STEP HEN MAKES A CAPTURE.
"Wow! it's a regular attack! Keep hold of your guns, boys, and make
every bullet count!" whooped the excited Giraffe.
"Don't anybody fire a single shot without orders!" roared Thad, who
could never tell what such a fly-up-the-creek as Giraffe was capable
of doing, once he got started.
The guide led the way toward the spot where Step Hen still continued
to shout and entreat. All of the boys had seen fit to arm themselves.
Even Smithy, who had no gun, had seized upon the camp hatchet, and
imagined himself looking exceedingly warlike as he trotted along in
the wake of his comrades, making violent passes in the air, as though
cutting down imaginary enemies by the score.
They thus came upon Step Hen; and sure enough he was clinging to the
back of an Indian, both arms being twisted desperately around the
latter's dusky neck in a way that threatened to choke the other. Step
Hen may never have read about the way the Old Man of the Sea clung to
Sinbad the Sailor, using both arms and legs to maintain his hold; but
Thad thought, when he had his first glimpse of the picture, that at
any rate the scout was a good sticker.
But then the Indian did not seem to be doing anything on his part to
ward off the attack; indeed, he was standing there, bearing his burden
with that stoical indifference peculiar to his race. There was no
smile on his sober face that Thad could see; but he imagined that the
Indian must surely appreciate the ridiculous nature of the situation.
"All right, Step Hen," Thad called out, when he could make himself
heard above the tremendous racket the other was putting up; "we're
here to save you, guns and all. You can let go your grip, Step Hen!"
"But you won't let him get away, will you, Thad?" pleaded the other,
earnestly. "He's my Injun, don't you know; I captured him all by
myself. I just bet you now he was meanin' to hook my hat, that's what
brought him to the creek; but I jumped on him, and took him by
surprise. Surround him, fellers, while I let him loose. My! but he's a
tricky one, I tell you; pretended never to fight back a bit; but he
was only watching for his chance. He didn't know who had hold of him,
and that I was on to his game, all right."
"Stop talking, and let him go; you're half choking him, Step Hen!"
ordered the patrol leader.
And knowing that Thad meant business when he used his official tones,
Step Hen suddenly released his clutch, and jumped back, just as if he
really expected his late captive to whirl and attack him.
But nothing of the kind occurred. In fact, the Indian continued to
show the utmost indifference to the fact that a ring of eager faces
surrounded him; and that guns of various makes and kinds were thrust
out at him, until the circle seemed to fairly bristle with a warlike
atmosphere.
Thad saw the Indian raise his right hand, holding the palm toward
them, and keeping the thumb flat at the same time.
"That's the peace sign!" muttered Toby Smathers; "he ain't lookin' for
trouble, I reckons, boys."
"Huh! he better not," grunted Giraffe, who had been amusing himself
meanwhile in raising and lowering the hammer of his heavy rifle, as
though he must have something going in order to work off his
nervousness. "Why, we could eat him alive, and then not half try. Ten
to one is mighty heavy odds, let me tell you. And no wonder he holds
out the white flag. It's easy to surrender when you ain't got a show.
But I'd go slow about trusting him, Thad; these here Injuns, I've
heard, are a treacherous lot, take 'em as a whole."
"Keep still, Giraffe!" said the scoutmaster, sternly; "let me do the
talking," and the tall scout became mute, for the time being at least;
though it was hard to keep him any length of time in that condition.
Thad had already made a discovery. The moonlight fell upon the Indian,
who now stood there with his arms folded, his whole attitude one of
studied indifference; and it struck the patrol leader that there was
something very familiar about him.
"Allan, isn't he the young brave we saw hovering around our camp
before, and who wouldn't stop to be questioned?" he asked, turning to
the Maine boy.
"I was just thinking of that myself when you spoke, Thad," came the
ready answer.
"I wonder, now, why he keeps on hanging after us," the scoutmaster
remarked. "And I'm going to ask him first of all."
With that he turned to the prisoner, and went on to say:
"Can you understand; do you know what I am saying?"
"Yes, can speak same, all right," came the answer, in pretty fair
English.
"Well, we want to know why you are hanging about our camp so much.
Once before we saw you, and tried to talk with you, but you moved off.
Now, away up here in the mountains you come again, sneaking around,
and taking chances of being shot for a prowling wolf. Tell us why you
do this? I don't believe you meant to steal anything because you've
made no attempt to creep into the camp; but we want to know just why
you hang around this way."
"Make come back more two, three times, look at teepee, see fine
picture there. Never see like before. Much good! Ugh! P'raps sell
same, bimeby, when go back!"
"What under the sun does he mean by that talk, Thad? Sure we ain't in
the picture selling business, even if I am taking some dandy
snapshots. I wonder, now, has he seen me at work; does he think I'm a
traveling photograph man, and wants me to strike him off, in his
warpaint and feathers?"
Davy Jones managed to say all of this, but no one was paying much
attention to his remarks.
"Tell you what, fellers," broke in the irrepressible Giraffe, just
then; "he's taken a shine to our tents, and wants to buy one when
we're done with 'em. Knows a good thing when he sees it, he does.
Just as if we'd let 'em go for a song, when they're cram full of
associations for us."
"You're not on to it yet, boys;" remarked Thad, quietly; "it's the
head of the fox which we had painted so cleverly on each tent that's
caught his eye; and he just can't help hanging around, to keep on
gazing at it, for some reason or other."
For the first time they saw a sign of emotion flit across the face of
the young Indian brave. He struck himself violently on the chest.
"Me Fox!" he exclaimed, proudly. "Soon me must have teepee for self.
See picture fox on same, think can buy. Give much pelt for same. Ugh!
what white boy say?"
"Well, just to think of it, here's another Fox, all right?" called out
Giraffe. "We're treading on his heels, so to speak, boys, when we take
that name for our patrol. Glad to meet up with you; and by the way are
you Silver Fox, Red Fox, or Black Fox; though to be sure they all
belong to one family?"
"I thought I ought to know him," burst out Aleck Rawson, pushing
forward, "and now I'm dead sure of it. Hello! Fox, you sure must
remember me, Aleck; and the good times we used to have, when I lived
close to the Reservation?"
The young Indian extended his hand without hesitation.
"No forget Aleck, not much. But him not with other white boys down in
big timber. Where come by? How do? Much glad see again. My coyote
pony, Flicker, yet in the run. Ugh! Shake!"
"He means a pony I gave him when we came away from that place,"
explained Aleck, turning to Thad after gravely shaking hands with the
Indian. "The Fox is a Crow, and one of the smartest boys you ever saw.
He can do everything that a grown warrior could; and some day they say
he will be a chief in his tribe. We used to have great times racing
our ponies, and chasing coyotes over the prairie. And I'm right glad
to see him once more; though it puzzles me to know why he is up here,
so far away from the homes of his people; and armed, too."
"Well, if he's an old friend of yours, Aleck, and you can vouch for him,
why, of course he's going to be welcome at our fire. And it tickles me
to think that the bright painting of the fox head on each of our tents
was what attracted his eye, so that he just _couldn't_ keep from hanging
around at that other time. But surely that didn't draw him away up here;
he's got some other business in his head; for he only discovered our
camp just now, and was coming in to see us, I reckon, when Step Hen
mounted his back, and then called to us to help him."
"Anyway, I had him gripped good and tight, you all saw," grumbled
Step Hen. "When these good husky arms of mine get locked around
anything, it takes a heap to break me away. If he had been a hostile
Injun I'd a hung on like grim death, believe me."
No one ventured to try and take away any of his laurels. He had
certainly yelled for help in a way that could not easily be excelled,
they all thought.
Thad led the way to the fire, after inviting the Indian to join them.
He confessed to having just a little curiosity himself as to what had
caused the Fox to desert the teepees of his tribe, and wander so far
away from the reservation; but of course Thad knew better than to ask
about the personal affairs of the other. If the Fox chose, later on,
to take them into his confidence, well and good. He might only stay
with them for a night, and then slip away; but since he was Aleck's
friend, and seemed to be connected with the great family of Foxes, of
which they were a Boy Scout branch, why, he would be welcome.
As the Indian confessed that he had not broken his fast since noon,
when he had munched a handful of dried deer meat, known as pemmican,
some of the boys took it upon themselves to cook something for him. He
appeared to be very grateful, and could be seen to sniff the air
eagerly while the coffee was boiling; showing that he appreciated the
white man's drink at its true value; for his people on the
reservation enjoyed many of the comforts of civilization, and some of
the luxuries, too, even to pianos that played themselves, and boxes
that sang songs, and played the violin, and gave all sorts of
orchestral music, so Aleck observed.
And while the boys talked on various subjects, as they sat around,
Thad happened to be watching the face of the Fox when one of the
scouts casually mentioned the name of Colonel Kracker. He actually saw
the dark face grow stern, and that the Indian ground his teeth
together, as if in anger.
Seeing which Thad put things together, and came to a conclusion,
whether right or wrong, of course he could not yet say.
"He knows Kracker, for he started when Davy mentioned the name," Thad
was saying to himself. "And the chances are that the prospector has
done something to injure the Fox, or some member of his family. These
Indians hate savagely; and perhaps this young fellow, hardly more than
a boy, has taken to the warpath, bent on having a settlement with the
big bully. Well, it isn't any of our business; but I know I'd hate to
have the Fox camping on _my_ trail, with hatred burning in his heart."