HOW "FRENCH PAUL" GOT HURT.
"I am quite sure," said Kidd, "that the stories told to frighten outsiders from the district, which lies there away, are invented by the reds and by the few whites who have explored it, for the same end—to keep its metallic treasures, perchance those of precious stones; besides, here we shall perish in the storms. That horrid one nearly laid us out stiff; I want to escape them. Within that charmed valley volcanoes maintain the temperature of spring; grass is eternal for cattle; the unfrozen ground can be broken up; the water always runs for gold washing! I say, guide us into that natural garden; and in two weeks, should no gold be found, you can depart. You shall name your terms; and, with the goods and dollars, go your way. If we find gold, you shall have your lot as a member of the band—reduced by losses, so that the shares are not unreasonably many—as guide, and as the leader's partner!"
"You are very frank. You do not understand that an English gentleman does not let money influence him—"
"Bah, bah! An hidalgo, ay, a grandee of old Spain goes gold hunting and never dreams of a reproach to his blue blood, for the royal metal ennobles its seekers. That apart, if you are here for adventure, I foresee that you will have no lack of that—more mustard than beef!"
"Allow me another remark: whatever my taste as regards money, there is one thing I love more—my freedom."
"Great heavens! Then I am putting you in the place to be the freest in the band. What a pilot is at sea, a guide is to a hunters' band. The captain himself has to submit to many things onerous, which the guide escapes. He gives no one an account of his doings when he has been absent; he leaves at any hour and stays as long as he likes—the band must await him or go on to the rendezvous which he arranged. You cry 'halt!' when you are tired, or hungry, or athirst, and we halt under the tree you point out. Freedom? If I were not the captain, I'd rather be the guide, upon my honour!"
"If that is how a guide can act," remarked Dearborn, as if wavering, "I don't mind agreeing. It is fully understood that I accept out of kindness, and because, having saved your life, I wish to complete the work, and not leave you to be overwhelmed by a blizzard on the very threshold of the Enchanted Valley, as you esteem it!"
The captain joined in the laugh.
"More frankness," he proceeded. "My men are rough rogues, not worth the loop that will finish them, and I shall be the happier with a genuine gentleman the more at my side. Whatever your conditions, I gladly will pay them. Is it settled?"
"You shall be shown the Yellowstone Hole as if I were opening a drawing room door, captain."
"When may we start?"
"Tomorrow, sunrise."
"That will be capital, for I expect a little reinforcement to come in."
"Then I shall give the word to start and go when I see you at dawn," observed the hunter, taking up his rifle as he rose.
"Do you mean you are going so untimely?"
"Yes. Look here, I haven't asked a question about the reinforcement you mention, though that interests the guide. So don't you put any to me," returned Dearborn, ironically.
"Quite right. But whilst you may keep back what you please from the chief, he must confide everything in the head scout. I am adding some women and children to the band. They will weaken us, but be a tower of strength by and bye. I can say no more at present."
"You need not have said so much."
"When you see them you will see all the women—that is, except a companion of my dear niece—a Scotch lady, who came to our camp for refuge from the Indians who destroyed her party."
"A regular 'squaw' band," remarked the Englishman, naturally enough contemptuous if he had already imbibed the hunter's sentiments.
The captain approved with a smile, but Doña Rosario seemed to frown, though she appreciated properly the sincerity of the speaker's raillery.
"Good hunting till tomorrow," said the bandit, seeing his friend and partner clear to the outpost, and announcing his status on the way to all comers.
Without waiting for the captain's return, Rosario returned to her nook in the rock.
"Good news, Ulla!" she exclaimed to the other girl, who was in some anxiety. "I have had a perfect outbreak with our tyrant, but I have seen your brave friend. What daring to walk into the camp among so many villains! I declare I am quite proud of him myself, and you may well be jealous till I have some idol of my own. Cheer up! Happiness is beginning to smile on us!"
The leader returned slowly to the tent. On the way he met the Carcajieu, who was walking up and down sulkily as if he disapproved of the new addition to the party, and the quasi-superiority accorded him.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing new yet!" was the grumbling reply.
"None of the scouts come in?"
"Part have, bringing what is left of Sydney Dick in two pieces. The Injins have been playing high old pranks with him, hide and head! And the rest are probing the snowdrifts for the Frenchman. It will be a windfall for us that blew him into fifty feet of never-melting snows!"
"You don't seem to waste any affection on him!"
"It's a liar who'd say so."
"I love him no better. His treacherous face imported good to no one. But we are in no such luck to be rid of him, too."
In taking "the last squint" around, they saw pitch pine knot torches flashing on the plain.
"What did I say? The boys have found him, you be sure."
Retracing their steps to the pickets, they found the torches coming on as slowly as in a funeral procession.
"One can never tell," observed Joe; "maybe they've had a brush with the Injins."
"Not in the dark, lieutenant. Besides, those red devils must be still stiff with the freezing. It's those confounded bears, wild at having been robbed of me."
It was quite half an hour before the solemnly silent watch brought the torches near enough for their light, falling on the scouts, to reveal that they carried on a handbarrow of pine poles a figure vaguely resembling a man's.
"Have you found the Frenchman?"
"Yes, captain, but in damaged condition!"
"Do you mean to say he is hurt?"
"Have a little patience—or lend a hand, if you are in such a hurry!" cried the men.
They laid their burden down tenderly enough by a watch fire.
"A little more gently, burn your bones!" groaned Lottery Paul, throwing off the buffalo robe coats and blankets kindly laid over him; "Don't you want to leave me one whole bone among 'em."
"What's come to you, friend?" queried the captain.
"A stupid question; better ask who came at me?—I can reply to that, after a fashion."
"Thunder! My poor boy, your accident seems to have soured your usually sweet temper."
"Oh, you call that an accident, do you, old man? Much obliged for an explanation of your notion of an accident. What's your name for the fire of a battery of nine-pounders and a charge of dragoons?"
"Why don't you speak out! Tell us, or go to death your own way—if we can't do any good to you."
"I know you can. Hand over the whisky!"
"You ass! That would be a gulp of 'sudden death' in fact."
"More nonsense! How do you know what state I am in before I tell you? I am dying of thirst, that's just what ails me—so pass along the bottle, or I'll speak nothing."
"Give it him, and let him choke himself," said Kidd, enraged at the obstinacy.
Paul snatched the bottle and drank a long draught, his laugh mingling with the gurgling.
"Whoop!" cried he, dropping the nearly emptied flask with a grin of content. "I feel better already. A poor idea you have of a scout's outfit, to send that cahoot out without a drink in the herd!"
"Will you talk up now, you brute?"
"Orders received for a Fourth of July oration!"
"Well, where are you hurt, to begin with?"
"All over—a bullet through the right arm, another grazed my ribs, the small of my back caught a rap from the butt end of a rifle, and I offer a complete collection of scratches and bruises from a drop into a snow pit, where a fire had melted it twenty feet—"
"My fire," ejaculated the captain.
"Oh, have I to thank you for that trick! My spirit must be pretty tightly boxed up in my body, after all, not to have been bounced out. However, it looks as if I should get round after a bit, and then somebody will ask who exploded a giant cartridge next door to his blanket."
"Who?"
"The man that served me so. Do you fancy I have been taking myself by the throat and levelling the snow with me!"
"If you go on with such a rigmarole, we shall understand very little."
"That's so, captain. To put it short—you sent me out on the scout. That's admitted?—Good. I spread myself to no purpose; not a trace on the snow where even a witch wolf must have left some print. It got to be after sun darkening, and my wolfish gnawing under my belt set me campwards, a little careless I am afraid, for somebody heard me, and I heard a nasty threatening voice challenge me with a 'Who goes there?'"
"'Twas a man," cried Captain Kidd.
"Unless the prairie dogs talk English," rejoined the Parisian, laughing through a grimace of pain. "'It's a friend,' I answered, getting my gun round to have first shot. 'Where from?' Here was a chance to get in some big lie; but I thought a white man would be best bumped off by a boast of our turnout. 'From the Montana Gold hunters! We're two hundred strong, not twenty miles yonder.' 'I am no friend of scoundrels of your kidney,' said this particular fellow. It looks as if he knew all about us. 'Pull up and pull out while your scalp is on!' 'How long since you staked out this territory,' said I, catching a glimpse of the muzzle of his piece. 'I am not going to quit till you show me your papers,' and I pulled the trigger. But the worst of it is, that when I could spy his gun, he saw mine, and we fired together, with the shade of preference to the stranger. That's about while I felt the ball through my arm, and my gun had to drop. I had it up quick in my other hand, and leaped on the shooter. But another bullet came on me in the side, from the flash, and I was stretched on my back instantly. That fellow rushed right up to me, and held me down with his foot till I had received this speech: 'You have your dose. The others will now get theirs; and, if it is a little slow coming, it will be kept hot!'"
"The man said that?" cried Kidd.
"Clearly. That made me suppose, cap'n, that some of your acquaintances are hovering round, and will stir you up yet."
"Go on," muttered the bandit chief, frowning, and becoming thoughtful.
"So did he—go on! I tried to get out my knife to learn how thick his leggins were, when he turned me over and set to kicking me as if he was bound to wear his boots out in the shortest possible time. I was rolled over and over like a log towards the river, and he yelling out the most abusive language. 'Take that, thief! And that, pícaro! And that, voleur de trappes! And that, assassin!' There were enough and to spare for ten apiece to all you rascals in the camp, captain included! Luckily, in his blind fury, he kicked me over the ends of some burnt logs, and down I fell into the pit which that fire of your'n had melted. I thought it was an Injin b'ar trap when I came to my senses, and I climbed out mighty rapid for fear either b'ar or Injin would drop in on me. Somehow I crawled in the proper direction, afeared to raise a woo-oo for Dick; and at last the boys hit upon me. Good boys, though I have swore some at 'em. They deserve their quenchers, and, old man, I'll take the balance in that flask."
He was given more drink; spirits is the panacea of such men.
"So," said Kidd, "you were unable to fulfil my charge, and have brought back no information beyond this attack on you?"
"I saw nobody but that one man. If he who sent the second shot had joined in that 'booting,' the boys would have only picked up a pancake."
"This is painfully strange!"
"Oh, I think it strangely painful!"
"What kind of man was your assailant?"
"That's the puzzle," replied the railing Parisian. "By the voice, a white man. But I did not see him. It was so dark, and he was on me like a tiger! And then he kept me rolling over and over, so that I had not one fair peep at his nose. I shall only know him again by the length of his foot and the tone of his voice."
"If that's all, bah!—We'll take care of him, mates."
After the excitement of his telling the misadventure, French Paul was dull and lifeless; then he raved with pain, for he had not a dollar's breadth of his body without a bruise. Yet he bore the dressing and anointing with crude kerosene oil and snake juice with fortitude. Next begging a drink, and "freezing" to the bottle, he went to sleep drunk. His last words were: "Don't you fret, boys—any of you that I owe money to. I shall come up smiling; for him that's borned to be hanged won't be kicked to death no how."
Meanwhile Captain Kidd strayed into his tent very thoughtfully after having enjoined Corky Joe to exercise the utmost vigilance.
For years upon years this desperado had struggled against society, and sported with all laws and regulations; but now he saw the horizon circle in upon him. He could not drive away the foreboding that the hour of a terrible punishment was approaching. All night long he walked up and down in the tent, revolving the most fantastic projects. A few minutes before sunrise, a man coughed at the tent opening in that warning way customary where men sleep with weapons in the hand, and might, if abruptly awakened, put a bullet mechanically in the innocent arouser. The cloth was lifted and a man appeared, whom Captain Kidd greeted with joy.
It was Dearborn.
At least here was a follower who punctually kept his word.