CHAPTER XVIII.
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.