_A surprise, and a piece of good news--The fur-traders--Crusoe proved,
and the Peigans pursued_.
Dick's first and most natural impulse, on beholding this band, was to
mount his horse and fly, for his mind naturally enough recurred to the
former rough treatment he had experienced at the hands of Indians. On
second thoughts, however, he considered it wiser to throw himself upon
the hospitality of the strangers; "for," thought he, "they can but
kill me, an' if I remain here I'm like to die at any rate."
So Dick mounted his wild horse, grasped his rifle in his right hand,
and, followed by Crusoe, galloped full tilt down the valley to meet
them.
He had heard enough of the customs of savage tribes, and had also of
late experienced enough, to convince him that when a man found himself
in the midst of an overwhelming force, his best policy was to assume
an air of confident courage. He therefore approached them at his
utmost speed.
The effect upon the advancing band was electrical; and little wonder,
for the young hunter's appearance was very striking. His horse, from
having rested a good deal of late, was full of spirit. Its neck was
arched, its nostrils expanded, and its mane and tail never having been
checked in their growth flew wildly around him in voluminous curls.
Dick's own hair, not having been clipped for many months, appeared
scarcely less wild, as they thundered down the rocky pass at what
appeared a break-neck gallop. Add to this the grandeur of the scene
out of which they sprang, and the gigantic dog that bounded by his
side, and you will not be surprised to hear that the Indian warriors
clustered together, and prepared to receive this bold horseman as if
he, in his own proper person, were a complete squadron of cavalry. It
is probable, also, that they fully expected the tribe of which Dick
was the chief to be at his heels.
As he drew near the excitement among the strangers seemed very great,
and, from the peculiarity of the various cries that reached him, he
knew that there were women and children in the band--a fact which, in
such a place and at such a season, was so unnatural that it surprised
him very much. He noted also that, though the men in front were
Indians, their dresses were those of trappers and hunters, and he
almost leaped out of his saddle when he observed that "_Pale-faces_"
were among them. But he had barely time to note these facts when he
was up with the band. According to Indian custom, he did not check his
speed till he was within four or five yards of the advance-guard, who
stood in a line before him, quite still, and with their rifles lying
loosely in their left palms; then he reined his steed almost on its
haunches.
One of the Indians advanced and spoke a few words in a language which
was quite unintelligible to Dick, who replied, in the little Pawnee he
could muster, that he didn't understand him.
"Why, you must be a trapper!" exclaimed a thick-set, middle-aged man,
riding out from the group. "Can you speak English?"
"Ay, that can I," cried Dick joyfully, riding up and shaking the
stranger heartily by the hand; "an' right glad am I to fall in wi' a
white-skin an' a civil tongue in his head."
"Good sooth, sir," replied the stranger, with a quiet smile on his
kind, weather-beaten face, "I can return you the compliment; for when
I saw you come thundering down the corrie with that wonderful horse
and no less wonderful dog of yours, I thought you were the wild man o'
the mountain himself, and had an ambush ready to back you. But, young
man, do you mean to say that you live here in the mountain all alone
after this fashion?"
"No, that I don't. I've comed here in my travels, but truly this
bean't my home. But, sir (for I see you are what the fur-traders call
a bourgeois), how comes it that such a band as this rides i' the
mountains? D'ye mean to say that _they_ live here?" Dick looked round
in surprise, as he spoke, upon the crowd of mounted men and women,
with children and pack-horses, that now surrounded him.
"'Tis a fair question, lad. I am a principal among the fur-traders
whose chief trading-post lies near the Pacific Ocean, on the west side
of these mountains; and I have come with these trappers and their
families, as you see, to hunt the beaver and other animals for a
season in the mountains. We've never been here before; but that's a
matter of little moment, for it's not the first time I've been on
what may be called a discovery-trading expedition. We are somewhat
entangled, however, just now among these wild passes, and if you can
guide us out of our difficulties to the east side of the mountains,
I'll thank you heartily and pay you well. But first tell me who and
what you are, if it's a fair question."
"My name is Dick Varley, and my home's in the Mustang Valley, near
the Missouri River. As to _what_ I am--I'm nothin' yet, but I hope to
desarve the name o' a hunter some day. I can guide you to the east
side o' the mountains, for I've comed from there; but more than that I
can't do, for I'm a stranger to the country here, like yourself. But
you're on the east side o' the mountains already, if I mistake not;
only these mountains are so rugged and jumbled up, that it's not easy
tellin' where ye are. And what," continued Dick, "may be the name o'
the bourgeois who speaks to me?"
"My name is Cameron--Walter Cameron--a well-known name among the
Scottish hills, although it sounds a little strange here. And now,
young man, will you join my party as guide, and afterwards remain as
trapper? It will pay you better, I think, than roving about alone."
Dick shook his head and looked grave. "I'll guide you," said he, "as
far as my knowledge 'll help me; but after that I must return to look
for two comrades whom I have lost. They have been driven into the
mountains by a band of Injuns. God grant they may not have bin
scalped!"
The trader's face looked troubled, and he spoke with one of his
Indians for a few minutes in earnest, hurried tones.
"What were they like, young man?"
Dick described them.
"The same," continued the trader. "They've been seen, lad, not more
than two days ago, by this Indian here, when he was out hunting alone
some miles away from our camp. He came suddenly on a band of Indians
who had two prisoners with them, such as you describe. They were
stout, said you?"
"Yes, both of them," cried Dick, listening with intense eagerness.
"Ay. They were tied to their horses, an' from what I know of these
fellows I'm sure they're doomed. But I'll help you, my friend, as well
as I can. They can't be far from this. I treated my Indian's story
about them as a mere fabrication, for he's the most notorious liar in
my company; but he seems to have spoken truth for once."
"Thanks, thanks, good sir," cried Dick. "Had we not best turn back and
follow them at once?"
"Nay, friend, not quite so fast," replied Cameron, pointing to his
people. "These must be provided for first, but I shall be ready before
the sun goes down. And now, as I presume you don't bivouac in the
snow, will you kindly conduct us to your encampment, if it be not far
hence?"
Although burning with impatience to fly to the rescue of his friends,
Dick felt constrained to comply with so reasonable a request, so
he led the way to his camping-place, where the band of fur-traders
immediately began to pitch their tents, cut down wood, kindle fires,
fill their kettles with water, cook their food, and, in fact, make
themselves comfortable. The wild spot which, an hour before, had been
so still, and grand, and gloomy, was now, as if by magic, transformed
into a bustling village, with bright fires blazing among the rocks and
bushes, and merry voices of men, women, and children ringing in
the air. It seemed almost incredible, and no wonder Dick, in his
bewilderment, had difficulty in believing it was not all a dream.
In days long gone by the fur-trade in that country was carried on in a
very different way from the manner in which it is now conducted. These
wild regions, indeed, are still as lonesome and untenanted (save by
wild beasts and wandering tribes of Indians) as they were then;
but the Indians of the present day have become accustomed to the
"Pale-face" trader, whose little wooden forts or trading-posts are
dotted here and there, at wide intervals, all over the land. But in
the days of which we write it was not so. The fur-traders at that time
went forth in armed bands into the heart of the Indians' country, and
he who went forth did so "with his life in his hand." As in the case
of the soldier who went out to battle, there was great probability
that he might never return.
The band of which Walter Cameron was the chief had, many months
before, started from one of the distant posts of Oregon on a hunting
expedition into the then totally unknown lands of the Snake Indians.
It consisted of about sixty men, thirty women, and as many children
of various ages--about a hundred and twenty souls in all. Many of the
boys were capable of using the gun and setting a beaver-trap. The men
were a most motley set. There were Canadians, half-breeds, Iroquois,
and Scotchmen. Most of the women had Indian blood in their veins, and
a few were pure Indians.
The equipment of this strange band consisted of upwards of two
hundred beaver-traps--which are similar to our rat-traps, with this
difference, that they have two springs and no teeth--seventy guns, a
few articles for trade with the Indians, and a large supply of powder
and ball; the whole--men, women, children, goods, and chattels--being
carried on the backs of nearly four hundred horses. Many of these
horses, at starting, were not laden, being designed for the transport
of furs that were to be taken in the course of the season.
For food this adventurous party depended entirely on their guns, and
during the march hunters were kept constantly out ahead. As a matter
of course, their living was precarious. Sometimes their kettles were
overflowing; at others they scarce refrained from eating their horses.
But during the months they had already spent in the wilderness good
living had been the rule, starvation the exception. They had already
collected a large quantity of beaver skins, which at that time were
among the most valuable in the market, although they are now scarcely
saleable! Having shot two wild horses, seven elks, six small deer, and
four big-horned sheep the day before they met Dick Varley, the camp
kettles were full, and the people consequently happy.
"Now, Master Dick Varley," said Cameron, touching the young hunter on
the shoulder as he stood ready equipped by one of the camp-fires,
"I'm at your service. The people won't need any more looking after
to-night. I'll divide my men--thirty shall go after this rascally band
of Peigans, for such I believe they are, and thirty shall remain to
guard the camp. Are you ready?"
"Ready! ay, this hour past."
"Mount then, lad; the men have already been told off, and are
mustering down yonder where the deer gave you such a licking."
Dick needed no second bidding. He vaulted on Charlie's back, and along
with their commander joined the men, who were thirty as fine, hardy,
reckless looking fellows as one could desire for a forlorn-hope.
They were chatting and laughing while they examined their guns and
saddle-girths. Their horses were sorry looking animals compared with
the magnificent creature that Dick bestrode, but they were hardy,
nevertheless, and well fitted for their peculiar work.
"My! wot a blazer!" exclaimed a trapper as Dick rode up.
"Where you git him?" inquired a half-breed.
"I caught him," answered Dick.
"Baw!" cried the first speaker.
Dick took no notice of this last remark.
"No, did ye though?" he asked again.
"I did," answered Dick quietly. "I creased him in the prairie; you can
see the mark on his neck if you look."
The men began to feel that the young hunter was perhaps a little
beyond them at their own trade, and regarded him with increased
respect.
"Look sharp now, lads," said Cameron, impatiently, to several dilatory
members of the band. "Night will be on us ere long."
"Who sold ye the bear-claw collar?" inquired another man of Dick.
"I didn't buy it. I killed the bear and made it."
"Did ye, though, all be yer lone?"
"Ay; that wasn't much, was it?"
"You've begun well, yonker," said a tall, middle-aged hunter, whose
general appearance was not unlike that of Joe Blunt. "Jest keep clear
o' the Injuns an' the grog bottle, an' ye've a glor'ous life before
ye."
At this point the conversation was interrupted by the order being
given to move on, which was obeyed in silence, and the cavalcade,
descending the valley, entered one of the gorges in the mountains.
For the first half-mile Cameron rode a little ahead of his men, then
he turned to speak to one of them, and for the first time observed
Crusoe trotting close beside his master's horse.
"Ah! Master Dick," he exclaimed with a troubled expression, "that
won't do. It would never do to take a dog on an expedition like this."
"Why not?" asked Dick; "the pup's quiet and peaceable."
"I doubt it not; but he will betray our presence to the Indians, which
might be inconvenient."
"I have travelled more than a thousand miles through prairie and
forest, among game an' among Injuns, an' the pup never betrayed me
yet," said Dick, with suppressed vehemence. "He has saved my life more
than once though."
"You seem to have perfect confidence in your dog, but as this is a
serious matter you must not expect me to share in it without proof of
his trustworthiness."
"The pup may be useful to us; how would you have it proved?" inquired
Dick.
"Any way you like."
"You forgot your belt at starting, I think I heerd ye say."
"Yes, I did," replied the trader, smiling.
Dick immediately took hold of Cameron's coat, and bade Crusoe smell
it, which the dog did very carefully. Then he showed him his own belt
and said, "Go back to the camp and fetch it, pup."
Crusoe was off in a moment, and in less than twenty minutes returned
with Cameron's belt in his mouth.
"Well, I'll trust him," said Cameron, patting Crusoe's head. "Forward,
lads!" and away they went at a brisk trot along the bottom of a
beautiful valley on each side of which the mountains towered in dark
masses. Soon the moon rose and afforded light sufficient to enable
them to travel all night in the track of the Indian hunter who said he
had seen the Peigans, and who was constituted guide to the party. Hour
after hour the horsemen pressed on without check, now galloping over a
level plain, now bounding by the banks of a rivulet, or bending their
heads to escape the boughs of overhanging trees, and anon toiling
slowly up among the rocks of some narrow defile. At last the moon set,
and the order was given to halt in a little plain where there were
wood and water.
The horses were picketed, a fire kindled, a mouthful of dried meat
hastily eaten, the watch was set, and then each man scraped away the
snow, spread some branches on the ground, and wrapping himself in his
blanket, went to sleep with his feet presented towards the fire.
Two hours were allowed for rest; then they were awakened, and in a few
minutes were off again by the gray light of dawn. In this way they
travelled two nights and a day. At the end of that time they came
suddenly on a small party of nine Indians, who were seated on the
ground with their snow-shoes and blankets by their sides. They had
evidently been taken by surprise, but they made no attempt to escape,
knowing that it was useless. Each sat still with his bow and arrows
between his legs on the ground ready for instant use.
As soon as Cameron spoke, however, in their own language they felt
relieved, and began to talk.
"Where do you come from, and what are you doing here?" asked the
trader.
"We have come to trade with the white men," one of them replied, "and
to hunt. We have come from the Missouri. Our country is far away."
"Do Peigans hunt with _war-arrows?_" asked Cameron, pointing to their
weapons.
This question seemed to perplex them, for they saw that their
interrogator knew the difference between a war and a hunting
arrow--the former being barbed in order to render its extraction from
the wound difficult, while the head of the latter is round, and can be
drawn out of game that has been killed, and used again.
"And do Peigans," continued Cameron, "come from a far country to trade
with the white men _with nothing?_"
Again the Indians were silent, for they had not an article to trade
about them.
Cameron now felt convinced that this party of Peigans, into whose
hands Joe Blunt and Henri had fallen, were nothing else than a war
party, and that the men now before him were a scouting party sent out
from them, probably to spy out his own camp, on the trail of which
they had fallen, so he said to them:--
"The Peigans are not wise men; they tell lies to the traders. I
will tell you that you are a war party, and that you are only a
few warriors sent out to spy the traders' camp. You have also two
_Pale-face_ prisoners in your camp. You cannot deceive me. It is
useless to try. Now, conduct me to your camp. My object is not war; it
is peace. I will speak with your chiefs about trading with the white
men, and we will smoke the pipe of peace. Are my words good?"
Despite their proverbial control of muscle, these Indians could not
conceal their astonishment at hearing so much of their affairs thus
laid bare; so they said that the Pale-face chief was wise, that he
must be a great medicine man, and that what he said was all true
except about the white men. They had never seen any Pale-faces, and
knew nothing whatever about those he spoke of.
This was a terrible piece of news to poor Dick, and at first his heart
fairly sank within him, but by degrees he came to be more hopeful. He
concluded that if these men told lies in regard to one thing, they
would do it in regard to another, and perhaps they might have some
strong reason for denying any knowledge of Joe and Henri.
The Indians now packed up the buffalo robes on which they had slept,
and the mouthful of provisions they had taken with them.
"I don't believe a word of what they say about your friends," said
Cameron to Dick in a low tone while the Indians were thus engaged.
"Depend upon it they hope to hide them till they can send to the
settlements and get a ransom, or till they get an opportunity of
torturing them to death before their women and children when they get
back to their own village. But we'll balk them, my friend, do not
fear."
The Indians were soon ready to start, for they were cumbered with
marvellously little camp equipage. In less than half-an-hour after
their discovery they were running like deer ahead of the cavalcade in
the direction of the Peigan camp.