-shoes, well knowing that if they
had been broken in the fall his power of advancing would have been taken
away and his fate sealed, for he had neither strength nor energy left to
repair them. They were uninjured, however; so he once more attempted to
stagger on.
A slight rising ground lay before him. To ascend this was a labour so
great that he almost sank in the midst of it. He reached the top,
however, and gazed eagerly before him. He had gazed thus at the top of
every rising ground that he had reached during the last two days, in the
hope of seeing some sign of the Fort.
A deep sigh escaped him as he rested his hands on the muzzle of his gun,
and his grave countenance was overspread with a look of profound
melancholy. For the first time in his life, the once stout and active
Wapaw had reached the point of giving way to despair. A wide open plain
stretched out before him. The cold wind was howling wildly across it,
driving the keen snow-drift before it in whirling clouds. Even a strong
man might have shrunk from exposing himself on such a plain and to such
a blast on that bitter arctic day. Wapaw felt that, in his case, to
cross it would be certain death; so, with the calm philosophy of a Red
Indian, he made up his mind to lay him down and die!
His manner of preparing for his end was somewhat singular. Turning
aside into the woods, he set about making an encampment with as much
vigour as he could summon up. Clearing away the snow from the roots of
a large spreading pine-tree, he strewed branches on the ground, and thus
made a rude couch. On this he spread his blanket. Then he cut some
firewood with the axe that hung at his side, and soon kindled, by means
of flint, steel, and tinder, a good fire. Seating himself before the
warm blaze, the exhausted man rested awhile, with his legs drawn
together and his head resting on his knees.
He sat so long thus that he nearly fell asleep. Presently he roused
himself, and proceeded to make a close examination of his wallet and
firebag--the latter being a beautifully ornamented pouch, which Indians
and fur-traders wear at their belts, for the purpose of containing the
materials for producing fire, besides pipes and tobacco.
Poor Wapaw had already searched his wallet and firebag twice, without
finding a crumb of food or a morsel of tobacco. He knew well that they
were empty, yet he turned them inside out, and examined the seams and
corners with as much earnestness as if he really expected to find relief
from his sufferings there.
There was no expression of pain on the red man's face--only a look of
profound melancholy.
He laid aside the firebag after a little while, and then quietly drew
his knife, and cut a piece of leather from the skirt of his hunting
coat.
The leather had been dried and smoked, and contained no substance
whatever that could sustain life. Wapaw was aware of this--nevertheless
he singed a portion of it until it was reduced almost to ashes, and
mingling a little snow with this, ate it greedily.
Then, raising his eyes to the sky with a long earnest gaze, he sat
immovable, until the sinking fire and the increasing cold recalled his
wandering faculties.
There was a wild, glassy look about the Indian's eyes now, which
probably resulted from exhaustion. He seemed to struggle several times
to rouse himself before he succeeded; shuddering with intense cold, he
crept to the little pile of firewood, and placed several billets on the
fire, which speedily blazed up again, and the dying man cowered over it,
regardless of the smoke which ever and anon wreathed round his drooping
head.
In a few minutes Wapaw started up as if new energy had been infused into
him. He placed his gun, axe, firebag, and powder-horn by themselves on
the ground; then he wrapped himself in his blanket and lay slowly down
beside them with his feet towards the fire. For a few minutes he lay on
his back, gazing earnestly upwards, while his lips moved slowly, but no
sound issued from them. Then he turned wearily on his side, and,
covering his head with the blanket and turning his face towards the
ground, he resigned himself to death.
But God had ordained that, at that time, the red man should not die.
About the time when he lay down, our hunters emerged upon the plain
which had caused the Indian to despair.
"It's of no use goin' farther," observed Robin, as he and his companions
stood at the edge of the forest and looked across the plain; "the wind
blows too hard, and the drift is keen; besides there ain't much to be
got hereaway, even in seasons of plenty."
"Father! is that smoke risin' over the bluff yonder?" asked Roy,
pointing with his finger as he spoke.
"No doubt of it, lad."
"Indians, may be," said Walter.
Robin shook his head. "Don't think so," said he, "for the redskins
don't often come to see me at this time o' the year. But we'll go see;
an' look to your primin', lads--if it's a war-party we'll ha' to fight,
mayhap, if we don't run."
The three hunters crossed the plain in the teeth of the howling drift,
and cautiously approached the bluff referred to by Roy, and from behind
which the smoke ascended.
"It's a camp fire," whispered Robin, as he glanced back at his
companions, "but I see no one there. They must have just left the
place."
There was a shade of anxiety in the hunter's voice as he spoke, for he
thought of Fort Enterprise, its defenceless condition, and the
possibility of the Indians having gone thither.
"They can't have gone to the Fort," said Walter, "else we should have
seen their tracks on the way hither."
"Come," said Robin, stepping forward quickly, "we can see their tracks
now, anyhow, and follow them up, and if they lead to the Fort."
The hunter did not finish his sentence, for at that moment he caught
sight of the recumbent form of Wapaw in the camp.
"Hist! A redskin alone, and asleep! Well, I never did 'xpect to see
that."
"Mayhap, he's a decoy-duck," suggested Walter. "Better look sharp out."
Robin and Roy heeded not the caution. They at once went forward, and
the father lifted the blanket from the Indian's head.
"Dead!" exclaimed Roy, in a solemn tone.
"Not yet, lad! but I do b'lieve the poor critter's a'most gone wi'
starvation. Come, bestir you, boys--rouse up the fire, and boil the
kettle."
Walter and Roy did not require a second bidding. The kettle was ere
long singing on a blazing fire. The Indian's limbs were chafed and
warmed; a can of hot tea was administered, and Wapaw soon revived
sufficiently to look up and thank his deliverers.
"Now, as good luck has it, I chanced to leave my hand-sled at the Wolf's
Glen. Go, fetch it, Roy," said Robin.
The lad set off at once, and, as the glen was not far distant, soon
returned with a flat wooden sledge, six feet long by eighteen inches
broad, on which trappers are wont to pack their game in winter. On this
sledge Wapaw was firmly tied, and dragged by the hunters to Fort
Enterprise.
"Hast got a deer, father?" cried little Nelly, as she bounded in advance
of her mother to meet the returning party.
"No, Nelly--'tis dearer game than that."
"What? a redskin!" exclaimed Dame Gore in surprise; "is he dead?"
"No, nor likely to die," said Robin, "he's in a starvin' state though,
an'll be none the worse of a bit of our New Year's dinner. Here is game
enough for one meal an' more; come, lass, get it ready as fast as may
be."
So saying the bold hunter passed through the Fort gate, dragging the red
man behind him.