With a snort like that of an angry beast, Turtle Foot turned over on the ground and scrambled to his feet. Fearing trouble, Dave started for the doorway to the trading-post. Then he thought of the horses tied some distance away and hesitated, fearing to leave them unwatched. In another moment Turtle Foot staggered up to him and caught him again by the arm.
“White boy shall pay!” he cried, in a rage, and now one hand slid under his blanket and came forth again clutching a long hunting knife.
CHAPTER V
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
It must be confessed that Dave was both startled and dismayed by the sudden turn affairs had taken. He had not wished to quarrel with Turtle Foot from the start, but the half drunken Indian was one of those persistent fellows who could not be avoided.
“Put down that knife!” he said, in as steady a voice as he could command. “Put it down!” And then he caught hold of the red man’s wrist and held on with all his strength. At once the fellow began to struggle, and Indian and boy swayed back and forth in front of the trading-post. The other Indians looked on in expectancy, but nobody tried to stop Turtle Foot in his evil intention to injure the youth.
Strange as it may appear, Dave did not think to cry out until it was too late, and even if he had done so, it is doubtful if he would have been heard above the general uproar the Indians were making. He felt himself pressed back against a stockade and then his foot slipped in a puddle of water and he went down on his knees. Instantly the Indian’s hand left his arm and glided to his throat and the red man held the knife aloft in front of his eyes.
“Consarn you!”
The exclamation came very much in the nature of an explosion, and was followed by the leap of a white man directly behind the Indian. Like a flash Turtle Foot was yanked backward by his hair and his hunting knife twisted from his grasp. Then the newcomer raised the Indian bodily over his head, rushed across the roadway, and threw the fellow into a ditch, where he went to the bottom with a loud splash.
“Thar, you miserable critter, lie thar and cool off! If you ever dare to tech this lad ag’in I’ll split your wizen fer you! The idee of you a-coming to the post to git rum and then cutting up sech a shindy as this! Clar out with you afore I kick you so full of holes your own squaw won’t know you! And you other redskins, you behave yourselves, or I’ll cut loose, and thar will be some tall shooting and knifing going on, I’ll warrant you!” And the speaker ended with a fist shaking that made the Indians retreat in all directions. They knew the man who spoke and knew he meant all that he said.
“Sam Barringford!” ejaculated Dave, joyfully, as he arose to his feet. “I’m mighty glad you came.”