“I judge ye won’t git back to St. Louis,” said Ben. “Them chaps don’t look much ez ef they meant to let ye, do they? I judge not. Anyway, I’ve got my opinion, and I’ll back it, thet they begin to gnaw ye in just ten minnits by the sun. They make short work of a Dutchman.”
“Don’t I know you, Penn Miffin? Don’t I know you so vell ash never vas? Dey can’t climb no more as a pig. You’s a liar, unt you knows you pe a liar. I never sees a vorse vun.”
“Jest wait a bit, my lad,” said Ben. “I’ll come to you by and by.”
“I’d rather pe licked py a man dan swallowed py a volfs,” whimpered Jan. “I fights dem, anyway. I pees not afraid of dem no more ash you. Coom; vy you no shoots?”
“Shet up!” said Ben. “Somebody is coming. Hark!”
CHAPTER VII.
INDIANS!
As he spoke, the wolves scattered right and left, and ran in terror up the gullies at the sides of the pass. The men in the trees remained still as death, one from terror, the other from caution.
There was good reason for the hasty fight of the wolves and the silence of the men hidden in the trees. A band of savages were coming down the mountain pass, admirably mounted, dressed in the gaudy style of the Indian warrior, with flaming feathers and beaded garments. Each poised in his right hand a long buffalo-lance, which they managed to carry gracefully, without appearing to incumber them. Some of them bore a small shield of buffalo-hide, but most of them rather depended upon their own activity than this slight defense. In front of the band rode a tall chief in a rich costume, with a belt of worked wampum thrown over his shoulder and buckled about his waist. He eschewed the lance, and carried instead a beautiful rifle. His figure was commanding, and he had a noble head, a nose cut like Cæsar’s, and a firm mouth. His eye was black and piercing. His hair long and dropping on his shoulders. By his side, armed in every respect like the elder, rode the boy who had been taken prisoner by the trapper on the prairie and threatened by Jules.
The party might have contained a hundred in all, and a single glance convinced the trapper that they were Blackfeet. They pulled up at the skeleton of the bear, uttering cries of surprise, for, of all animals, they think the grizzly bear the fiercest, and most to be feared. They dismounted and examined the body. The head had been untouched by the wolves, and the gaping wound was revealed.
They crowded together about the body, chattering loudly, putting their hands into the wound, and evidently wondering what weapon could have inflicted it. Even the chief descended and looked at the body.