A SURPRISE AND A PIECE OF GOOD NEWS--THE FUR-TRADERS--CRUSOE PROVED, AND
THE PEIGANS PURSUED.
Dick's first and most natural impulse, on beholding this band, was to
mount his horse and fly, for his mind naturally enough recurred to the
former rough treatment he had experienced at the hands of Indians. On
second thoughts, however, he considered it wiser to throw himself upon
the hospitality of the strangers; "for," thought he, "they can but kill
me, an' if I remain here I'm like to die at any rate."
So Dick mounted his wild horse, grasped his rifle in his right hand,
and, followed by Crusoe, galloped full tilt down the valley to meet
them.
He had heard enough of the customs of savage tribes, and had also of
late experienced enough, to convince him that when a man found himself
in the midst of an overwhelming force, his best policy was to assume an
air of confident courage. He therefore approached them at his utmost
speed.
The effect upon the advancing band was electrical; and little wonder,
for the young hunter's appearance was very striking. His horse, from
having rested a good deal of late, was full of spirit; its neck was
arched, its nostrils expanded, and its mane and tail, never having been
checked in their growth, flew wildly around him in voluminous curls.
Dick's own hair, not having been clipped for many months, appeared
scarcely less wild as they thundered down the rocky pass at what
appeared a break-neck gallop. Add to this the grandeur of the scene out
of which they sprang, and the gigantic dog that bounded by his side, and
you will not be surprised to hear that the Indian warriors clustered
together, and prepared to receive this bold horseman as if he, in his
own proper person, were a complete squadron of cavalry. It is probable,
also, that they fully expected the tribe of which Dick was the chief to
be at his heels.
As he drew near the excitement among the strangers seemed very great,
and, from the peculiarity of the various cries that reached him, he knew
that there were women and children in the band--a fact which, in such a
place and at such a season, was so unnatural, that it surprised him very
much. He noted also that, though the men in front were Indians, their
dresses were those of trappers and hunters, and he almost leaped out of
his saddle when he observed that "_Pale-faces_" were among them. But he
had barely time to note these facts when he was up with the band.
According to Indian custom, he did not check his speed till he was
within four or five yards of the advance-guard, who stood in a line
before him, quite still, and with their rifles lying loosely in their
left palms; then he reined his steed almost on _its_ haunches.
One of the Indians advanced and spoke a few words in a language which
was quite unintelligible to Dick, who replied, in the little Pawnee he
could muster, that he didn't understand him.
"Why, you must be a trapper!" exclaimed a thick-set, middle-aged man,
riding out from the group. "Can you speak English?"
"Ay, that can I," cried Dick, joyfully, riding up and shaking the
stranger heartily by the hand; "an' right glad am I to fall in wi' a
white-skin an' a civil tongue in his head."
"Good sooth, sir," replied the stranger, with a quiet smile on his kind,
weather-beaten face, "I can return you the compliment, for when I saw
you come thundering down the corrie with that wonderful horse and no
less wonderful dog of yours, I thought you were the wild man o' the
mountain himself, and had an ambush ready to back you. But, young man,
do you mean to say that you live here in the mountain all alone after
this fashion?"
"No, that I don't. I've comed here in my travels; but, truly, this
bean't my home. But, sir (for I see you are what the fur-traders call a
bourgeois), how comes it that such a band as this rides i' the
mountains! D'ye mean to say that _they_ live here?" Dick looked round
in surprise, as he spoke, upon the crowd of mounted men and women, with
children and pack-horses, that now surrounded him.
"'Tis a fair question, lad. I am a principal among the fur-traders
whose chief trading-post lies near the Pacific Ocean, on the west side
of these mountains, and I have come with these trappers and their
families, as you see, to hunt the beaver and other animals for a season
in the mountains. We've never been here before; but that's a matter of
little moment, for it's not the first time I've been on what may be
called a discovery-trading expedition. We are somewhat entangled,
however, just now, among these wild passes, and, if you can guide us out
of our difficulties to the east side of the mountains, I'll thank you
heartily and pay you well. But first tell me who and what you are, if
it's a fair question."
"My name is Dick Varley, and my home's in the Mustang Valley, near the
Missouri river. As to _what_ I am--I'm nothin' yet, but I hope to
desarve the name o' a hunter some day. I can guide you to the east side
o' the mountains, for I've comed from there; but more than that I can't
do, for I'm a stranger to the country here, like yourself. But you're
on the east side o' the mountains already, if I mistake not; only these
mountains are so rugged and jumbled up, that it's not easy tellin' where
ye are. And what," continued Dick, "may be the name o' the bourgeois
who speaks to me?"
"My name is Cameron--Walter Cameron--a well-known name among the
Scottish hills, although it sounds a little strange here. And now,
young man, will you join my party as guide, and afterwards remain as
trapper? It will pay you better, I think, than roving about alone."
Dick shook his head and looked grave. "I'll guide you," said he, "as
far as my knowledge 'll help me; but after that I must return to look
for two comrades whom I have lost. They have been driven into the
mountains by a band of Injuns. God grant they may not have bin
scalped."
The trader's face looked troubled, and he spoke with one of his Indians
for a few minutes in earnest, hurried tones.
"What were they like, young man?"
Dick described them.
"The same," continued the trader; "they've been seen, lad, not more than
two days ago, by this Indian here, when he was out hunting alone some
miles away from our camp. He came suddenly on a band of Indians, who
had two prisoners with them, such as you describe. They were stout,
said you?"
"Yes, both of them," cried Dick, listening with intense eagerness.
"Ay. They were tied to their horses, an' from what I know of these
fellows I'm sure they're doomed. But I'll help you, my friend, as well
as I can. They can't be far from this. I treated my Indian's story
about them as a mere fabrication, for he's the most notorious liar in my
company; but he seems to have spoken truth for once."
"Thanks, thanks, good sir," cried Dick. "Had we not best turn back and
follow them at once?"
"Nay, friend, not quite so fast," replied Cameron, pointing to his
people. "These must be provided for first, but I shall be ready before
the sun goes down. And now, as I presume you don't bivouac in the snow,
will you kindly conduct us to your encampment, if it be not far hence?"
Although burning with impatience to fly to the rescue of his friends,
Dick felt constrained to comply with so reasonable a request, so he led
the way to his camping-place, where the band of fur-traders immediately
began to pitch their tents, cut down wood, kindle fires, fill their
kettles with water, cook their food, and, in fact, make themselves
comfortable. The wild spot which, an hour before, had been so still,
and grand, and gloomy, was now, as if by magic, transformed into a
bustling village, with bright fires blazing among the rocks and bushes,
and merry voices of men, women, and children ringing in the air. It
seemed almost incredible, and no wonder Dick, in his bewilderment, had
difficulty in believing it was not all a dream.
In days long gone by the fur-trade in that country was carried on in a
very different way from the manner in which it is now conducted. These
wild regions, indeed, are still as lonesome and untenanted (save by wild
beasts and wandering tribes of Indians), as they were then; but the
Indians of the present day have become accustomed to the "pale-faced"
trader, whose little wooden forts or trading-posts are dotted here and
there, at wide intervals, all over the land. But in the days of which
we write it was not so. The fur-traders at that time went forth in
armed bands into the heart of the Indians' country, and he who went
forth did so "with his life in his hand." As in the case of the soldier
who went out to battle, there was great probability that he might never
return.
The band of which Walter Cameron was the chief had, many months before,
started from one of the distant posts of Oregon on a hunting expedition
into the then totally unknown lands of the Snake Indians. It consisted
of about sixty men, thirty women, and as many children of various
ages,--about a hundred and twenty souls in all. Many of the boys were
capable of using the gun and setting a beaver-trap. The men were a most
motley set. There were Canadians, half-breeds, Iroquois, and Scotchmen.
Most of the women had Indian blood in their veins, and a few were pure
Indians.
The equipment of this strange band consisted of upwards of two hundred
beaver-traps--which are similar to our rat-traps, with this difference,
that they have two springs and no teeth--seventy guns, a few articles
for trade with the Indians, and a large supply of powder and ball; the
whole--men, women, children, goods, and chattels--being carried on the
backs of nearly four hundred horses. Many of these horses, at starting,
were not laden, being designed for the transport of furs that were to be
taken in the course of the season.
For food this adventurous party depended entirely on their guns, and
during the march hunters were kept constantly out ahead. As a matter of
course their living was precarious. Sometimes their kettles were
overflowing; at others they scarce refrained from eating their horses.
But, during the months they had already spent in the wilderness, good
living had been the rule, starvation the exception. They had already
collected a large quantity of beaver-skins, which at that time were
among the most valuable in the market, although they are now scarcely
saleable!
Having shot two wild horses, seven elks, six small deer, and four
big-horned sheep, the day before they met Dick Varley, the camp-kettles
were full, and the people consequently happy.
"Now, Master Dick Varley," said Cameron, touching the young hunter on
the shoulder as he stood ready equipped by one of the campfires; "I'm at
your service. The people won't need any more looking after to-night.
I'll divide my men--thirty shall go after this rascally band of Peigans,
for such I believe they are, and thirty shall remain to guard the camp.
Are you ready?"
"Ready! ay, this hour past."
"Mount then, lad; the men have already been told off and are mustering
down yonder where the deer gave you such a licking."
Dick needed no second bidding. He vaulted on Charlie's back and along
with their commander joined the men, who were thirty as fine, hardy,
reckless-looking fellows as one could desire for a forlorn hope. They
were chatting and laughing while they examined their guns and saddle
girths. Their horses were sorry-looking animals compared with the
magnificent creature that Dick bestrode, but they were hardy,
nevertheless, and well fitted for their peculiar work.
"My! wot a blazer," exclaimed a trapper as Dick rode up.
"Where you git him?" inquired a half-breed.
"I caught him," answered Dick.
"Baw!" cried the first speaker.
Dick took no notice of this last remark.
"No, did ye though?" he asked again.
"I did," answered Dick, quietly; "I creased him in the prairie--you can
see the mark on his neck if you look."
The men began to feel that the young hunter was perhaps a little beyond
them at their own trade, and regarded him with increased respect.
"Look sharp now, lads," said Cameron, impatiently, to several dilatory
members of the band. "Night will be on us ere long."
"Who sold ye the bear-claw collar?" inquired another man of Dick.
"I didn't buy it. I killed the bear and made it."
"Did ye, though, all be yer lone?"
"Ay, that wasn't much, was it?"
"You've begun well, yonker," said a tall middle-aged hunter, whose
general appearance was not unlike that of Joe Blunt. "Jest keep clear
o' the Injuns an' the grog bottle an' ye've a glor'ous life before ye."
At this point the conversation was interrupted by the order being given
to move on, which was obeyed in silence, and the cavalcade, descending
the valley, entered one of the gorges in the mountains.
For the first half mile Cameron rode a little ahead of his men, then he
turned to speak to one of them and for the first time observed Crusoe
trotting close beside his master's horse.
"Ah! Master Dick," he exclaimed with a troubled expression, "that won't
do. It would never do to take a dog on an expedition like this."
"Why not?" asked Dick, "the pup's quiet and peaceable."
"I doubt it not, but he will betray our presence to the Indians, which
might be inconvenient."
"I've travelled more than a thousand miles through prairie and forest,
among game an' among Injuns, an' the pup never betrayed me yet," said
Dick, with suppressed vehemence; "he has saved my life more than once
though."
"You seem to have perfect confidence in your dog, but as this is a
serious matter you must not expect me to share in it without proof of
his trustworthiness."
"The pup may be useful to us; how would you have it proved?" inquired
Dick.
"Any way you like."
"You forgot your belt at starting, I think I heered ye say."
"Yes, I did," replied the trader, smiling.
Dick immediately took hold of Cameron's coat, and bade Crusoe smell it,
which the dog did very carefully. Then he showed him his own belt and
said: "Go back to the camp and fetch it, pup."
Crusoe was off in a moment, and in less than twenty minutes returned
with Cameron's belt in his mouth.
"Well, I'll trust him," said Cameron, patting Crusoe's head. "Forward,
lads!" and away they went at a brisk trot along the bottom of a
beautiful valley on each side of which the mountains towered in dark
masses. Soon the moon rose and afforded light sufficient to enable them
to travel all night in the track of the Indian hunter who said he had
seen the Peigans, and who was constituted guide to the party. Hour
after hour the horsemen pressed on without check, now galloping over a
level plain, now bounding by the banks of a rivulet, or bending their
heads to escape the boughs of overhanging trees, and anon toiling slowly
up among the rocks of some narrow defile. At last the moon set, and the
order was given to halt in a little plain where there was wood and
water.
The horses were picketted, a fire kindled, a mouthful of dried meat
hastily eaten, the watch was set, and then each man scraped away the
snow, spread some branches on the ground, and, wrapping himself in his
blanket, went to sleep with his feet presented towards the fire.
Two hours were allowed for rest; then they were awakened, and in a few
minutes were off again by the grey light of dawn. In this way they
travelled two nights and a day. At the end of that time they came
suddenly on a small party of nine Indians who were seated on the ground
with their snow-shoes and blankets by their sides. They had evidently
been taken by surprise, but they made no attempt to escape, knowing that
it was useless. Each sat still with his bow and arrows between his legs
on the ground ready for instant use.
As soon as Cameron spoke, however, in their own language they felt
relieved and began to talk.
"Where do you come from, and what are you doing here?" asked the trader.
"We have come to trade with the white men," one of them replied, "and to
hunt. We have come from the Missouri. Our country is far away."
"Do Peigans hunt with _war-arrows_?" asked Cameron, pointing to their
weapons.
This question seemed to perplex them, for they saw that their
interrogator knew the difference between a war and a hunting arrow--the
former being barbed in order to render its extraction from the wound
difficult, while the head of the latter is round and can be drawn out of
game that has been killed, and used again.
"And do Peigans," continued Cameron, "come from a far country to trade
with the white men _with nothing_?"
Again the Indians were silent, for they had not an article of trade
about them.
Cameron now felt convinced that this party of Peigans, into whose hands
Joe Blunt and Henri had fallen, were nothing else than a war-party, and
that the men now before him were a scouting-party sent out from them,
probably to spy out his own camp, on the trail of which they had fallen,
so he said to them--
"The Peigans are not wise men, they tell lies to the traders. I will
tell you that you are a war-party, and that you are only a few warriors
sent out to spy the traders' camp. You have also two _Pale-face_
prisoners in your camp. You cannot deceive me. It is useless to try.
Now, conduct me to your camp. My object is not war; it is peace. I
will speak with your chiefs about trading with the white men, and we
will smoke the pipe of peace. Are my words good?"
Despite their proverbial control of muscle, these Indians could not
conceal their astonishment at hearing so much of their affairs thus laid
bare, so they said that the Pale-face chief was wise, that he must be a
great medicine-man, and that what he said was all true except about the
white men. They had never seen any Pale-faces, and knew nothing
whatever about those he spoke of.
This was a terrible piece of news to poor Dick, and at first his heart
fairly sank within him, but by degrees he came to be more hopeful. He
concluded that if these men told lies in regard to one thing they would
do it in regard to another, and perhaps they might have some strong
reason for denying any knowledge of Joe and Henri.
The Indians now packed up the buffalo robes on which they had slept, and
the mouthful of provisions they had taken with them.
"I don't believe a word of what they say about your friends," said
Cameron to Dick in a low tone while the Indians were thus engaged.
"Depend upon it they hope to hide them till they can send to the
settlements and get a ransom, or till they get an opportunity of
torturing them to death before their women and children when they get
back to their own village. But we'll baulk them, my friend, do not
fear."
The Indians were soon ready to start, for they were lumbered with
marvellously little camp equipage. In less than half an hour after
their discovery they were running like deer ahead of the cavalcade in
the direction of the Peigan camp.