ADVENTURES WITH THE PEIGANS--CRUSOE DOES GOOD SERVICE AS A DISCOVERER--
THE SAVAGES OUTWITTED--THE RESCUE.
A run of twenty miles brought the travellers to a rugged defile in the
mountains, from which they had a view of a beautiful valley of
considerable extent. During the last two days a steady thaw had been
rapidly melting away the snow, so that it appeared only here and there
in the landscape in dazzling patches. At the distance of about half a
mile from where they halted to breathe the horses before commencing the
descent into this vale, several thin wreaths of smoke were seen rising
above the trees.
"Is that your camp?" inquired Cameron, riding up to the Indian runners
who stood in a group in front, looking as fresh after their twenty
miles' run as though they had only had a short walk.
To this they answered in the affirmative, adding that there were about
two hundred Peigans there.
It might have been thought that thirty men would have hesitated to
venture to attack so large a number as two hundred; but it had always
been found in the experience of Indian life, that a few resolute white
men well armed were more than a match for ten times their number of
Indians. And this arose not so much from the superior strength or
agility of the whites over their red foes, as from that bull-dog courage
and utter recklessness of their lives in combat,--qualities which the
crafty savage can neither imitate nor understand. The information was
received with perfect indifference by most of the trappers, and with
contemptuous laughter by some, for a large number of Cameron's men were
wild, evil-disposed fellows, who would have as gladly taken the life of
an Indian as a buffalo.
Just as the word was given to resume the march, Dick Varley rode up to
Cameron, and said in a somewhat anxious tone--"D'ye obsarve, sir, that
one o' the Red-skins has gone off ahead o' his comrades?"
"I see that, Master Dick, and it was a mistake of mine not to have
stopped him, but he was gone too far before I observed it, and I thought
it better to appear unconcerned. We must push on, though, and give him
as short time as possible to talk with his comrades in the camp."
The trappers pressed forward accordingly at a gallop, and were soon in
front of the clump of trees amongst which the Peigans were encamped.
Their approach had evidently spread great alarm among them, for there
was a good deal of bustle and running to and fro, but by the time the
trappers had dismounted and advanced in a body on foot, the savages had
resumed their usual quiet dignity of appearance, and were seated calmly
round their fires with their bows and arrows beside them. There were no
tents, no women or children, and the general aspect of the men showed
Cameron conclusively that his surmise about their being a war-party was
correct.
A council was immediately called; the trappers ranged themselves on one
side of the council-fire and the Indians on the other. Meanwhile, our
friend Crusoe had been displaying considerable irritability against the
Indians, and he would certainly have attacked the whole two hundred
single-handed if he had not been ordered by his master to lie still, but
never in his life before had Crusoe obeyed with such a bad grace. He
bristled and whined in a low tremulous tone, and looked imploringly at
Dick as if for permission to fly at them.
"The Pale-faced traders are glad to meet with the Peigans," began
Cameron, who determined to make no allusion to his knowledge that they
were a war-party, "for they wish to be friends with all the children of
the woods and prairies. They wish to trade with them; to exchange
blankets, and guns, and beads, and other goods which the Peigans
require, for furs of animals which the Pale-faces require."
"Ho! ho!" exclaimed the Indians; which expression might be translated,
"Hear, hear."
"But," continued Cameron, "we wish to have no war. We wish to see the
hatchet buried, and to see all the Red-men and the white men smoking the
pipe of peace, and hunting like brothers."
The "Ho-ho-ing" at this was very emphatic.
"Now," resumed the trader, "the Peigans have got two prisoners--two
Pale-faces--in their camp, and, as we cannot be on good terms while our
brothers are detained, we have come to ask for them, and to _present
some gifts_ to the Peigans."
To this there was no "Ho" at all, but a prolonged silence, which was at
length interrupted by a tall chief stepping forward to address the
trappers.
"What the Pale-face chief has said is good," began the Indian. "His
words are wise, and his heart is not double. The Red-men are willing to
smoke the pipe of peace, and to hunt with all men as brothers, but they
cannot do it while many of their scalps are hanging in the lodges of
their enemies and fringing the robes of the warriors. The Peigans must
have vengeance; then they will make peace."
After a short pause he continued--"The chief is wrong when he says there
are Pale-faces in the Peigan camp. The Peigans are not at war with the
Pale-faces; neither have they seen any on their march. The camp is
open. Let the Pale-faces look round and see that what we say is true."
The chief waved his hand towards his warriors as he concluded, as if to
say, "Search amongst them. There are no Pale-faces there."
Cameron now spoke to Dick in a low tone. "They speak confidently," he
said, "and I fear greatly that your poor comrades have either been
killed or conveyed away from the camp and hidden among the mountains, in
which case, even though they should not be far off, it would be next to
impossible to find them, especially when such a band o' rascals is near,
compelling us to keep together. But I'll try what a little tempting
them with goods will do. At any rate we shan't give in without a
scuffle."
It now, for the first time, flashed across Dick Varley that there was
something more than he imagined in Crusoe's restless anxiety, which had
not in the least abated, and the idea of making use of him now occurred
to his mind.
"I've a notion that I'll settle this matter in a shorter time than you
think," he said hurriedly, "if you'll agree to try what _threatening_
will do."
The trader looked grave and undecided. "I never resort to that except
as a last hope," he answered, "but I've a good deal of confidence in
your prudence, what would you advise?"
Dick and the trader whispered a few minutes together, while some of the
men, in order to show the Indians how perfectly unconcerned they were,
and how ready for _anything_, took out their pipes and began to smoke.
Both parties were seated on the ground, and during this interval the
Indians also held eager discussion.
At length Cameron stood up, and said to his men in a quiet tone, "Be
ready, lads, for instant action; when I give the word `Up,' spring to
your feet and cock your guns, but _don't fire a shot till you get the
word_." He then stepped forward and said--
"The Peigan warriors are double-tongued; they know that they have hid
the Pale-face prisoners. We do not wish to quarrel, but if they are not
delivered up at once, the Pale-faces and the Peigans will not be
friends."
Upon this the Indian chief again stood forward and said, "The Peigans
are _not_ double-tongued. They have not seen Pale-faces till to-day.
They can say no more."
Without moving hand or foot, Cameron then said in a firm tone, "The
first Peigan that moves shall die! Up, lads, and ready!"
In the twinkling of an eye the trappers sprang to their feet, and
cocking their rifles stood perfectly motionless, scowling at the
savages, who were completely taken by surprise at the unusual suddenness
and informality of such a declaration of war. Not a man moved, for,
unlike white men, they seldom risk their lives in open fight; and as
they looked at the formidable row of muzzles that waited but a word to
send instant death into their midst, they felt that discretion was at
that time the better part of valour.
"Now," said Cameron, while Dick Varley and Crusoe stepped up beside him,
"my young warrior will search for the Pale-face prisoners. If they are
found, we will take them and go away. If they are not found, we will
ask the Peigans to forgive us, and will give them gifts. But in the
meantime, if a Peigan moves from the spot where he sits, or lifts a bow,
my young men shall fire, and the Peigans know that the rifle of the
Pale-face always kills."
Without waiting for an answer, Dick immediately said, "Seek 'em out,
pup," and Crusoe bounded away.
For a few minutes he sprang hither and thither through the camp, quite
regardless of the Indians, and snuffed the air several times, whining in
an excited tone, as if to relieve his feelings. Then he put his nose to
the ground and ran straight forward into the woods. Dick immediately
bounded after him like a deer, while the trappers kept silent guard over
the savages.
For some time Crusoe ran straight forward. Then he came to a spot where
there was a good deal of drifted snow on the ground. Here he seemed to
lose the trail for a little, and ran about in all directions, whining in
a most piteous tone.
"Seek 'em out, pup," repeated Dick encouragingly, while his own breast
heaved with excitement and expectation.
In a few seconds the dog resumed its onward course, and led the way into
a wild, dark spot, which was so overshadowed by trees and precipitous
cliffs that the light of the sun scarce found entrance. There were many
huge masses of rock scattered over the ground, which had fallen from the
cliffs. Behind one of these lay a mound of dried leaves, towards which
Crusoe darted and commenced scraping violently.
Trembling with dread that he should find this to be the grave of his
murdered companions, Dick rushed forward and hastily cleared away the
leaves. The first handful thrown off revealed part of the figure of a
man. Dick's heart beat audibly as he cleared the leaves from the face,
and he uttered a suppressed cry on beholding the well-known features of
Joe Blunt! But they were not those of a dead man. Joe's eyes met his
with a scowl of anger, which instantly gave place to one of intense
surprise.
"Joe Blunt!" exclaimed Dick in a voice of intense amazement, while
Crusoe sniffed round the heap of leaves, and whined with excitement.
But Joe did not move, neither did he speak a word in reply--for the very
good reasons that his mouth was tightly bound with a band of leather,
his hands and feet were tied, and his whole body was secured in a rigid,
immovable position by being bound to a pole of about his own length.
In a moment Dick's knife was out, bands and cords were severed, and Joe
Blunt was free.
"Thank God," exclaimed Joe with a deep, earnest sigh, the instant his
lips were loosened, "and thanks to _you_, lad," he added, endeavouring
to rise, but his limbs had become so benumbed in consequence of the
cords by which they had been compressed that for some time he could not
move.
"I'll rub ye, Joe--I'll soon rub ye into a right state," said Dick,
going down on his knees.
"No, no, lad, look sharp and dig up Henri. He's just beside me here."
Dick immediately rose, and, pushing aside the heap of leaves, found
Henri securely bound in the same fashion. But he could scarce refrain
from laughing at the expression of that worthy's face. Hearing the
voices of Joe and Dick Varley in conversation, though unable to see
their persons, he was filled with such unbounded amazement that his
eyes, when uncovered, were found to be at their largest possible
stretch, and as for the eyebrows, they were gone, utterly lost among the
roots of his voluminous hair.
"Henri, friend, I knew I should find ye," said Dick, cutting the thongs
that bound him. "Get up if ye can, we haven't much time to lose, an'
mayhap we'll have to fight afore we're done wi' the Red-skins. Can ye
rise?"
Henri could do nothing but lie on his back and gasp, "Eh! possible! mon
frere! Oh, non, non, _not_ possible. Oui! my broder Deek!"
Here he attempted to rise, but, being unable, fell back again, and the
whole thing came so suddenly, and made so deep an impression on his
impulsive mind, that he incontinently burst into tears; then he burst
into a long laugh. Suddenly he paused, and, scrambling up to a sitting
posture, looked earnestly into Dick's face through his tearful eyes.
"Oh, non, non!" he exclaimed, stretching himself out at full length
again, and closing his eyes; "it are too goot to be true. I am dream.
I vill wait till I am wake."
Dick roused him out of this resolute sleep, however, somewhat roughly.
Meanwhile Joe had rubbed and kicked himself into a state of animation,
exclaiming that he felt as if he wos walkin' on a thousand needles and
pins, and in a few minutes they were ready to accompany their overjoyed
deliverer back to the Peigan camp. Crusoe testified his delight in
various elephantine gambols round the persons of his old friends, who
were not slow to acknowledge his services.
"They haven't treated us overly well," remarked Joe Blunt, as they
strode through the underwood.
"Non, de rascale, vraiment, de am villains. Oui! How de have talk,
too, 'bout--oh-o-oo-ooo-wah!--roastin' us alive, an' puttin' our scalp
in de vigvam for de poopoose to play wid!"
"Well, niver mind, Henri, we'll be quits wi' them now," said Joe, as
they came in sight of the two bands, who remained in precisely the same
position in which they had been left, except that one or two of the more
reckless of the trappers had lit their pipes and taken to smoking,
without, however, laying down their rifles or taking their eyes off the
savages.
A loud cheer greeted the arrival of the prisoners, and looks of
considerable discomfort began to be evinced by the Indians.
"Glad to see you, friends," said Cameron, as they came up.
"Ve is 'appy ov de same," replied Henri, swaggering up in the joviality
of his heart, and seizing the trader's hand in his own enormous fist.
"Shall ve go to york an' slay dem all at vonce, or von at a time?"
"We'll consider that afterwards, my lad. Meantime go you to the rear,
and get a weapon of some sort."
"Oui. Ah! c'est charmant," he cried, going with an immense flounder
into the midst of the amused trappers, and slapping those next to him on
the back. "Give me veapon, do, mes ami--gun, pistol, anyting--cannon,
if you have von."
Meanwhile Cameron and Joe spoke together for a few moments.
"You had goods with you, and horses, I believe, when you were captured,"
said the former.
"Ay, that we had. Yonder stand the horses under the pine-tree, along
wi' the rest o' the Red-skin troop, an a hard time they've had o't, as
their bones may tell without speakin'. As for the goods," he continued,
glancing round the camp, "I don't know where--ah! yes, there they be in
the old pack. I see all safe."
Cameron now addressed the Indians.
"The Peigans," he said, "have not done well. Their hearts have not been
true to the Pale-faces. Even now I could take your scalps where you
sit; but white men do not like war, they do not like revenge. The
Peigans may go free."
Considering the fewness of their numbers, this was bold language to use
towards the Indians; but the boldest is generally the best policy on
such occasions. Moreover, Cameron felt that, being armed with rifles,
while the Indians had only bows and arrows, the trappers had a great
advantage over them.
The Indian who had spoken before now rose and said he was sorry there
should be any cause of difference between them, and added he was sorry
for a great many more things besides, but he did not say he was sorry
for having told a lie.
"But, before you go, you must deliver up the horses and goods belonging
to these men," said Cameron pointing to Joe and Henri.
This was agreed to. The horses were led out, the two little packs
containing Joe's goods were strapped upon them, and then the trappers
turned to depart. The Indians did not move until they had mounted; then
they rose and advanced in a body to the edge of the wood, to see the
Pale-faces go away. Meanwhile Joe spoke a few words to Cameron, and the
men were ordered to halt, while the former dismounted and led his horse
towards the band of savages.
"Peigans," he said, "you know the object for which I came into this
country was to make peace between you and the Pale-faces. I have often
told you so when you would not listen, and when you told me that I had a
double heart, and told lies. You were wrong when you said this; but I
do not wonder, for you live among nations who do not fear God, and who
think it right to lie. I now repeat to you what I said before. It
would be good for the Red-men if they would make peace with the
Pale-faces, and if they would make peace with each other. I will now
convince you that I am in earnest, and have all along been speaking the
truth."
Hereupon Joe Blunt opened his bundle of goods, and presented fully
one-half of the gaudy and brilliant contents to the astonished Indians,
who seemed quite taken aback by such generous treatment. The result of
this was that the two parties separated with mutual expressions of
esteem and good will. The Indians then returned to the forest, and the
white men galloped back to their camp among the hills.