_Adventures with the Peigans_--_Crusoe does good service as a
discoverer_--_The savages outwitted_--_The rescue_.
A run of twenty miles brought the travellers to a rugged defile in
the mountains, from which they had a view of a beautiful valley of
considerable extent. During the last two days a steady thaw had been
rapidly melting away the snow, so that it appeared only here and
there in the landscape in dazzling patches. At the distance of about
half-a-mile from where they halted to breathe the horses before
commencing the descent into this vale, several thin wreaths of smoke
were seen rising above the trees.
"Is that your camp?" inquired Cameron, riding up to the Indian
runners, who stood in a group in front, looking as fresh after their
twenty miles' run as though they had only had a short walk.
To this they answered in the affirmative, adding that there were about
two hundred Peigans there.
It might have been thought that thirty men would have hesitated to
venture to attack so large a number as two hundred; but it had always
been found in the experience of Indian life that a few resolute white
men well armed were more than a match for ten times their number of
Indians. And this arose not so much from the superior strength or
agility of the Whites over their red foes, as from that bull-dog
courage and utter recklessness of their lives in combat--qualities
which the crafty savage can neither imitate nor understand. The
information was received with perfect indifference by most of the
trappers, and with contemptuous laughter by some; for a large number
of Cameron's men were wild, evil-disposed fellows, who would have as
gladly taken the life of an Indian as that of a buffalo.
Just as the word was given to resume the march, Dick Varley rode up to
Cameron and said in a somewhat anxious tone,--
"D'ye obsarve, sir, that one o' the Redskins has gone off ahead o' his
comrades?"
"I see that, Master Dick; and it was a mistake of mine not to have
stopped him, but he was gone too far before I observed it, and I
thought it better to appear unconcerned. We must push on, though, and
give him as short time as possible to talk with his comrades in the
camp."
The trappers pressed forward accordingly at a gallop, and were soon in
front of the clump of trees amongst which the Peigans were encamped.
Their approach had evidently spread great alarm among them, for there
was a good deal of bustle and running to and fro; but by the time the
trappers had dismounted and advanced in a body on foot, the savages
had resumed their usual quiet dignity of appearance, and were seated
calmly round their fires with their bows and arrows beside them. There
were no tents, no women or children, and the general aspect of the men
showed Cameron conclusively that his surmise about their being a war
party was correct.
A council was immediately called. The trappers ranged themselves on
one side of the council fire and the Indians on the other. Meanwhile,
our friend Crusoe had been displaying considerable irritability
against the Indians, and he would certainly have attacked the whole
two hundred single-handed if he had not been ordered by his master to
lie still; but never in his life before had Crusoe obeyed with such a
bad grace. He bristled and whined in a low tremulous tone, and looked
imploringly at Dick as if for permission to fly at them.
"The Pale-face traders are glad to meet with the Peigans," began
Cameron, who determined to make no allusion to his knowledge that they
were a war party, "for they wish to be friends with all the children
of the woods and prairies. They wish to trade with them--to exchange
blankets, and guns, and beads, and other goods which the Peigans
require, for furs of animals which the Pale-faces require."
"Ho! ho!" exclaimed the Indians, which expression might be translated,
"Hear! hear!"
"But," continued Cameron, "we wish to have no war. We wish to see the
hatchet buried, and to see all the red men and the white men smoking
the pipe of peace, and hunting like brothers."
The "Ho--ho--ing" at this was very emphatic.
"Now," resumed the trader, "the Peigans have got two prisoners--two
Pale-faces--in their camp, and as we cannot be on good terms while our
brothers are detained, we have come to ask for them, and to _present
some gifts_ to the Peigans."
To this there was no "Ho" at all, but a prolonged silence, which was
at length interrupted by a tall chief stepping forward to address the
trappers.
"What the Pale-face chief has said is good," began the Indian. "His
words are wise, and his heart is not double. The Red-men are willing
to smoke the pipe of peace, and to hunt with all men as brothers, but
they cannot do it while many of their scalps are hanging in the lodges
of their enemies and fringing the robes of the warriors. The Peigans
must have vengeance; then they will make peace."
After a short pause he continued,--
"The chief is wrong when he says there are Pale-faces in the Peigan
camp. The Peigans are not at war with the Pale-faces; neither have
they seen any on their march. The camp is open. Let the Pale-faces
look round and see that what we say is true."
The chief waved his hand towards his warriors as he concluded, as if
to say, "Search amongst them. There are no Pale-faces there."
Cameron now spoke to Dick in a low tone. "They speak confidently," he
said, "and I fear greatly that your poor comrades have either been
killed or conveyed away from the camp and hidden among the mountains,
in which case, even though they should not be far off, it would be
next to impossible to find them, especially when such a band of
rascals is near, compelling us to keep together. But I'll try what a
little tempting them with goods will do. At any rate, we shan't give
in without a scuffle."
It now, for the first time, flashed across Dick Varley that there was
something more than he imagined in Crusoe's restless anxiety, which
had not in the least abated, and the idea of making use of him now
occurred to his mind.
"I've a notion that I'll settle this matter in a shorter time than you
think," he said hurriedly, "if you'll agree to try what _threatening_
will do."
The trader looked grave and undecided. "I never resort to that except
as a last hope," he answered; "but I've a good deal of confidence in
your prudence. What would you advise?"
Dick and the trader whispered a few minutes together, while some of
the men, in order to show the Indians how perfectly unconcerned they
were, and how ready for _anything_, took out their pipes and began
to smoke. Both parties were seated on the ground, and during this
interval the Indians also held eager discussion.
At length Cameron stood up, and said to his men in a quiet tone, "Be
ready, lads, for instant action. When I give the word 'Up,' spring to
your feet and cock your guns; but _don't fire a shot till you get the
word_." He then stepped forward and said,--
"The Peigan warriors are double-tongued; they know that they have hid
the Pale-face prisoners. We do not wish to quarrel, but if they are
not delivered up at once the Pale-faces and the Peigans will not be
friends."
Upon this the Indian chief again stood forward and said, "The Peigans
are _not_ double-tongued. They have not seen Pale-faces till to-day.
They can say no more."
Without moving hand or foot, Cameron then said in a firm tone, "The
first Peigan that moves shall die! Up, lads, and ready!"
In the twinkling of an eye the trappers sprang to their feet, and
cocking their rifles stood perfectly motionless, scowling at the
savages, who were completely taken by surprise at the unusual
suddenness and informality of such a declaration of war. Not a man
moved, for, unlike white men, they seldom risk their lives in open
fight; and as they looked at the formidable row of muzzles that waited
but a word to send instant death into their midst, they felt that
discretion was at that time the better part of valour.
"Now," said Cameron, while Dick Varley and Crusoe stepped up beside
him, "my young warrior will search for the Pale-face prisoners. If
they are found, we will take them and go away. If they are not found,
we will ask the Peigans to forgive us, and will give them gifts. But
in the meantime, if a Peigan moves from the spot where he sits, or
lifts a bow, my young men shall fire, and the Peigans know that the
rifle of the Pale-face always kills."
Without waiting for an answer, Dick immediately said, "Seek 'em out,
pup," and Crusoe bounded away.
For a few minutes he sprang hither and thither through the camp, quite
regardless of the Indians, and snuffed the air several times, whining
in an excited tone, as if to relieve his feelings. Then he put his
nose to the ground and ran straight forward into the woods.
Dick immediately bounded after him like a deer, while the trappers
kept silent guard over the savages.
For some time Crusoe ran straight forward. Then he came to a spot
where there was a good deal of drifted snow on the ground. Here
he seemed to lose the trail for a little, and ran about in all
directions, whining in a most piteous tone.
"Seek 'em out, pup," repeated Dick encouragingly, while his own breast
heaved with excitement and expectation.
In a few seconds the dog resumed its onward course, and led the
way into a wild, dark spot, which was so overshadowed by trees and
precipitous cliffs that the light of the sun scarce found entrance.
There were many huge masses of rock scattered over the ground, which
had fallen from the cliffs. Behind one of these lay a mound of dried
leaves, towards which Crusoe darted and commenced scraping violently.
Trembling with dread that he should find this to be the grave of his
murdered companions, Dick rushed forward and hastily cleared away the
leaves. The first handful thrown off revealed part of the figure of a
man. Dick's heart beat audibly as he cleared the leaves from the face,
and he uttered a suppressed cry on beholding the well-known features
of Joe Blunt. But they were not those of a dead man. Joe's eyes met
his with a scowl of anger, which instantly gave place to one of
intense surprise.
"Joe Blunt!" exclaimed Dick in a voice of intense amazement, while
Crusoe snuffed round the heap of leaves and whined with excitement.
But Joe did not move, neither did he speak a word in reply--for the
very good reason that his mouth was tightly bound with a band of
leather, his hands and feet were tied, and his whole body was secured
in a rigid, immovable position by being bound to a pole of about his
own length.
In a moment Dick's knife was out, bands and cords were severed, and
Joe Blunt was free.
"Thank God!" exclaimed Joe with a deep, earnest sigh, the instant his
lips were loosened, "and thanks to _you_, lad!" he added, endeavouring
to rise; but his limbs had become so benumbed in consequence of the
cords by which they had been compressed that for some time he could
not move.
"I'll rub ye, Joe; I'll soon rub ye into a right state," said Dick,
going down on his knees.
"No, no, lad, look sharp and dig up Henri. He's just beside me here."
Dick immediately rose, and pushing aside the heap of leaves, found
Henri securely bound in the same fashion. But he could scarce refrain
from laughing at the expression of that worthy's face. Hearing the
voices of Joe and Dick Varley in conversation, though unable to see
their persons, he was filled with such unbounded amazement that his
eyes, when uncovered, were found to be at their largest possible
stretch, and as for the eyebrows they were gone, utterly lost among
the roots of his voluminous hair.
"Henri, friend, I knew I should find ye," said Dick, cutting the
thongs that bound him. "Get up if ye can; we haven't much time
to lose, an' mayhap we'll have to fight afore we're done wi' the
Redskins. Can ye rise?"
Henri could do nothing but lie on his back and gasp, "Eh! possible!
mon frere! Oh, non, non, _not_ possible. Oui! my broder Deek!"
Here he attempted to rise, but being unable fell back again, and the
whole thing came so suddenly, and made so deep an impression on his
impulsive mind, that he incontinently burst into tears; then he burst
into a long laugh. Suddenly he paused, and scrambling up to a sitting
posture, looked earnestly into Dick's face through his tearful eyes.
"Oh, non, non!" he exclaimed, stretching himself out at full length
again, and closing his eyes; "it are too goot to be true. I am dream.
I vill wait till I am wake."
Dick roused him out of this, resolute sleep, however, somewhat
roughly. Meanwhile Joe had rubbed and kicked himself into a state of
animation, exclaiming that he felt as if he wos walkin' on a thousand
needles and pins, and in a few minutes they were ready to accompany
their overjoyed deliverer back to the Peigan camp. Crusoe testified
his delight in various elephantine gambols round the persons of his
old friends, who were not slow to acknowledge his services.
"They haven't treated us overly well," remarked Joe Blunt, as they
strode through the underwood.
"Non, de rascale, vraiment, de am villains. Oui! How de have talk,
too, 'bout--oh-o-oo-ooo-wah!--roastin' us alive, an' puttin' our scalp
in de vigvam for de poo-poose to play wid!"
"Well, niver mind, Henri, we'll be quits wi' them now," said Joe, as
they came in sight of the two bands, who remained in precisely the
same position in which they had been left, except that one or two of
the more reckless of the trappers had lit their pipes and taken to
smoking, without, however, laying down their rifles or taking their
eyes off the savages.
A loud cheer greeted the arrival of the prisoners, and looks of
considerable discomfort began to be evinced by the Indians.
"Glad to see you, friends," said Cameron, as they came up.
"Ve is 'appy ov de same," replied Henri, swaggering up in the
joviality of his heart, and seizing the trader's hand in his own
enormous fist. "Shall ve go to vork an' slay dem all at vonce, or von
at a time?"
"We'll consider that afterwards, my lad. Meantime go you to the rear
and get a weapon of some sort."
"Oui. Ah! c'est charmant," he cried, going with an immense flounder
into the midst of the amused trappers, and slapping those next to
him on the back. "Give me veapon, do, mes amis--gun, pistol,
anyting--cannon, if you have von."
Meanwhile Cameron and Joe spoke together for a few moments.
"You had goods with you, and horses, I believe, when you were
captured," said the former.
"Ay, that we had. Yonder stand the horses, under the pine-tree, along
wi' the rest o' the Redskin troop; an' a hard time they've had o't,
as their bones may tell without speakin'. As for the goods," he
continued, glancing round the camp, "I don't know where--ah! yes,
there they be in the old pack. I see all safe."
Cameron now addressed the Indians.
"The Peigans," he said, "have not done well. Their hearts have not
been true to the Pale-faces. Even now I could take your scalps where
you sit, but white men do not like war, they do not like revenge. The
Peigans may go free."
Considering the fewness of their numbers, this was bold language to
use towards the Indians; but the boldest is generally the best policy
on such occasions. Moreover, Cameron felt that, being armed with
rifles, while the Indians had only bows and arrows, the trappers had a
great advantage over them.
The Indian who had spoken before now rose and said he was sorry there
should be any cause of difference between them, and added he was sorry
for a great many more things besides, but he did not say he was sorry
for having told a lie.
"But, before you go, you must deliver up the horses and goods
belonging to these men," said Cameron, pointing to Joe and Henri.
This was agreed to. The horses were led out, the two little packs
containing Joe's goods were strapped upon them, and then the trappers
turned to depart. The Indians did not move until they had mounted;
then they rose and advanced in a body to the edge of the wood, to see
the Pale-faces go away. Meanwhile Joe spoke a few words to Cameron,
and the men were ordered to halt, while the former dismounted and led
his horse towards the band of savages.
"Peigans," he said, "you know the object for which I came into this
country was to make peace between you and the Pale-faces. I have often
told you so when you would not listen, and when you told me that I had
a double heart and told lies. You were wrong when you said this; but I
do not wonder, for you live among nations who do not fear God, and
who think it right to lie. I now repeat to you what I said before.
It would be good for the Red-men if they would make peace with the
Pale-faces, and if they would make peace with each other. I will now
convince you that I am in earnest, and have all along been speaking
the truth."
Hereupon Joe Blunt opened his bundle of goods, and presented fully
one-half of the gaudy and brilliant contents to the astonished
Indians, who seemed quite taken aback by such generous treatment.
The result of this was that the two parties separated with mutual
expressions of esteem and good-will. The Indians then returned to the
forest, and the white men galloped back to their camp among the hills.