Story 1—Chapter XVII.
On the Trail.
“Where are you wounded?” asked Mr Rawlings, bending over Seth, who seemed to suffer considerable pain, although he endeavoured stoically to suppress all expression of it.
“In my side, haar,” replied the other, pointing to where the feathered end of an arrow could be seen protruding from his shirt; “and if yer cut off the tail of the cussed thing, I reckon you ken pull it slick through, as the head’s comed out ahint me. But it’s only a flesh wound, and ain’t up to much, for it didn’t touch my ribs.”
“Well,” said Mr Rawlings, “you’re a bit of a doctor, Seth, and ought to know if anybody does.”
“Yes, it’s only a scratch, I’m sartain, or I would ha’ felt it more. My fut’s the wussest of the two. But, lor’ sakes!” added Seth, trying to get on his legs, and quivering with excitement, although the attempt was futile, and he had to sink back again into his half-sitting, half-kneeling posture with a groan—“don’t you stop here a consulting about me, Rawlings, when that poor boy’s life’s in peril. You and Wilton had best skate off at once and foller up them redskins as has Sailor Bill. I ken bide waal enuf till you gits back again, old man, along with Jasper, who can do all I wants.”
“We won’t neglect the boy,” said Mr Rawlings, struck with Seth’s unselfishness in ignoring his own wounded condition under the consciousness of his protégé’s danger, “but we must think of you all the same first.” And kneeling down by the injured man’s side, he proceeded, with Ernest Wilton’s assistance, to cut away Seth’s shirt, and then the end of the arrow, holding it firmly the while so that it should not wriggle about, and hurt him more than they could help, after which the barbed head was drawn out of the wound—which was just between the third and fourth ribs, and not very serious, as the ex-mate had thought—stanching the blood, and binding up the place with a silk handkerchief, which the young engineer had taken from round his neck for the purpose.
Mr Rawlings was immensely relieved to find that Seth was not so dangerously hit as he had at first supposed. When he saw the arrow sticking out of his side, he thought it was all up with his poor comrade; so now that the case appeared more hopeful, he was better able to consider what course should be adopted for Sailor Bill’s rescue.
After a moment’s deliberation, during which Seth gazed at him with a look of piteous entreaty on his face, but did not interrupt him with a word, guessing what was passing through his mind, Mr Rawlings’ line of action was decided on.
“Here, Jasper,” said he to the negro steward.
“Iss, massa.”
“You must run back to the camp as hard as you can, and tell Noah Webster to pick out five or six of the men who can use their rifles well, and come back here with them and Moose—he wouldn’t forget to bring him—to pursue the Indians. You must also bring a team of mules with the small waggon with you, the same as I told you about just now, although I did not then think to what a sad use we should put it, to take home Mr Seth in; and look sharp now—why, what’s the matter?”
Jasper had started up to go at Mr Rawlings’ first words; but when that gentleman spoke about the Indians while giving his directions, his alacrity and courage seemed to disappear together in company, as, instead of rushing off, as Mr Rawlings supposed, almost before he could finish speaking, there he stood, twirling his battered straw-hat about in his fingers, and looking the picture of cowardly irresolution.
“What, massa?” he tremblingly said, in answer to Mr Rawlings’ interrogation, his teeth chattering with fear, and his countenance wearing a most hang-dog expression. “Me go back ’lone cross de prairee, all dat way to camp? Suppose the Injuns scalp pore niggah same as massa Seth! Golly, Massa Rawlins, um can’t do it. I’se afeared!”
“You durned skunk!” exclaimed Seth, his indignation heightened probably by the pain of his wounds. “You jest make tracks at once, as Mister Rawlings says, or else I’ll—” and he shook his fist expressively to complete the sentence.
“Perhaps I had better go,” said Ernest Wilton at this juncture. “Jasper seems to be so frightened that he might lose his way; and, at all events, he would probably have forgotten half your instructions when he got to the creek, and give only a garbled account of what has happened. I think I would make the best messenger, unless you would prefer me to remain with you in case the Indians should return in force before we get help.”
“Go by all means,” answered Mr Rawlings. “I needn’t tell you to hurry, my boy, you know the necessity of that, on every account! Jasper shall stop here and help defend us in case the savages assail us before you get back;” and Mr Rawlings could not help smiling as he spoke, in spite of their perilous position, at the comical idea of the cowardly Jasper acting as a protector.
“Bress us and sabe us, Massa Rawlings!” ejaculated the negro in mortal terror, about which there was no pretence or affectation. “Don’t say dat, don’t now! mebbe it come out for true! I’se rader go ’th Mass’ Willerton, an’ bring back the waggin for Mass’ Seth, iss, sah.”
“No you won’t,” said Mr Rawlings. “You hesitated to go when I told you, and now you shall stop here whether you like it or not!” emphasising his words by laying his hand on the darkey’s shoulder, in such an impressive manner that he could not but submit to the command. But long before the question of Jasper’s staying behind or going off with the young engineer was settled, Ernest had started off on the back track towards Minturne Creek at a brisk run, and was shortly out of sight behind the top of the plateau they had just descended from.
Prior to leaving, however, Ernest considerately ordered Wolf to remain in his place, as he would be of much service in the event of an Indian attack, telling the sagacious animal to lie at Seth’s feet, with a “Hi, watch there; old man!” an order which the dog at once obeyed, while his master was off and away in an instant.
“Well, Seth,” said Mr Rawlings, when the young engineer had disappeared from their gaze, “you haven’t yet told me how this catastrophe occurred? But let me see your foot now, and I can examine it, and see what I can do to that while you are telling me all about it.” And Mr Rawlings proceeded to cut away a portion of Seth’s boot with his clasp knife—the same as he had had to do to his shirt before extracting the arrow, as it caused the poor fellow too much pain to pull it off—while the other went on with his yarn.
“Thaar ain’t much to tell,” began Seth. “I an’ Sailor Bill beat up the bush alongside that ther stream, arter partin’ with you, and then, when we seed nothin’ thaar, made tracks for this yere paraira, as I diskivered, when I got to the top o’ that risin’ ground yonder, some elk a feedin’ down hyar. There was a herd of seven of ’em or more, an’ soon as I gets near enuf I lets drive at ’em; and just then, hullabaloo! I heart a screech like somethin’ awful, an’ a Injun starts up, just like a deer a walkin’ on his hind legs.”
“That’s an artful dodge they have of putting on the skin of some animal, and approaching unsuspiciously within shooting range without alarming their game.”
“Waal, this hyar Injun,” continued Seth, without noticing Mr Rawlings’ explanatory interruption, “rushed on to me like a mad bull in fly time, and seein’ as how he meant bizness; I drawed the trigger again, but missed him, and he flung his tommyhawk, which cotched my fut, and brought me to the ground as slick as greased lightnin’, you bet!”
“And gave you a bad wound, too,” said Mr Rawlings, who by this time had managed to take off Seth’s boot and disclose the extent of the injury, a pretty deep cut right across the instep, which would probably lame the ex-mate for life, as far as he could judge.
“Waal, it do hurt some,” said Seth, when Mr Rawlings proceeded to bandage up the foot in the same way as he had done the poor fellow’s side previously. “But I dersay I’ll git over it soon, gineral. Ef I seed Sailor Bill agin I wouldn’t care a cent about it, I guess!”
“How was it that they carried him off, and you escaped alive? I can’t think how they let you off when you were once down and at their mercy?”
“Oh, I made a pretty good fit of it, I reckon, with the butt-end of my rifle, and giv’ both them red devils somethin’ to remember Seth Allport by!—For there was two on ’em at me, as soon as Sailor Bill rushed in atween me an’ the fust Injun.”
“Did the boy really help you?” said Mr Rawlings in some surprise; for, as has been previously related, Sailor Bill had never exhibited any trace of emotional feeling from the time of his being picked up at sea, save on that memorable occasion immediately afterwards, when, it may be remembered, he rushed out of the cabin when the ship was taken aback.
“He did so,” answered Seth, “an’ the curiosest part of it wer he looked jest the same frightened like as when he saved me aboard the Susan Jane, with his har all on end—jes so.”
“It’s very extraordinary,” said Mr Rawlings; “and then they carried him off?”
“Waal, I was making a good fit of it as I told you, an’ when Sailor Bill rushes to help me a second Injun started up and collars him; and then I heard that air blessed dawg bark, and I knowed what it wer, an’ so did the Injuns too; for as I shouted out to let yer know whar we wer, they made tracks with pore Bill, lugging him off atween them over thaar,” said Seth, pointing eastwards, where, however, nothing could now be seen. “And that’s all you know about it?” said Mr Rawlings.
“Jes so,” replied Seth.
At the same moment the negro Jasper, who had been gazing fixedly in the direction in which Ernest Wilton had gone for aid, uttered an exclamation of frenzied delight, and began to caper about.
“Golly, Massa Rawlings,” cried he, “dere dey is! dere dey is!”
The negro was right. As he spoke Mr Rawlings and Seth could see a body of men advancing over the crest of the plateau, accompanied by a waggon drawn by a pair of mules. The young engineer had accomplished his mission well. Instead of publishing his news aloud, and thereby creating a commotion amongst the miners who would have all wished to rush off en masse to the assistance of Mr Rawlings and Seth Allport, both much liked by all, and the rescue of Sailor Bill, whom the men had got also attached to in the same way as the crew of the Susan Jane, Ernest drew Noah Webster on one side, and briefly told him what had occurred and what Mr Rawlings had ordered to be done.
Noah was equally prompt and discreet.
Mustering one of the gangs, who had completed their shift in sinking the new shaft and had had a rest, he told them to get their rifles quietly and accompany him to the prairie, when he mentioned casually, in a way they appeared to understand, the boss and manager had come across some “red game” and wanted their help.
At the same time the backwoodsman ordered Josh, who was nothing loth to have the chance of abandoning his caboose duties for a while, to have a couple of mules hitched to the waggon; while he beckoned Moose, the half-breed, who apparently suspected something was in the wind, to come towards him, when the two conferred, while the miners and Josh were getting ready.
The whole thing, indeed, was so well managed, that within ten minutes of Ernest Wilton’s arrival in camp, the rescuing party had started for the spot where Mr Rawlings and Seth and the terror-stricken Jasper were awaiting their approach: a band of strong, well-armed, resolute men, consisting, besides the young engineer himself and Noah Webster, of Moose the half-breed, Black Harry—one of the former crew of the Susan Jane, a muscular giant who would have been a match for three Indians in himself—and five of the miners, old “Californian stagers,” used to frontier life and rough and tumble fighting—in addition to Josh, of course, who drove the mule waggon.
As soon as the scene of the fray was reached, Seth was lifted carefully into the waggon and sent back to Minturne Creek, under the care of Jasper—who took the place of Josh as teamster, that darkey displaying considerably more pluck than the former, and evincing as much eagerness to encounter the Indians as Jasper did to avoid them—while the rescuing party followed on the trail of Sailor Bill’s abductors.