BILL BLAZE, THE "SNOLLIGOSTER."
At the very edge of the camp-fire lay two men, mutually clutching each
other, although hostile operations seemed, for the nonce, to have been
suspended. So near to the fire were they that one of them, without
relaxing his hold, had been able to give a log thereon a rousing kick
which had caused the light to flare up, thus enabling him to obtain
a fair view of the other. As Harry Winkle staggered into the circle
of light the two men loosened their grips, and with deliberation rose
to their feet, one of them returning to its sheath a knife, the other
dropping to the ground a hatchet.
"A'mitey Moses, but yer kim neah gittin' a crack across yer skull. What
yer want to steal dat hoss fur--eh?"
"Pompey, there war a nigger nigh onto goin' under about two minnits
ago, an' so yer had better not be axing fool's questions. How d'yer
s'pose I knowed whose hoss that war? The durned red niggers cleaned
me out, root an' branch, 'bout a week ago, an' cum clost to rizin'
my ha'r. I've bin trampin' on the back trace, an' when I cum acrost
a animile handy I wouldn't 'a' bin Bill Blaze ef I hadn't gone fur
him--'special arter what I met to-night. What yer doin' here? Last time
I see'd yer yer war on the Big Red with Cap. Le Compte."
"Hi! You t'ink so! Somebody mite 'a' bin hurt ef I hadn't'a' knowed
it was you when you talk; but dunno 'bout it's bein' dis chile. I's
not bin with dem Hudson Bay fellers sence dat winter when you got so
bad bit up wid dat grizzly. I's on my own hook now, an' takin' care o'
Mass'r Winkle. An' bress my soul, dar he am now!"
The speaker, who was an African of the unmitigated breed, caught sight
of Winkle standing upon the opposite side of the fire.
"Mass'r, dis yere am Mister Bill Blaze. I knows 'um well, an' he's a
fust-rate feller, ef he _war_ a-goin' fur yer hoss. Nussed him up when
he war tore all into leetle bits."
Winkle appeared to be somewhat recalled to life by this address of his
sable attendant; and turning, looked the man thus recommended full in
the face.
Blaze, once introduced, did not stand upon ceremony; but advanced
across the intervening space, extending his hand as he walked.
"Yes siree, I'm that identikle individool, Bill Blaze, jist frum
the mountings! I kin trap more beaver, eat more buffler, steal more
hoss-flesh an' raise more top-knots than any man frum here to the
Columby River. I'm a blarsted bulldorg an' a high-heeled snolligoster.
I kin lick my weight in b'ar's meat, an' my name's Bill Blaze. Waugh!"
"I've heard that name before," said Winkle, taking the offered hand,
"and you're welcome. I'm a little abroad just now, and don't feel like
my own self--for I've seen a ghost."
"Thunder! You look kinder skeery; but ghosts ain't nothin'. I've seen
more ghosts than any man a-trampin'. Had 'em for pards onc't. Fact.
Three on 'em an' myself camped in a shanty down on Black-horn Lick
fur nigh onto a month. There war a woman with her throat cut, an' a
half-breed with his brains stove in, an' his skulp a-danglin' ahind,
an' a black b'ar with his back bruk. The way they tore around that
'ere shanty war nasty. Why, down thar on that thar Lick, ghosts war as
plenty as ha'rs in yer head. An' yell? The catamounts got so 'shamed of
their own mule music they packed their trapsacks an' got. Yer couldn't
find a painter nigher ner fifty mile. No, stranger; don't talk to Bill
Blaze about ghosts, fur he's bin thar!"
Winkle appeared to be little moved by this address. His face still
bore marks of evident perturbation, and there was an absence of mind
depicted in his manner and actions that seemed to strike Blaze as
rather unwarranted. To some remark made he answered rather shortly;
but he accepted of the hospitalities offered him, so far at least as
to seat himself by the fire, and, in default of other entertainment,
entertained himself by the sound of his own voice.
"No, ghosts don't bother this hyar hoss. Nor red-skins nor grizzlies
neither. I kin trap more beaver, kill more b'ar, shoot straighter, run
quicker, jump further, lie faster, stampede more animiles, an' carry
more pelts than any bloody bulldorg ever invented. But, I'm the man
without luck. I've wrastled with the old boy fur thirty years; he's got
an under holt on me; but, I'm dead game, I am! Luck or no luck, I'll
hang like seventeen pair o' tongs and a last inch gamecock. Waugh!"
The negro listened to these announcements, if Winkle did not. He was
accustomed to this style of thing and had heard Blaze before.
"Mass'r Blaze, 'pears to me de bad luck ain't so mitey bad; I's
t'inkin it's toder way cl'ar. Any odder man 'ud bin gone under--dun
gone suah--ef he'd had de half what you's had to go tru. You's allers
a-sayin' you's nary luck, an' allers a-gittin inter de w'ustest kind o'
skrimdigers--an' still you am heah. What's de trouble now?"
"Wal, Pomp, I allow it's no luck as pulls me through, but just pure
grit and muskle in this huyer hoss. I war camped out in a bully old
spot last week; meat plenty, beaver to be had for the taken of 'em,
and every thing going along on a string. Didn't think thar was Injin
within twenty mile, an', blast me, ef they didn't cum down an' clear
us out quicker than the jerk of a dead deer's tail. Bob Short an' I
war thar together, you see, an' Bob struck all right, but they got my
old sorrel mare, an' all our provender, an' I just cum down from them
are mountings after a chase o' four days, poorer ner Job's turkey, an'
nothen left me but Slicer an' this huyer old shootin'-iron. An' this
huyer very blessed night, as I were movin' along promisc'us, thar war a
rifle-ball went _sizz_ a-past my head-piece, ad' I squatted an' see'd
two men a talkin', an' found that thar bit o' lead warn't meant fur me
an' while I war a-listenin', _sock_ cum somethin' right acrost me, an'
hove a yell wuss ner forty catamounts fitin' in a small box. I know'd
it war a copper-belly an' clinched. We hed it, pull an' hug a bit,
an' then I got Slicer out. That thar red-skin won't cum a-pryin' an'
a-peerin' down along Back Load Trace soon ag'in. Nary; not much; waugh!"
The story of the trapper began to interest Winkle; he thought less
and less of the ghost; he descended from the clouds and listened with
earnestness to what the man was saying. He thought of the corpse that
Martin and he had seen drifting down the stream, and believed that the
Indian would _not_ come prying and peering in that neighborhood soon
again. Perhaps, too, this man might be of service to him? At any rate
it would do no harm to meet him cordially.
"Then you are the man who had the tussle over there with an Indian? I
heard the yell, saw him shoot into the stream, and went across to see
what it was about. I was following your trail, when I came across a
sight, or rather a sight came across me, that unhinged my nerves. But,
how came the difficulty with the Indian? What was he doing there? Is
there danger from others that should be specially guarded against?"
"Yes, siree, I'm the man! The diffikilty perobably arove from his not
keepin' both eyes peeled. He was so bent on hearin' that he couldn't
take time to see, an' tumbled onto a hornet's nest. He clinched right
in then by instink, an' as it war die dorg er eat the hatchet, I hed to
let it inte him, though I'd as ruther not. What he was a-doin' I dunno.
Injin deviltry are various. Thar oughtn't to be a red-skin within fifty
miles o' huyer. Thar may be a couple more on 'em or thar mayn't. What
they'd be arter I can't say. Martin ought to know'd ef thar war any,
an' I guess he's got his men out by this time a-lookin'."
"It will be best then to keep a bright look-out?"
"'Twouldn't be onsensible. Leastwise, though I don't think thar's
much danger, it won't hurt to keep one eye open, for I've found it
don't altogether gee right to be too confiding in this section with
anybody--white er red. I'd advise it. I'd advise it, partickler, arter
the talk I heard between you an' Martin. You see, I hain't any doubt
but what yer a good man an' a game man; but, supposin' he was to tell
it to some o' his cronies around here, an' one on 'em should be the man
yer after--I wouldn't put it a-past 'em to slip in here an' slide a few
inch o' steel in somewhar nigh yer jug'lar."
Winkle meditated some little time before he responded; then his words
dropped out slowly and distinctly.
"I am safe from any thing in that shape. It is no mere bravado on my
part when I say so, but a belief so settled that it must be true. I
bear a charmed life while that one other man lives. I have passed
through all straits during the past three years, and from desperate
encounters have come forth unharmed; from beds of deadly sickness have
come up sound and well. I have changed in that time wonderfully, and
the change was not for naught. I do most firmly believe that destiny
has something in store for me; till to-night I thought I knew what it
was. Now I am uncertain; but that it is something more than a stab in
the back or a chance shot in the _melée_ of a night attack I have no
doubt."
"That's all right. I only give my 'pinion on the matter, seein' as may
be I've tramped around here ruther more nor you hev. Jest keep yer
weather eye open--you an' Pomp here is all I mean. And ef any thing
_should_ turn up while I'm in shooting distance, yer kin kalkerlate
that Bill Blaze'll give yer a hint on it."
"Well, well," responded Winkle, "I am not likely to have much
dealings with any one hereabouts; but I begin to think my intentions
have deceived me. I have been lingering in this neighborhood for
several days; but I will do so no longer. To-morrow I will move on
westward--and perhaps, if you have nothing better, you could find it to
your interest to go along."
"That's my identikle name--Moovin'-west Blaze. But I'm steerin' in
toward the settlements to see if thar's anybody sich a blarsted fool as
to trust me fur an outfit. The season's jist commencing, an' ef I hev
any thing like nateral luck I kin pay 'em back when I cum in ag'in and
hev a few pelts in my sack."
"I can arrange that matter, I think," responded Winkle. "I have an
extra horse, and, in fact, nearly every thing you need. I was going on
to the trapping-grounds. Suppose you remain with me a couple days, and
if nothing turns up I will leave this region. If I should, however,
accomplish any of my aims, you shall have what you need anyhow."
"Durn my Trojan! I'm your man. I kin put in a week here, easy. Hev yer
seen Martin's head-quarters yit? If yer hevn't yer ought to call in on
him."
"No; I didn't know that I was so near to it. I have been near here for
some days--within ten or twelve miles perhaps--but I only came into
camp here to-night."
"Yer must go in then. Some on en 'em nosed ye out long ago, an' if yer
don't they may come playin' tricks on yer without sayin' any thing to
Dick. Maybe ye kin git some hints of what yer arter down thar."
"You are right. It may be as well to look a little in that direction.
I've hardly been systematic in my plan of procedure. That comes,
though, of trusting to chance and drifting in the direction Fate seems
to call me. And, by the way, are there any females with the party?"
"Wal, to-morrer morning early will be time enuff to talk it over. I'm
goin' to turn in now and git a snooze. I've had a blarsted long tramp
to-day, and them legs o' mine ain't exackly a steam injine--though,"
by way of a saving clause, and to prevent the idea of any derogatory
admission, "I'm a bloody, blarsted bull-dog and a high-heeled
snolligoster on wheels."
To make arrangements for the night occupied but a short time; and soon,
wrapped in a blanket of Winkle's, Blaze was wooing
"Sleep that knits up the raveled sleeve of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
Chief nourisher in life's feast,"
while silence and darkness reigned around.