HENRY'S STRANGE DISCOVERY
"Uncle Jim, I didn't like the looks of those Indians at all," said
Henry, after the red men were out of sight.
"Oh, they didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary," answered
James Morris. "They've got a pretty big bundle of skins with 'em."
"Perhaps they stole the skins. To me they looked like Indians who
couldn't be trusted."
"I'll question them closely when they come in again, Henry. I certainly
want no stolen skins, in trade or otherwise."
"Did you ever see those redskins before?"
"I believe I saw one of them last year, but where I can't remember.
They were about as dirty as any around here," added the trader. "I
wouldn't let them sleep here even if I knew it to be safe. I'd have the
place alive with vermin."
"It's queer how some of them hate a bath, especially in cold weather,"
said the youth, with a laugh. "Perhaps they think the dirt helps to
keep 'em warm."
The night was cold and clear. There was no moon, but the stars shone
brightly, so it was not as dark as it might otherwise have been. Only
a faint breeze was blowing, not sufficient to move the stark tree
branches of the great wilderness which surrounded the lonely post.
Ever since the last uprising of the Indians, Mr. Morris had made it a
point to have somebody on guard during the night. All the trappers who
remained at the post knew that such duty was expected of them, and that
they were doing it as much for their own protection as for the good
of others. Guard duty began at six in the evening and ended at six in
the morning, and the twelve hours were divided equally among whoever
happened to be at the post during that period of time.
Tony Jadwin was the first to do guard duty that evening, and it was
arranged that Henry should be the one to relieve him. But though free
from duty, Henry was not disposed to lie down, and he wandered around,
from the stable to the general living room.
"Why don't you go to sleep, Henry?" asked his uncle. "You'll be tired
out when it comes your turn to go on guard."
"I don't feel a bit like sleeping, Uncle Jim. I'm as wide awake as an
owl."
"Better lie down, anyway. It's a good night for sleeping."
"I can't get those Indians out of my mind," went on the youth.
To this James Morris did not answer, and presently Henry left the main
building of the post and walked back to the stable, to get a pair of
gloves which he had forgotten.
As he passed the horses one of the animals gave an uncertain snort, as
of fear. The youth stopped by his side and patted him.
"What is it, Nelson?" he asked softly.
But the horse could not answer and merely rubbed his nose against
Henry's face. The youth patted him again and then passed on, secured
the gloves, and prepare to leave the stable.
"Guess I'll take a look at that bundle of skins," he said to himself.
"It won't do any harm to turn it over and see what it looks like."
Henry's experience as a hunter and trapper had given him a good idea
of the value of hides and furs, and James Morris often appealed to him
when in doubt over a certain skin that was offered in trade. He had
seen a peculiar looking skin sticking from the end of the bundle and he
wondered what it was and if it was of great value.
On his journey to the stable, the youth had carried a lantern,--a big,
old-fashioned affair,--and this was still in his hand. Coming to the
storeroom door he flashed the rays of the light inside.
What he saw caused him to start back in amazement, and for the moment
he could not believe the evidence of his senses. The bundle was moving!
Henry stared for several seconds and as he did this he saw the hand
of an Indian come forth from the bundle and clutch at one of the thin
rawhides which held the skins together. Then he discovered that the
foot of an Indian was sticking out of the other end of the bundle.
The perils of the wilderness, and of army life, had taught Henry to act
quickly in case of an emergency, and setting down the lantern, he drew
his hunting knife and rushed forward.
"Stop right where you are, you skunk!" he cried. "Don't dare to move
another inch, or I'll stick you with this!" And as he uttered the words
he let the point of the sharp hunting knife fall on the back of the
Indian's hand.
There was a disappointed grunt from inside the bundle, and the hand was
pulled back several inches. Henry had caught the rascal inside in the
very act of liberating himself.
Stepping to the storehouse doorway the youth blew upon a whistle he
carried. It was the signal that something was wrong, and in a moment
Tony Jadwin came running to the spot.
"What's up, Henry?" he cried.
"I've got a prisoner. Collared him bound hand and foot too," and the
youth had to smile at his own little joke.
"A prisoner? Where?" quickly asked James Morris, who was behind Jadwin.
"Here, in the bundle, Uncle Jim. I knew all along that those Indians
couldn't be trusted."
"In the bundle--what do you mean?"
"There's a redskin in this bundle. I caught him in the very act of
trying to get out."
"It must be a plot to capture the post!" ejaculated James Morris.
"Jadwin, get back to the stockade at once, and fire on the first
redskin who shows himself!"
"Shall I go, too?" asked Henry.
"Yes. I'll take care of this rascal, and then I'll join you," answered
the trader.
Waiting to hear no more, the youth ran for the main building of the
trading-post and secured his rifle, and also an extra rifle and a
pistol. Tony Jadwin was equally armed, and each ran for a corner of the
inclosure.
"We'll have some hot work cut out for us, if an attack comes," said the
old trapper. "Reckon as how that redskin meant to kill us while we
slept, or throw open the gates on the sly."
"You're right, Tony. I wish the rest of the men were back. Wouldn't it
be a good idea to fire a signal for them?"
"It ain't likely they are in sound o' a gun, lad."
No more was said, and each took his place at the palisade and gazed
through one loophole and another anxiously. All was quiet outside and
not a single human being was in sight.
A quarter of an hour passed, and then James Morris joined his nephew,
carrying several loaded guns and pistols.
"Well?" he questioned, laconically.
"Haven't seen anybody yet," answered Henry.
"I tied that rascal up good and hard," said the trader.
"What did he have to say for himself?"
"He tried to worm out of it by saying he was drunk yesterday and his
friends must have tied him in the bundle for fun while he was sleeping.
He professes to be friendly and says he will fight the others for
playing such a trick on him."
"Do you believe such a yarn, Uncle Jim?"
"No, and I told him so. If any of those redskins appear don't let them
get too close."
James Morris went off, to interview Tony Jadwin. He was gone but a
minute when Henry saw something dark moving cautiously along a mass of
brushwood down near the brook.
"An Indian, I'll wager a shilling," he murmured to himself, and raised
his rifle. "More than likely he is waiting for a signal from the rascal
we caught." And in this surmise the youth was correct.
The Indian outside passed behind some trees and was followed by a
second red man and presently a third. Henry gave a low whistle, which
brought his uncle to the spot once more.
"Saw three of 'em," said he. "They are back of yonder trees. It is too
dark to get much of a look at 'em."
"Tony saw two," answered the trader. "Henry, I am afraid we are in for
it," he continued, seriously. "Had you not found that rascal in the
bundle we might have all been murdered by this time."
"I wish there was some way of letting the others know how we are
surrounded."
"There is no way just now. One of us might try to go out toward
sunrise--if we can keep them off that long. I presume they are waiting
anxiously to hear from the fellow we have captured."
"To be sure. I think--There is another, and he is coming pretty close!"
added Henry, excitedly.
"Wait--I'll talk to him. There is no use of our keeping silent any
longer," said James Morris. He raised his voice. "Hold, there!" he
shouted. "What do the red men want around this post at this hour of the
night?"
The Indian addressed was evidently taken by surprise, for he stood
stock still for fully a minute before replying.
"Who calls to Rain Cloud?" he asked at last.
"I call, the owner of this place," answered the trader. "This is no
hour for coming here, and Rain Cloud knows it."
"Rain Cloud would speak to his white brother," said the Indian,
smoothly.
"What about?" and there was a peculiar sharpness in James Morris' voice
as he spoke.
Again the red man hesitated before answering.
"Rain Cloud and two of his warriors come for aid. A white hunter is
sick in their camp."
"Who is it?"
"Rain Cloud knows not his name. He has eaten of some bad meat and is
very sick. He must have medicine or he will die. He begged Rain Cloud
to come to you for aid."
"Don't you believe him!" whispered Henry. "It's another yarn, Uncle
Jim."
"If Rain Cloud wanted help why did he not come alone?" questioned the
trader.
"Rain Cloud is alone," answered the Indian.
"It is a lie--Rain Cloud had many of his warriors with him. We have
seen them--hiding behind the trees and rocks. What is more, we have
captured one of Rain Cloud's men--he who thought to play the fox in the
bundle of skins."
At this there was a murmur of rage from the Indian, a murmur that was
taken up by others who had heard the conversation. They now knew why
they had not received the signal agreed upon.
"Then my white brother will not give aid--will not open the gates?"
questioned Rain Cloud.
"I'll not open the gates to-night," answered James Morris. "And I want
Rain Cloud and his warriors to go away. He can come in the morning,
but he must come alone, and he can bring the sick man with him if he
will. Then, if all goes well, I will release the rascal I caught in the
bundle."
"My white brother will not give medicine now--will not let the warrior
in bundle go?"
"No."
"But if Rain Cloud attack post, what then? My white brother's warriors
are gone--he cannot fight. Better be friends with Rain Cloud and open
gates."
"If you start to fight we'll do our best to defend ourselves," answered
James Morris. "And, remember, at the first shot fired by you, the red
man who was in the bundle dies," he added, determinedly.