THE INDIAN TRADES BACK.
The Club were tired that night, as indeed they were every night, and
sought their blankets at an early hour. Uncle Dick had undisputed
possession of the little Sibley tent that was pitched on one side of
the fire; Frank, Perk, Walter, George and Bab bunked in the wagon;
Archie and his two friends slept under a brush “lean-to” which they
had erected for their own especial benefit; and the trappers passed
the night wherever they happened to be sitting or lying when sleep
overpowered them. On this particular night Dick and old Bob sat up and
smoked after all the rest of the party had retired—indeed until they
had all fallen asleep except Archie.
The latter thought as much of his new horse as he had thought of his
first pair of skates, which he found in his stocking on a certain
Christmas morning when he was about eight years old. For a week or
two after those skates appeared he never went to bed without placing
them on a chair close by, so that they would be the first things his
eyes rested on when he awoke in the morning. He would have been glad
to do the same by the horse, but as he could not, he contented himself
with lying awake and thinking about him; and thus it happened that
he overheard some conversation that was not intended for his ears,
and which was the means of bringing him a hard fall and a jumping
headache, which he had for an inseparable companion all the next day.
The conversation referred to took place between the trappers. The camp
had been quiet for an hour, and old Bob, supposing that everybody was
asleep, removed his pipe from his mouth long enough to say:
“I’m sorry the leetle ’un gin them blankets and things fur that
speckled hoss, ’cause he’s sartin to be jest that much out of pocket!”
“I know it,” replied Dick.
“I was kinder in hopes you’d tell him,” continued Bob.
“I thought of it, but what good would it a done? The Injun in course
sold him the hoss intendin’ to steal it agin, an’ we’d best let him
take it now, an’ without makin’ no fuss about it, an’ without his
hurtin’ the boy.”
“Wal, mebbe so,” said Bob.
“You see,” added Dick, “if he can’t steal him one time he will another.
If he can’t take him to-night, mebbe he’ll ketch the youngster alone
on the prairy to-morrer or next day, an’ knock him down an’ make off
with the hoss; an’ that would be sartin to raise a rumpus; ’cause if
that Injun’s head an’ the sights of my rifle should ever come in line
arterwards, the we’pon would go off whether I said so or not, an’ then
thar’d be one Injun less.”
“I know;” said Bob, “an’ mebbe its best as it is. Let the Injun have
his ole hoss, if he wants him.”
Archie listened in amazement to this conversation and caught every
word of it. He knew now why Dick was sorry that he had purchased
the horse. He remembered that the trappers had told him a dozen
stories illustrative of the propensity on the part of the noble red
man to drive a hard bargain in a horse trade, and after disposing of
a valuable animal for all he would bring, to steal him at the first
opportunity. He knew too why the Indian could not be prevailed upon to
sell the horse to any of the officers of the Fort. They were familiar
with all the tricks to which he and his kind were addicted, and the
horse, once in their possession, would be so closely guarded that he
could never get a chance to steal him again. But Archie was a stranger
to the prairie and its customs, and a boy besides, and the savage did
not think he would run any risk in trading with him.
“And he didn’t run any risk in dealing with me, either,” said Archie,
after he had spent a few minutes in thinking the matter over. “But he
will run some risk if he tries to steal that horse from me, as sure
as he is an Indian. I gave him all the boot he asked—it was a fair,
square and honest trade, and he must stand to it.”
Archie threw aside his blankets, drew one of his revolvers from its
holster and made his way quickly and cautiously toward the place where
his horse was picketed. He held his weapon in readiness to defend his
property, should occasion demand it, but there was no one there to
dispute possession of it with him—that is, there was no one in sight.
There was some one, however, crouching close by in the grass—some one
who saw all he did, and who followed behind him at a safe distance
as he led the horse away and made him fast to a sapling, which stood
in the outskirts of the camp and close beside the wagon. Having done
this, Archie removed his blankets, saddle and weapons from the cabin,
rearranged his bed under the wagon, and laid down almost within reach
of his horse, and in such a position that he could see the smallest
object that might attempt to approach him.
“Now, then,” said he, “if that Indian thinks he is smart enough to
steal this horse, I am ready to undeceive him. He would stand a much
better chance of getting him if he would return those articles I gave
him and tell me he wants to trade back. I’d rather give up the horse
than be obliged to stand guard over him night and day. But I’ll keep
him long enough to have at least one race with Frank, no matter what
happens.”
So saying, Archie settled himself into a comfortable position and
prepared to go to sleep, intending to wake in time to defeat the
Indian’s nefarious designs, if he had any. He knew that when savages
intend to make a descent upon a wagon-train, they come just before
daylight, for it is generally darkest then, the fires have burned low
and the emigrants sleep the soundest. It was about this time that
Archie wanted to wake up; and if he succeeded in doing so, he would
stand guard over his property until the whole camp was astir.
The excitement occasioned by the conversation he had overheard between
the trappers kept him awake for a long time, but sleep overpowered
him at last, and then Archie knew nothing for many an hour. The camp
fire, which Dick had mended once or twice during the night, had almost
died away, the moon was out of sight behind the hills, and the thick
darkness which the savage likes best was fast settling down over the
woods and surrounding prairie, when Archie suddenly became conscious
that there was something going on near him. A faint, rustling sound, as
if some one was trying to pass carefully through the bushes, aroused
him. Just then a burning ember from the log back of the fire fell off,
blazed up as brightly as a candle for a moment, and then went out,
making the camp and all surrounding objects look darker by contrast.
But Archie, whose eyes were wide open, had seen something in that
instant of time. He had seen an Indian crouching in a thicket close to
the root of the sapling to which his horse was tied.
Giving a loud yell to arouse the camp, Archie jumped to his feet,
and making a blind dive in the direction of his horse succeeded in
fastening upon the lasso with which he was tied to the tree. But it
happened that the lasso was no longer fast to the tree; it was in the
hands of the Indian, who, as active as a cat, sprang upon the horse
before the boy could come within reach of him. Archie quickly bracing
his feet gave the lasso a tremendous jerk, believing that if the savage
held fast to it, he could pull him to the ground again. No doubt he
would have accomplished his object had he had any one but an Indian to
contend with. The latter, much too cunning to be caught in any such
trap, allowed the lasso to run freely through his hands, and Archie
went staggering back against the wagon wheel. Before he could recover
himself the Indian dashed his heels into the sides of the horse, which
sprang away at the top of his speed, and Archie was thrown with great
violence to the ground; while the rawhide rope, which was still fast to
the horse’s neck, was drawn so rapidly through his hands that they were
burned almost to a blister. It was all over in much less time than we
have taken to tell it. Before any of the others, who had been awakened
by Archie’s loud yell, could come to his assistance, the Indian had
obtained possession of the horse and was out of sight in the darkness.
Then the members of the Club began to bestir themselves. Uncle Dick
pulled aside the door of the tent and looked out; Eugene and Fred, who
missed Archie as soon as their eyes were open, began groping blindly
for their rifles, under the impression that the camp had been attacked
by the Indians and their friend carried off by them; the boys in the
wagon quickly made their appearance; while Dick and Bob sat up and
stared at one another with an expression on their faces which said very
plainly that they had been expecting something of the kind.
“‘Like a snow-flake on the river, one moment seen, then lost forever,’”
murmured Archie, gazing in the direction his horse had last been seen.
“What’s the matter?” asked all the boys, in a breath.
“His speckled hoss is gone,” said Dick.
“Yes, he’s gone,” repeated Archie, holding his hands under his arms, as
if they were very cold instead of very warm, “and I am a few dollars
out of pocket.”
“Stolen!” cried the Club, beginning to comprehend the state of affairs.
They stood motionless and speechless for a few seconds, as people
almost always do when they hear any astounding piece of intelligence,
and then each boy looked at his neighbor to see what he thought about
it. Eugene, who had been bustling about the camp, in search of a certain
piece of his property which he could not find, was the first to speak.
“Well, that is not so bad as it might be,” said he. “Can anybody tell
me where to look for my bridle? We expected to have a race any how, you
know, and it might as well come off now as a few hours later. Let’s
follow him and make him give up the horse.”
“How are we going to do it?” asked Archie, dolefully.
“Why, are there not enough of us to take it away from him if he shows
fight?”
“Perhaps so,” said Frank, “but there are not enough of us to catch him.
He is safe by this time, and we’ll never put eyes on that horse again.”
The trappers said Frank was right; that an attempt to recover the lost
steed would only be time and energy wasted; and this put a stop to the
frantic search for saddles, bridles and weapons, in which some of the
Club were engaged. The pursuit and capture of a cunning Indian thief
would, the boys thought, be something to talk about in after days,
and they were loth to allow so fine an opportunity for distinguishing
themselves to pass unimproved. It was hard, too, to give up that fine
horse, of which they had expected such great things; but the trappers’
word was law, and the Club, with much grumbling, and many hearty wishes
that they might have the pleasure of meeting that Indian at some future
time, threw down their bridles and gathered about Archie to hear the
story of his encounter with the thief. When they had questioned him to
their satisfaction, and the palms of his hands had, at Uncle Dick’s
suggestion, been thickly coated with soap, they went back to their
blankets and finally fell asleep again.
Archie’s slumber was not very refreshing. He could not banish thoughts
of his lost horse, his head and hands throbbed, and when he managed to
catch a few winks of sleep, he dreamed of wild mustangs and fights with
Indians without number. By daylight his hands ceased to trouble him;
but his head reminded him of the hard fall he had received, and he did
not feel much like leaving his blanket. It required something, however,
much out of the ordinary run of events to wholly depress Archie’s
buoyant spirits; and when Dick reported to him that his old horse had
been found grazing with the others, he told himself that he was in
some slight degree recompensed for the loss he had sustained. While he
was washing his hands and face at the brook he was joined by Fred and
Eugene.
“Say, Archie,” whispered the former, looking all around to make sure
that none of the rest of the Club were within hearing, “Dick says he
saw those wild horses this morning.”
“Did he?” said Archie, not in the least interested in the matter,
although under almost any other circumstances Fred’s enthusiasm would
have affected him at once.
“Yes. Can’t you go out and catch one? We should like to see the
operation, and Dick says you are first rate with the lasso.”
“The colonel’s horse is among them, you know,” said Eugene. “If you
should happen to catch him you would make something by it.”
“But I couldn’t do it,” replied Archie. “If it were possible for
anybody to catch him he would have been returned to his owner long
before this time.”
“Well, we can go out and look at them, can’t we? We have never seen any
wild horses, you know.”
Yes, Archie thought they might take a look at them if they could find
them; so a very light breakfast was hastily dispatched, and the three
boys mounted their horses and rode off, telling their friends who
remained in the camp that they were going out to catch the colonel’s
horse, and that they were not coming back without him.
Before they had gone a hundred yards from the camp, Archie began to
wish he had not started at all. He could not help thinking of the
fleet, handsome animal that had carried him the last time he was in
saddle. His old horse—the one the Indian left when he stole the
other—was a shaggy, rough-looking fellow, but he was one of the best
the Club owned. He had been Archie’s almost constant companion ever
since he left Salt Lake City; had carried him safely during that long,
rapid gallop from the foot of the mountains to Fort Bolton, which had
been undertaken by the Club as soon as it was found that Walter was
missing, and the fact that he had borne the fatigue of the journey
better than any of the other horses, Frank’s alone excepted, had raised
him considerably in the estimation of his owner. But with all his good
qualities he had some bad ones, and the most noticeable one, just
now, was his rough, clumsy way of getting over the ground. Archie had
scarcely thought of it before, but having backed the Indian’s mustang,
which was a remarkably easy riding horse, he thought of it now, and
told himself that it was very disagreeable.
But one could not long remain in a gloomy frame of mind while he had
the fresh, invigorating air of the prairie to breathe, and two such
jolly fellows as Fred and Eugene for companions, and after he had been
half an hour in the saddle Archie began to feel more like himself.
Having as yet discovered no traces of the wild horses the boys began to
give up all hopes of finding them, and allowing their animals to settle
into a slow walk they rode side-ways, “woman fashion,” to relieve their
cramped limbs, and talked of the sports and adventures they had thus
far seen since leaving Bellville, and speculated upon those yet to
come. Finally, when the sun began to show himself above the hills, Fred
broke out into a song, in which the others joined, and the result of
which was rather surprising.
“‘The bright, rosy morning peeps over the hills,
With blushes adorning the meadows and rills;
While the merry horn calls come, come away,
O, wake from your slumbers and hail the new day.
“‘The stag roused before us away seems to fly,
And pants to the chorus of hounds in full cry.
Then follow the musical chase,
Where pleasure and vigor and health all embrace.
“‘The day’s sport, when over, makes blood circle right,
And gives the brisk——’”
“Listen! listen!” cried Archie, suddenly.
The boys brought their song to an abrupt ending, and drawing up their
horses gazed at one another with faces full of wonder.