A COWARD’S DEED.
By the time the Indian dead were buried, darkness had come and the party
were gathered in the large room of the cabin at supper. They were quite
merry and Rafe listened with a grim smile as the man who called himself
Velveteens recounted the manner of his capture and escape at length,
going into particulars as to time and place.
“The rascal!” muttered Rafe. “Oh, he is a precious villain if his story
is true.”
Shortly after Old Pegs brought the prisoner something to eat, removing
his bonds while he did so, in order to give him the use of his hands.
“I want my strength for the work before me,” said Rafe, “or I would not
again break bread under your roof.”
“I’ll break a head under my roof if you don’t keep quiet you bruiser,”
replied Old Pegs. “Thunder and blood; one would think you was an
innercent cuss to hear you tork.”
“And so I am.”
“So’s yer grandmother! I ain’t going ter tork about it now, I tell you
fa’r; so shet up.”
Rafe ate in gloomy silence, when he was carefully tied up again by Old
Pegs and left alone. Velveteens was entertaining Dave Farrell and Myrtle
by an account of the country in the region of the “big pines” of
California, and Old Pegs dropped into the circle to listen. Bruin was
there, too, and strangely enough seemed to have taken a decided dislike
to Velveteens, and showed a disposition to attack him from time to time.
It was only the authority of his master which served the unfortunate
ex-captive from trouble.
“I don’t know what’s got inter you, Bruin,” said his master. “I’m
ashamed of you; don’t you know yer friends?”
“That b’ar ain’t safe,” said Velveteens; “and I reckon you’d better
shoot him.”
“Shoot him? I’d raise that man’s ha’r that did it, by gracious. Go on
with yer bird’s-egging, stranger; spin another yarn about them big
pines.”
“You keep the b’ar off me, then. I don’t half injy myself while he’s
foolin’ around me.”
To please the fellow, Old Pegs put the bear out of the cabin and came
back.
“What do ye do with that b’ar o’ nights, boss?” Velveteens asked.
“We leave him outside; a mighty good watch-dorg, is Bruin. He don’t ’low
no one to go slashing round _this_ house, arter dark.”
The countenance of Velveteens fell several degrees and he lost his usual
loquacity. The subject of the bear seemed to trouble him, and he
returned to it again, insisting upon it that such an animal ought to be
chained during the night.
“I reckon yer skeery about b’ars,” said Old Pegs. “I’ll humor you this
time, and shut the b’ar up behind the house.”
This was done and Velveteens seemed more at ease, though Bruin kept up a
fearful growling in his prison, tearing at the logs and snapping at his
chain. Old Pegs went out on a scout, taking his new friend with him, and
leaving Dave with Myrtle. I don’t know how it was done, but before half
an hour had passed the two had forgotten their little “tiff” of the
morning and were sitting side by side, hand clasped in hand, as only
lovers sit, while through the chinks in the walls of the prison Rafe
Norris glared at them.
“How long must I wait for revenge?” he muttered. “Oh, I will make him
repent in dust and ashes the hour he led me, bound like a dog, into her
presence. And you, proud rustic beauty, shall know what it is to scorn
the love of such a man as I!”
Old Pegs very wisely kept out of the way for over two hours. Those hours
were hours of agony to Rafe Norris. To see the woman he loved sitting
with her head upon the bosom of the man he hated, while his strong arm
encircled her slender waist, was torture. If his hands had been free,
and he could have reached a weapon, that moment had been death, perhaps
to both the lovers.
Old Pegs came back at last, and announced that they had seen no signs of
Indians, and had reason to believe that they had decamped entirely. He
found the young couple very much engaged over a book which Dave had
brought from the fort, and grinned widely as he saw the trouble was
over. Dave had begged her forgiveness but a moment before, and she had
sealed it with a loving kiss.
“Hev you looked at the pris’ner while I’ve been gone?” demanded Old
Pegs.
Dave looked a trifle foolish, for, if the truth must be told, he had
forgotten that such a person as Rafe Norris existed. Old Pegs laughed
and opened the door of the room, where he saw Rafe extended on the
floor, apparently asleep. Velveteens looked over his shoulder, as he did
so.
“He’s a desprut mean cuss, _that_, I’ll bet on,” he said. “D’ye mean to
stand guard all night?”
“No; he kain’t git away.”
“Then I wish ye’d show a place to sleep, fur I’m ’most mortal tired.
I’ve hed a hard time, lately.”
The hunter gave the man a blanket, and he wrapped it about him and lay
down on the floor, quite near the door of the room in which Rafe Norris
was confined. The lovers paid but little attention to him and sat, until
quite late, talking in low tones, which he could not hear if he had been
inclined to do so. Old Pegs stepped into a sort of alcove in one corner,
and, satisfied that all was safe, soon fell asleep.
Some hours after, Dave came in to share his blanket, while Myrtle went
into the curtained recess where she slept.
Two hours later, Velveteens, who had been not only asleep but snoring,
raised his head softly and looked about him. The moon was shining
brightly, and he could see every object in the room distinctly.
The loud snoring of Old Pegs and the heavy breathing of Dave Farrell
satisfied him that they were asleep, and raising himself softly—for, as
we have said, he slept quite close to the prison-door—he pulled the
latch-string, and the door swung open without noise.
It looked as if Rafe Norris had expected to see him, for he lay upon the
floor with his head close to the door, and when Velveteens lay down
again, shifted his position so as to keep his hands in view.
Some steel instrument gleamed in the moonlight, and the bonds fell from
the hands of the prisoner; a moment more, and his feet were also free.
He now sat up and began to rub his feet and ankles vigorously, to
restore the lost circulation, while Velveteens lay down and began to
snore in such a perfect manner that no one would have dreamed for a
moment that he was not asleep.
Ten minutes later, Rafe Norris stood in the main room and took up Old
Pegs’ knife, which lay upon a stool, and seemed about to rush into the
recess where the two men slept, when Velveteens threw his arms about him
and held him fast.
“What’s that?” demanded the gruff voice of Old Pegs.
Quick as thought, Rafe darted back into the room and closed the door,
just as the huge head of Old Pegs was thrust out of the recess.
“I wanted a drink,” said Velveteens.
“Thar’s some in the bucket; but why in thunder do you wake a feller up
this way? I don’t like it, not to speak of,” growled the hunter.
“I was awful dry,” replied Velveteens, as he took up the gourd. “I won’t
trouble you again to-night.”
Old Pegs went back with a snort of disapproval, and again fell asleep.
When satisfied of this, Velveteens tapped once on the door, and it swung
open as softly as before. Rafe Norris had seen that it was idle to
attempt revenge upon his enemies now, as both of them slept so lightly,
and following Velveteens, he crept toward the door, when they heard a
deep growl and the rattle of a chain.
Bruin had in some way broken loose and dragged himself to the door,
lying across the threshold. The two men looked at each other in
confusion and dismay, for they dared not pass out while that gigantic
sentinel lay in the way.
“Go back to yer room,” whispered Velveteens. “I’ve got some wolf-bait
hyar, and I’ll fix the black cuss.”
Rafe slipped back to the room, and Velveteens took down from the wall a
piece of venison, which might have weighed four pounds. This he cut
open, and from a pocket of his ragged hunting-shirt he now took a
bottle, from which he shook into the cut a quantity of a whitish
substance and then closed up the orifice he had made.
The window was partially raised, and thrusting out his hand, he dropped
the meat under the nose of Bruin, who snapped it up greedily and
devoured it in the twinkling of an eye. Having done his work, Velveteens
lay down again, while Rafe watched from the open door of the room in
which he had been confined, ready to make a rush if either Dave or Old
Pegs came out of the recess.
A few moments later, they heard a scuffling, confused sound and the
rattle of a chain, as if the bear was running away at the top of his
speed.
Velveteens chuckled and beckoned to Rafe, who again came out softly, and
the two stood in the middle of the room a moment; and then, opening the
door carefully, they went out together, closing the door after them,
while the others, never dreaming of the escape, slept profoundly.
It was nearly morning when Old Pegs rose, took up his rifle—which always
lay within reach of his hand—and went out into the main room.
He saw that the blanket of Velveteens was empty, and the door of the
prison open. Springing to the door, he looked in, and his cry of rage
awoke Dave, who started up and came out, to find Old Pegs dancing wildly
about the room, swearing like a trooper.
“He’s a nice cuss, that Velveteens, he is!” he screamed. “He ’scaped
from the Sioux—he did! Oh, knives and razor-grinders! Oh, dog every
button on my shirt, he’s cheated us!”
“Gone!” cried Dave, in dismay.
“Yaas, gone; gone like a thief in the night. Fled like a shadder,
leaving no sign to mark the spot whar he laid down. Oh, how it grinds me
that I didn’t let old Bruin chaw him up.”
“He is evidently in league with the Sioux and Rafe Norris,” said Dave.
“Shall we try to follow them?”
“And what makes me so cussid mad,” continued Old Pegs, paying no
attention to the question, “he got me ter chain up Bruin over night. He
knowed right well, the owdashus cuss, thet the b’ar would never hev let
him out. I git so mad sometimes when I think of it I c’u’d eat my shirt.
Oh mortal pizen, ef I _ever_ meet him!”
“What shall we do?” demanded Dave. “It isn’t safe to waste any time if
these Modoc Sioux are really his men.”
“What is the matter, father?” cried Myrtle from her sleeping apartment.
“They’ve dug out, both them low-lived skunks,” snarled Old Pegs. “Git up
and dress, gal; we must git out’n this mighty quick. Dave, come with
me.”
They ran out of the house, and quickly found the trail which led out of
the little valley to the south. Following it rapidly, they soon
satisfied themselves that their enemies had really left the valley,
going toward the “Sulphur Spring,” where Rafe had appointed the
rendezvous.
“They’ve gone ter jine the Injins,” said Old Pegs. “Won’t you be so good
ez to give me a big kick astarn, Dave? I desarve it.”
“What is done—is done,” replied Dave, “and we can not avoid it. What is
that by the spring yonder?”
“It looks like Bruin,” replied Old Pegs. “The black thief got away arter
all, and I wonder he let ’em go.”
“Probably he did not break away until after their departure,” replied
Dave. “Let us call him.”
He gave a shrill whistle, the call which Bruin always answered, but to
their surprise the bear did not move. Running up hastily, they found the
bear lying by the side of the spring, his tongue hanging out of his
mouth, and a white foam lying thick upon the grass.
“He’s dead, by the rock of Gibraltar!” roared the bear’s master. “Them
mean cusses hev killed him, but whar’s the blood?”
“He has died in a different way,” replied Dave. “Look at his mouth.”
Old Pegs saw at a glance how his bear had died. He had killed too many
wolves with strychnine, to have any doubt of the cause of his death, and
his anger broke out afresh.
“Thar’s going to be war when that Velveteens and Old Pegs come together
ag’in,” said the old man in an unusually quiet tone, which he only used
in moments of intense passion. “I’ll raise his ha’r, or my name ain’t
what it is. Come along; it is only a half day’s walk ter the spring, and
they ar’ thar afore now. They’ll be up hyar by noon, the hull b’iling,
and we’ve got ter be ready.”
As they turned to move away there was a movement in the bushes close to
them, and a savage face looked out at them, his eyes burning with
intense passion. It was Whirlwind, the Blackfoot chief. He held in his
hand a long bow and seemed about to fit an arrow to the string, but upon
second thought replaced the bow and called to Old Pegs by name.
“Let Short Legs turn back and have a talk with a great chief,” he cried.
“Durn my hide,” said Old Pegs. “Whar did he come from? Shill we humor
him, Dave? He seems ter be alone.”
“It may benefit us much if we can make friends with him,” replied Dave.
The two turned back hastily, and Whirlwind came quietly out of his place
of concealment and met them. He seemed to have no fear of them, strongly
armed as they were, and advanced boldly to meet them.
“Whirlwind is welcome,” said Old Pegs in the Indian tongue. “Why is he
here?”
“Last sun Whirlwind had many braves,” replied the Indian, “but now, he
has not one. The Sioux dogs trapped them like beaver, and they fell.”
Old Pegs was silent, because he did not know how the Indian might regard
his share in the battle of the day before.
“My brothers fought against the Blackfeet, too,” continued the chief.
“That was well, because the Blackfeet struck first when they did not
know who they fought. Whirlwind would be a friend to Short Legs and the
Beaver Captain.”
“I am willing to be friends,” replied Dave, “but you put an arrow
through my shoulder, yesterday.”
“Yesterday we were enemies, to-day we will be friends.”
“And to-morrow enemies again.”
“Not if Whirlwind smokes a pipe with his white brothers. See; Whirlwind
seeks vengeance on the Modoc Sioux, who have come into his country and
killed his men. Short Legs and the Beaver Captain shall help him.”
“Do you wish to be a friend to the man who was with us last sun?”
“No!” replied the chief, sullenly. “Whirlwind will not smoke a pipe with
him.”
“I am glad of that,” continued Dave, “for he is our enemy. Let Whirlwind
bring a pipe and we will smoke.”
The smoking of the peace-pipe was a binding obligation to the Indians,
who would not begin a war again until the men with whom they had smoked
had been fairly warned. A pipe was lighted and passed from mouth to
mouth, and the ceremony was complete.
“Whirlwind will go now,” said the chief. “Let my brothers trap beaver in
the hills in peace when winter comes, the Blackfeet will not harm them.
Look for my warriors when the sun sets twice by the three great rocks.”
He waved them farewell, and started away at a quick pace, taking a
direction across the mountain. For two hours the whites were occupied in
carrying out of the house for concealment, every article they wished to
keep safe, and by the time the sun was at meridian the work was done,
and they waited quietly for the coming of the Modoc Sioux. An hour later
they came trooping into the pass, when Old Pegs, who was on the watch,
quietly retired into the cabin and shut the door.