RED WOLF.
To understand the facts we are now about to narrate, we must retrace
our steps a short distance, and return to the tent which served as a
temporary abode to the Count and Bright-eye.
The two white men were somewhat discontented by the way in which the
interview had terminated. Still the Count was too thorough a gentleman
not to allow, honourably, that on this occasion the Chief had been the
victor in magnanimity. As for Bright-eye, however, he could not see
so far. Furious at the check he had sustained, and especially at the
slight value the Chief appeared to set on his capture, he revolved the
most terrible schemes of vengeance while biting his nails savagely.
The Count amused himself for a few minutes in watching his comrade's
manoeuvres, as he walked up and down the tent, growling, clenching his
fists, dashing the butt of his rifle on the ground, and looking up to
heaven with comic despair. At last the young man could stand it no
longer, but burst into a hearty laugh. The hunter stopped in amazement,
and looked around the tent, to discover the cause for such untimely
gaiety.
"What has happened, Mr. Edward?" he at length asked, "Why do you laugh
so?"
Naturally this question, asked with a startled air, had no other result
than to augment the Count's hilarity.
"My good fellow," he said, "I am laughing at the singular faces you
cut, and the strange manoeuvres you have been indulging in during the
last twenty minutes."
"Oh, Mr. Edward!" Bright-eye said, reproachfully; "how can you jest so?"
"Why, my boy, you seem to take the affair seriously to heart, and
to have lost that magnificent confidence which made you despise all
dangers."
"No, no, Mr. Edward! you are mistaken. My opinion has been formed a
long time. Look you, I am certain these red devils will never succeed
in killing me; but I am furious at having been so thoroughly duped by
them. It is humiliating, and I am now racking my brains to discover a
way to play them a trick."
"Do so, my friend, and I would help you, were it possible; but, for the
present, at least, I am forced to remain neutral--my hands are tied."
"What?" Bright-eye said, with astonishment; "you mean to remain here,
and serve their diabolical jugglery?"
"I must, my good fellow; have I not pledged my word?"
"You certainly pledged it, and I do not know why. Still, a pledge given
to an Indian counts for nothing. The Redskins are tribes who understand
nothing about honour; and, in a similar case, I am certain that Natah
Otann would consider himself in no way bound to you."
"That is possible, although I am not of your opinion. The Chief is no
ordinary man. He is gifted with a great intellect."
"What good is it to him? None. Except to be more cunning and
treacherous than his countrymen. Take my advice, and do not stand on
any ceremony with him. Take French leave, as they say in the South, and
leave them in the lurch. The Redskins will be the first to applaud your
conduct."
"My good fellow," the Count said, seriously, "it is useless to discuss
the point; when a gentleman has once given his word, he is a slave to
it, no matter the person to whom he has given it, or the colour of his
skin."
"Very good, then, Mr. Edward, pray act as you think proper. I have no
right to thrust my advice on you. You are a better judge than myself of
how you are bound to act. So, be easy. I will not mention it again."
"Thank you."
"All that is very good, but what are we going to do now?"
"What we are going to do? I suppose you mean what are you going to do?"
"No, Mr. Edward, I said exactly what I meant; you understand that I am
not going to leave you alone in this nest of serpents, I hope!"
"On the contrary, you will do so directly."
"I?" the hunter said, with a loud laugh.
"Yes, you, my friend; you must."
"Bah! why so, pray, if you remain?"
"That is the very reason."
The hunter reflected for a moment.
"You know that I do not understand you at all," he said.
"Yet it is very clear," the Count answered.
"Hum! that is possible, but not to me."
"What, you do not understand that we must avenge ourselves?"
"Oh, of course, I understand that, Mr. Edward."
"How can we hope to succeed, if you insist on remaining here?"
"Because you remain," the hunter said, obstinately.
"With me it is very different, my good fellow. I remain, because I have
given my word; while you are free to go and come, and must therefore
profit by it to leave the camp. Once in the prairie, nothing can be
easier for you than to join some of our friends. It is evident that
my worthy Ivon, coward as he fancies himself, is working actively at
this moment for my deliverance; so see him, come to an understanding
with him, for though it is true I cannot leave this place, I cannot, on
the other hand, prevent my friends liberating me; if they succeed, my
parole will be suspended, and nothing will hinder my following them. Do
you understand me now?"
"Yes, Mr. Edward; but I confess that I cannot make up my mind to leave
you alone, among these red devils."
"Do not trouble yourself about that, Bright-eye; I run no danger by
remaining with them; they have too much respect for me; besides, Natah
Otann well knows how to defend me, should it be needful. So, my friend,
start at once. You will serve me better by going, than by insisting on
remaining here, where your presence, in the event of danger, would be
more injurious than useful to me."
"You are a better judge than I in such a matter, sir; as you insist on
it, I will go," the hunter said, with a mournful shake of his head.
"Above all, be prudent, do not expose yourself to risk in quitting the
camp."
The hunter smiled disdainfully.
"You know," he said, "that the Redskins cannot harm me."
"That is true; I forgot it," the young man said, laughingly; "so,
good-bye, my friend, stay no longer, but go, and joy be with you."
"Good-bye, Mr. Edward; will you not give me a shake of the hand before
we part, not knowing whether we shall ever meet again?"
"Most gladly, for are we not brothers?"
"That is famous," the hunter said, joyfully, as he pressed the Count's
offered hand.
The two men presently separated. The Count fell back on the pile of
furs that served as his bed, while the hunter, after assuring himself
that his arms were in good condition, quitted the tent. With his rifle
under his arm, and head erect, he crossed the camp. The Indians did not
seem at all to trouble themselves at the hunter's presence among them,
and allowed him to depart unimpeded.
Bright-eye, when he had gone about two musket shots from the camp,
stopped, and began reflecting on what was best to be done to liberate
the Count; after a few moments' reflection, his mind was made up, and
he proceeded toward the squatter's settlement with that long trot
peculiar to the hunters.
When he reached the clearing, the squatter was holding a conference
with Ivon and the party sent by Major Melville. His arrival was greeted
with a hurrah of delight.
The North Americans were considerably embarrassed. Mrs. Margaret, in
spite of the exclusive details she had obtained about Natah Otann's
plans, and the movements of the Indians, had only made an incomplete
report to the Major, from the simple reason, that the old Sachems of
the Allied Nations kept their deliberations so secret, that Red Wolf,
despite all his cleverness and craft, had himself picked up but a
slight part of the plan the Chiefs proposed to follow. The scouts,
sent out in all directions, had brought in startling reports about the
movements of the Blackfeet; the Indians appeared resolved to strike
a grand blow this time; all the Missouri nations had responded to
Natah Otann's appeal; the tribes arrived one after the other, to join
the coalition, so that their number now attained four thousand, and
threatened not to stop then.
Fort Mackenzie was surrounded on all sides by invisible enemies, who
had completely cut off the communication with the other settlements of
the Fur Company, and rendered the Major's position extremely critical.
Thus the hunters were greatly perplexed; and during the many hours
they had been deliberating, they had only hit on insufficient or
impracticable means to relieve the fortress.
The White men have only succeeded in holding their own in Western
America by the divisions they have managed to sow among the aborigines
of the continent; whenever the latter have remained united, the
Europeans have failed, as witness the Araucanos of Chili, whose small
but valiant republic has maintained its independence to the present
day; or the Seminoles of Louisiana, who have only lately been conquered
after a desperate contest, carried on with all the rules of modern
warfare, and many other Indian nations, whose names we could easily
quote, if necessary, in support of our arguments.
This time the Indians seemed to have understood the importance of open
and energetic action. The several Chiefs had, ostensibly at least,
forgotten all their hatred and jealousies, to destroy the common enemy.
Thus the Americans, in spite of their approved bravery, trembled at
the mere thought of the war of extermination they would have to sustain
against enemies exasperated by a long series of vexations, when they
counted their numbers, and saw how weak they were, compared to the
warriors preparing to crush them. The council, interrupted for a moment
by Bright-eye's arrival, immediately assembled again, and the debate
was continued.
"By heaven!" John Black exclaimed, angrily, as he smote his thigh with
his fist, "I confess that I have no luck, everything turns against
me; hardly have I settled here, whither everything made me forebode a
prosperous future, than I am dragged, in spite of myself, into a war
with these vagabond savages. Who knows how it will end? It is plain to
me that we shall all lose our scalps. That is a pleasant prospect for a
man who is anxious to raise his family honourably by his labour."
"That is not the question at this moment," Ivon said; "we have to save
my master at all risks. What! you are all afraid to fight when it is
almost your trade? and you have done hardly anything else during your
lives; while I, who am known to be a remarkable coward, do not hesitate
to risk my scalp to save my master."
"You do not understand me, Master Ivon; I do not say that I am afraid
to fight the Indians; heaven guard me from fearing these Pagans, whom
I despise. Still, I believe that an honest and laborious man, like
myself, may be permitted to deplore the consequences of a war with
these demons. I know too well all I and my family owe to the Count,
to hesitate in hurrying to his help, whatever the result may be. The
little I possess was his gift, I have not forgotten it, and even were I
to fall, I would do my duty."
"Bravo! that is what I call speaking," Ivon replied, joyously; "I was
certain you would not hang back."
"Unfortunately," Bright-eye objected, "all this does not advance
matters much. I do not see how we can serve our friends. These red
devils fall upon us more numerous than locusts in June. We may kill
many of them, but in the end they will crush us by their weight."
This sad truth, perfectly understood by the auditors, plunged them into
dull grief, A material impossibility cannot be discussed; it must be
submitted to. The Americans felt an imminent catastrophe coming on, and
their despair was augmented by the consciousness of their impotence.
Suddenly the cry "To arms!" several times repeated outside, made
them bound on their seats. Each seized his weapons, and ran out. The
cry, which had broken up the conference, was raised by William, the
squatter's son.
All eyes were turned on the prairie, and the hunters perceived, with
secret terror, that William was not mistaken. A large band of Indian
warriors, dressed in their grand war paint, was galloping over the
plain, and rapidly approaching the clearing.
"Hang it!" Bright-eye muttered, "matters are getting worse. I must
confess that these most accursed Pagans have made enormous progress in
military tactics. If they continue, they will soon give us a lesson."
"Do you think so?" Black asked, anxiously.
"Confound it!" the hunter replied, "it is evident to me that we
are about to be attacked, I now know the plan of the Redskins as
thoroughly as if they had explained it to me themselves."
"Ah!" Ivon said, curiously.
"Judge for yourselves," the hunter continued; "the Indians intend to
attack simultaneously all the posts occupied by white men, in order to
render it impossible for them to help one another. That is excessively
logical on their parts. In that way they will have a cheap bargain of
us, and massacre us in detail. Hum! the man who commands them is a
rough adversary for us. My lads, we must make up our minds gaily. We
are lost, that is as plain to me as if the scalping knife was already
in our hair. All left to us is to fall bravely."
These words, pronounced in the cool and placid tone usual with the wood
ranger, caused all who heard them to shudder.
"I alone, perhaps," Bright-eye added, carelessly, "shall escape the
common fate."
"Bah!" Ivon said; "you, old hunter, why so?"
"Why?" he said, with a sarcastic smile, "because, as you are perfectly
aware, the Indians cannot kill me."
"Ah!" Ivon remarked, stupefied by this reason, and gazing on his friend
with admiration.
"That is the state of the case," Bright-eye ended his address, and
stamped his rifle on the ground.
In the meanwhile the Redskins advanced rapidly. The band was composed
of one hundred and fifty warriors at least, the majority armed with
guns, which proved they were picked men. At the head of the band, and
about ten yards in advance, galloped two horsemen, probably Chiefs. The
Indians stopped just out of range of the entrenchments; then, after
consulting together for a few minutes, a horseman left the group, and,
riding within pistol shot of the palisades, he waved a buffalo robe.
"Eh! eh! Master Black," Bright-eye said, with a cunning smile, "that
is addressed to you as the chief of the garrison. The Redskins wish to
parley."
"Ah!" the-American said, "I have a great mind to send a bullet after
that rascal parading down, as my sole answer," and he raised his rifle.
"Mind what you are about," the hunter said, "you do not know the
Redskins. So long as the first shot is not fired, there is a chance of
treating with them."
"Suppose, old hunter," Ivon said, "you were to do something?"
"What is it, my prudent friend?" the Canadian asked.
"Why, as you are not afraid of being killed by the Redskins, suppose
you go to them. Perhaps you could arrange matters with them."
"Stay! that is a good idea. No one can say what may happen. I will go.
That will be the best, after all. Will you accompany me, Ivon?"
"Why not?" the latter answered; "with you, I am not afraid."
"Well, that is settled, then. Open the gate for us, Master Black; but
keep a good lookout during our absence, and, on the first suspicious
movement, fire on these heathens."
"Do not alarm yourself, old hunter," the latter said, squeezing his
hand cordially; "I should not like any harm to happen to you, for you
are a man."
"I believe so," the Canadian said, with a laugh; "but what I say to you
is more for this worthy fellow's sake than mine, for I assure you I am
quite easy on my own account."
"No matter, I will watch these demons carefully."
"That can do no harm."
The gate was opened. Bright-eye and Ivon went down the hill, and went
toward the horseman, who was patiently awaiting them.
"Ah! ah!" Bright-eye muttered, as soon as he drew near enough to
recognize the rider; "I fancy that our affairs are not quite so well as
I suspected."
"Why so?" Ivon asked.
"Look at that warrior. Do you not see it is Red Wolf?"
"That is true. Well?"
"Well, I have reasons for believing that he is not so great an enemy as
he appears to be."
"Are you sure of it?"
"Silence! we shall soon see."
The three men saluted each other courteously in the Indian fashion, by
laying the right hand on the heart, and holding out the other open,
with the fingers apart and the palm turned outwards.
"My brother is welcome among his Paleface brothers," Bright-eye said;
"does he come to sit at the council fire, and smoke the calumet in my
wigwam?"
"The hunter will decide. Red Wolf comes as a friend," the Indian
answered.
"Good," the Canadian remarked; "did Red Wolf then fear treachery from
his friend, that he brought so large a body of warriors with him?"
The Blackfoot smiled cunningly.
"Red Wolf is a chief among the Kenhas," he said, "his tongue is not
forked. The words that pass his lips come from his heart. The Chief
wishes to serve his Pale friends.
"Wah!" Bright-eye said, "the Chief has spoken well. His words have
sounded pleasantly in my ears. What does my brother desire?"
"To sit at the council fire of the Palefaces, and explain to them the
reasons that bring him here."
"Good. Will my brother go alone among the white men?"
"No! another person will accompany the Chief."
"And who is this person in whom so great a Chief as my brother places
confidence?"
"The She-Wolf of the prairies."
Bright-eye suppressed a movement of joy.
"Good," he went on, "my brother can come with the She-Wolf. The
Palefaces will receive them kindly."
"My brother, the hunter, will announce the visit of his friends."
"Yes, Chief, I will go at once and do so."
The conference was over. The three men separated, after again saluting,
and Bright-eye and Ivon hurried back to the entrenchments.
"Victory!" the hunter said, on arriving, "we are saved!"
All pressed round him, greedy to learn the details of the conference,
and Bright-eye satisfied the general curiosity without a moment's delay.
"Ah!" Black said, "if the old lady is with them we are, indeed, saved,"
and he rubbed his hands joyfully.
After having failed so unluckily in the snare she had laid for Natah
Otann, Mrs. Margaret, far from being discouraged, felt her desire of
revenge increased; and, without losing time in regretting the check she
had undergone, she immediately drew up her plans, for she had reached
that pitch of rage when a person is completely blinded by hatred, and
goes onward regardless of consequences. Ten minutes after leaving the
Sachem, she quitted the camp, accompanied by Red Wolf, who, by her
orders, led off the warriors he commanded and started for the clearing.
Bright-eye had scarce given his friends the information they desired,
ere Margaret and Red Wolf entered the stockade, where they were
received with the greatest affability by the trappers, and especially
by Black, who was delighted to find that his clearing was not menaced,
and that the storm was turning from him to burst elsewhere.
Let us now return to Fort Mackenzie, where, at this very moment, events
of the utmost importance were occurring.