Jerrold was haltingly repeating this after Raymond when Captain Howard came out of his office, and seeing the group took his way toward it. Raymond’s back being toward him, he did not perceive the commandant’s approach and continued the invocation, delivering it ore rotundo in imitation of the sonorous elocution of the Indians.
It sounded very clever to Captain Howard, who always declared he envied the facility with which the young officers picked up the colloquial use of the Indian languages. He took no trouble himself to that end, however. In his adoption of the adage with reference to the difficulty of teaching an old dog new tricks, he did not adequately consider the disinclination of the dog to the acquisition of fresh lore. The younger men were more plastic to new impressions; they exerted a keener observation; and felt a fresher interest, and few there were who had not some familiarity with the tongue and traditions of the tribe of Indians about the fort, and those among whom their extensive campaigns had taken them.
“What does all that mean?” Captain Howard asked curtly.
Raymond translated, and explained Jerrold’s predicament and his need of luck in default of skill. Then he turned with animation toward the target, to celebrate the famous hit of Miss Howard’s arrow in the bull’s-eye while she stood flushing and smiling and prettily conscious beside him. But Captain Howard laid a constraining hand on his arm and looking at him with earnest eyes, demanded, “Where did you get all that Cherokee stuff?”
“Oh, in the campaigns in the Cherokee country,” Raymond answered, “I picked up a deal of their lingo.” For Raymond had served both in Montgomery’s campaign and Grant’s subsequent forays through this region two years ago, and his active mind had amassed much primitive lore, which, however, he had never expected to use in any valuable sort.
“Were you ever in Choté, Old Town?” queried the captain.
“I was there on one occasion, sir” said Raymond now surprised and expectant.
“Then go there again,—take twenty picked men,—your own choice,—and set out to-morrow at daybreak. Report for final orders this evening at retreat.”
Arabella, dismayed and startled, felt her heart sink. She turned pale and tremulous; she did not know if a cloud passed over the sun, but for her the light of the day was quenched. She could not understand Raymond. His face was transfigured with a glow of delight. She could not imagine the zest of such an employ to a young officer, brave, ardent, eager to show his mettle, ambitious of any occasion of distinction. This was his first opportunity. A distant march,—a separate command of experienced soldiers,—even if only twenty! The dignity of the prospect set Raymond all a-quiver. What cared he for the jungles of the wild mountains, the distance, the toils, the danger! As to the Indians,—it behooved the nations to look to their safety when he was on the march with twenty men at his back! His cheek was scarlet; his eyes flashed fire; he responded with a staid decorum of acquiescence, but it was obvious that in his enthusiasm for the opportunity he could have fallen at the feet of the commandant and kissed his hands in gratitude.