"ALL, OR NONE!"
"GAME mine!"
When the dark-faced man in the fringed buckskin said these two words in
an angry tone, Roger felt something of a shock. He looked closer, and
realized that possibly the other hunter might _not_ be an Indian after
all, but one of those half-breeds who sometimes made their homes with
the tribes, and again sought the company of the whites, either English
or French.
"Oh! is that so?" the boy answered back, in a satirical tone; "well,
just prove it to me then, and I'll throw up my claim."
He kept his arrow fitted to the bowstring all the time, and aimed
directly toward the breast of the other. Should the necessity have
arisen he could have sped the shaft like lightning, even at such close
range, for it only requires one quick movement of the arm to do this.
The man pointed to the arrow that was just back of the fallen elk's
shoulder.
"Put there--in heart--bring game down every time!" he ejaculated, with
the most refreshing impudence imaginable, that made the boy looked
amazed, then furious, and finally laugh outright.
"Oh! is that your dodge, then?" he exclaimed. "You claim that as your
arrow, do you? Well, suppose you show me another just like it. Every
one of mine is tipped with eagle feathers, and made by the son of a
chief; while yours are lined with the quills of a wild gray goose. That
ought to be proof enough to settle the matter."
"My elk!" growled the other, with a glitter in his black eyes that
boded ill for the boy, should he be caught off his guard.
But Roger knew well that his cousin must by now have unhitched both
horses, and be hurrying up, intent on taking a hand in the affair, if
necessary. Besides, he was in the habit of looking out for himself in
such matters.
There is probably nothing that ever angered a borderer, young or old,
more, than to have his right and title to certain game he had shot
disputed by a rival claimant, when the evidence was all in favor of
the first hunter.
Many a fatal quarrel has been recorded in the history of the frontier
through this very same thing, where two men have crept up on their
quarry, unknown to each other, and fired at about the same time. Each
always rested under the belief that his missile was the one that
brought the game down; or, even if this were not so, that he could have
sent in a second shot which would have accomplished the end he had in
view.
But Roger was a fair and square sort of lad, also generous in the
extreme.
He could realize how keenly disappointed any one must be at finding
another just ahead when the final test came. It was his design to prove
his claim to the young elk, so that none could dispute it; and then
offer to divide.
"Listen to me," he said, trying to speak impressively. "We may have
crept up on the game at the same time; but I chanced to shoot first. My
arrow struck there, and entered the animal's heart. That was a fatal
wound. The beast had almost come to a full stop, and was staggering,
ready to drop, when I heard your bowstring twang. Besides, your arrow
entered in the body; and, as it was, without any other hurt, the elk
would have run far before dropping. You know that as well as I do. And
so it is my game."
"Ugh! better not try keep elk!" grunted the other, while his fingers
were seen to twitch as he gripped his bow; but he had not taken time
to fit another arrow after letting loose, and so the white boy had a
decided advantage over him, which those restless black eyes had not
failed to note.
"Now, I'll tell you what I'd be willing to do, because I know how hard
it is to go through all that work of creeping up, and then lose the
game. I've proved that my arrow killed the elk; but I'm willing to go
halves with you! How does that suit?"
When Roger said this he knew Dick was coming, and that, as he
undoubtedly would be holding his rifle ready in his hands, he could
make quick use of it should the necessity arise. So that it was
certainly not fear that induced him to offer to hand over half of the
game to the rival claimant.
But apparently the dark-faced man was not the kind to appreciate such
generosity. With him it was a matter of all, or none. He knew well
that by rights he had no sort of claim to the game, but hoped to bully
the boy into abandoning his just claims.
"My game!" he replied doggedly; "see first, and shoot before same
fall. What business you have here in hunting land of Shoshones? If I
tell chief, Running Antelope, he soon find, and have scalp hanging in
wigwam!"
"Oh! I guess not," remarked Roger, thinking that it might be best to
let this other, who must be friendly with the hostile Indians, believe
that he and Dick were only the forerunners of a large party; "for my
friends would come up in numbers, and burn the village of Running
Antelope, if he so much as injured a hair on my head. But here is my
hunter companion; let us see what he says."
When the half-breed turned his head, and saw what a well-armed fellow
Dick was, as well as noted the look on his face, he drew back a step,
as though realizing that his absurd claim on the quarry would never
have a ghost of a show at making good. If one white boy could not be
browbeaten, there was little chance that he could bully a pair of them.
"What's all this about, Roger?" asked Dick, as he jumped from his
horse, rifle in hand, and pressed the weapon of his cousin into the
other's willing hands; for, after all, a gun felt much better than a
bow, when there was need for action.
"Settle this matter, Dick," observed the young hunter, eagerly. "I shot
first, and you can see my arrow sticking just back of the shoulder. It
must have reached a vital place, for the beast was just staggering,
ready to fall, when I heard his bowstring sound--and you can see where
he struck. That elk would have run one or two miles with a hurt through
the body like this; because we have seen deer do the same. Am I right,
Dick?"
"Every word of it is the truth, Roger," replied the other, quietly, but
at the same time positively.
"And," Roger went on, "you can see whose arrow it is that did the
business, Dick; because mine are feathered with eagle plumes, while his
all have the gray goose quills fastened on the shaft, circling it so as
to give the arrow a whirling motion as it passes through the air."
"The proof is everything that any honest man would ask to back up your
claim," Dick continued; "but what were you offering to do when I came
up? I heard him say that it was his game, and saw him shake his head as
if he refused an offer."
"Why, I didn't want to be stingy about it, and offered to share and
share alike with him," replied Roger. "That was fair enough, since the
whole of the game belongs to me by the law of the woods."
"I should say it was," his cousin exclaimed, turning again to the
half-breed, who stood there, moodily listening to this talk, and
shooting black looks at the pair of white boys.
"And then he started to threaten me, saying that if he carried the news
of our being here in the land of the fierce Shoshones to their big
chief, Running Antelope, he would come with his braves, and make us
prisoners, so that our hair would hang in the lodges of the Indians.
That's a nice way to answer a fellow, Dick, when he makes an offer like
that. It was just like a slap in the face."
"Just so, Roger; and for one I think you ought to take it back, after
the way he answered you," Dick went on, frowning at the dark-faced man.
"He says all or none, does he? Very good, let it be none, then. We can
use this young elk nicely, and you earned the prize. I never saw a
better stalk in my life."
"And," remarked Roger, still meaning to impress the half-breed with the
idea that they were only the skirmishers of a large party of whites
that was advancing up the Missouri, "some of the rest of our friends
would be glad of a chance to put their teeth into such tender juicy
meat as this, eh, Dick?"
Of course Dick guessed instantly what object his cousin had in making
such a queer remark, but he was too wise to say anything to the
contrary. In fact he thought so well of the little scheme himself that
he smiled, and nodded his head as he remarked:
"Well, I should think they would, Roger; anybody'd like a meal of such
tender meat. And now, who may you be? I don't suppose your name is
Lascelles, is it?" and he turned upon the half-breed as he asked this
sudden question.
A flash of intelligence, when that name was mentioned, passed over the
dark face of the other; but he shook his head in the negative.
"Not Lascelles. Know same though. Name Batiste Dupuy. Trapper,
trader, voyageur from the North. Friend of Running Antelope, and the
Cheyennes. They give right to hunt, trap all through this country.
Paleface boys no business shoot elk. My game! Must have all or none.
Ugh!"
If his name was Batiste Dupuy, as he claimed, the half-breed must have
lived a good part of his life among the redmen, for he had copied many
of their ways. His knowledge of English seemed rather meagre, for he
could hardly find suitable means whereby to express himself; for, while
he spoke, he made many violent gestures, that were intended to add
vigor to his few words.
"Then make up your mind you're going to have none," said Roger, now
growing angry himself at the arrogance of the fellow. "If you want your
arrow, here it is; but not an ounce of the elk meat do you get."
He jerked the shaft feathered with the quills of the gray goose from
its lodging-place in the side of the dead elk, and handed it out toward
the other. The man condescended to take it, but immediately broke it
across his knee, as though by such violent means he expected them to
understand that he intended to be their inveterate foe from that time
forth.
"Go! Get out of this!" cried the impetuous Roger, pointing with his
quivering finger. "And just remember, Monsieur Dupuy, we have long
rifles here, and know how to drive a nail at thirty paces; so that, if
you try to do us any harm, it will be at your peril. That is all."
An Indian might have said, "I have spoken!" but Roger's way was just as
expressive, accompanied as it was by that sweep of the hand.
The man's eyes narrowed until they seemed to be mere slits, as
he glared at the bold young speaker. Then he flung his head in a
disdainful gesture, and remarked with a sneer:
"Never before did Batiste Dupuy take orders from a cub. Huh! wait
and see who laughs loudest. Mebbe Batiste, his hour will come soon.
Lascelles, you said?--it may be I know same; and he much glad to hear
of you! Sacre! that is all I say!"
With that he made them a mocking bow, showing that he surely had French
blood in his veins, and, whirling on his moccasined heel, strode
angrily away.
After going a certain distance he turned and looked toward them, as
if measuring the intervening space. Roger even thought he could see
him fitting an arrow to his bowstring and at once half raised his
rifle threateningly. If Batiste had intended trying a shot at them, he
speedily abandoned his idea when he saw how ready they were to send
their lead in his direction. He must have known that pioneer boys were
quite at home with their long-barreled guns, and could snip off the
swaying head of a wild turkey, buried in the earth to its neck, at the
annual shoots where the best marksmen came together to compete.
At any rate, he contented himself with shaking his fist in their
direction, and then moving away again.
"A good riddance to bad rubbish!" exclaimed Roger, though evidently
pleased to see the last of the ruffian.
"And we'd better be getting away from here as soon as we can," remarked
Dick, better able than his impulsive companion to understand what this
chance encounter, and the making of an enemy, might mean for them.
"But he knows that François Lascelles, Dick; you heard him say so!"
Roger remarked, as he started to fasten his horse, so that they could
cut up the game as speedily as possible, and ride away, one of them
meanwhile standing guard, so that the half-breed might not sneak up
close enough to use his bow on them.
"Yes, I guessed that he might, for they belong to the same class," the
other observed, thoughtfully. "Perhaps Lascelles has bought pelts from
this rover, and they may be the best of friends. And, if he knows that
the French trader is anywhere around here now, be sure he will try to
get word to him as fast as he can, to tell about our coming. And from
now on we will have to be on our guard every minute of the day and
night, looking for an attack from either the Indians, or the party of
the Frenchman. They did not seem to know just how many started out with
Lascelles and his son, but it must have been several."
"And of the same stripe as himself," remarked Roger, starting to take
the skin from the young elk with a skill that had been attained only
through long practice. "Remember what our fathers said, Dick; day and
night we must keep watch for the silent foe that would crawl up on us
unseen, and catch us napping!"