“Wal, the Injuns stayed round in the edge of the tim’er fur ’bout two hours, yellin’ an’ firm’ at us; but, knowin’ that they could not take the fort—fur they tried that twice—they all set up a yelp an’ put off, burnin’ every thing as they went. It war a sad day fur that settlement. Nigh every family war mournin’ fur somebody; but I war wusser off nor any of ’em. My mother carried a heap of years on her shoulders, an’ when she seed the ole man pulled down an’ scalped, it gave her a shock she never got over. We buried them both nigh the fort, an’ arter stayin’ round fur a week or two, I sot out with a party of trappers fur our ole huntin’ grounds on the Saskatchewan. I never forgot that young Injun, an’ all I keered fur or thought ’bout, war to meet him. I jest knowed that I should find him ag’in some day, an’ if I had met him among his tribe, with hundreds of his friends standin’ round, I would have knowed him.
“Wal, as I war sayin’, I sot out with this party of trappers, an’ it war on the Saskatchewan that I fust diskivered this chestnut king that I had made up my mind to have. I follered him a’most all winter, an’ the more I seed him run, the more I wanted to ketch him. I ’tended to my shar’ of the trappin’, but every chance I got I war arter them hosses. At last they put off somewhar, an’ I never seed ’em ag’in. I couldn’t think what had ’come on ’em, but I knowed that they had gone clean out of the country, an’ that I should have to look fur another hoss, an’ give up all hopes of ketchin’ the chestnut.
“When spring opened, an’ it come good travelin’ we held a council, an’ settled it that we should start fur the fort to onct. We war in a hurry to get away, too, fur some of our fellers had seen Injun sign ’bout two miles from the camp; so, one mornin’ we sot out to gather up our traps. I had ’bout five mile to go to reach my trappin’ ground, so I rode off on a gallop. I went along mighty keerless, fur I didn’t b’lieve what them fellers had said ’bout seein’ Injun sign, but I soon larnt that ole trappers never get fooled ’bout sich things. I hadn’t gone more’n a mile from the camp, when, whizz! something whistled by my head, an’ went chuck into a tree on the other side of me. It war an arrer, an’ afore I could look round to see whar it come from, I heered a yell, an’ the next minit a hoss popped out of the bushes, an’ came t’wards me. An Injun war on his back, an’ in one hand he carried a long spear, an’ with the other he held his bow an’ guided his hoss. As soon as he got cl’ar of the bushes, he p’inted that spear straight at my breast, an’ came at me, full jump. I war a youngster then. I hadn’t been in as many rough-an’-tumble fights with wild Injuns as I have been since, an’ I would have give all the spelter I had trapped that winter if I had been safe in camp. These war the fust thoughts that went through my mind. But arter I had tuk jest one good look at the Injun an’ his hoss, I wouldn’t have been away from thar fur nothin’. The Injun war the young chief that had rubbed out my ole man, an’ the hoss war the chestnut king—the very one I had been tryin’ to ketch fur a’most a year. So, you see, I had two things to work fur. Fust, I had swore to have that Injun’s scalp; next, I wanted that hoss; an’ I made up my mind that I wouldn’t leave that ’ar place till I had ’em both. The young chief war so clost to me that I didn’t have time to shoot, so I sot still in my saddle, an’ when I seed the p’int of the spear ’bout two foot from my breast, I stuck out my rifle an’ turned the we’pon aside. Then, jest as the Injun war goin’ by me, I ketched him by the scalp-lock, quicker nor lightnin’, an’ pulled him from his hoss. My own hoss warn’t trained wuth a plug o’ tobacker, an’, skeered by the fuss, an’ the Injuns yellin’, he give a jump, an’ the fust thing I knowed, me an’ the young chief war rollin’ on the ground together. I’ve had one or two wild savages by the top-knot since then, but I never got hold of a chap of his size that war so strong an’ wiry. When I fust ketched him, I allowed to rub him out easy, fur I war purty good on a rough-an’-tumble, an’ it warn’t every body that could take my measure on the ground; but when I ketched that Injun, I found that I had come acrost a varmint. We fell side by side, I all the while hangin’ on to his har; but afore I could think whar I war, or what a doin’, I found the young chief on top of me; an’, both his hands bein’ free, he commenced feelin’ fur his knife. In course I couldn’t allow that, so I ketched one of his arms, which he twisted out of my grasp, as easy as though I had no strength at all. I tried this two or three times, but findin’ that I couldn’t hold him, I fastened on his belt which held the knife, an’, with one jerk, tore it loose, an’ flung it over my head. The Injun, findin’ that his we’pon war gone, whooped an’ yelled wusser nor ever. We war on even terms now, fur my knife war under me, an’ neither of us could git at it. Then I began tryin’ to git him off me; but it war no use, an’ the Injun findin’ that I breathed hard, held still an’ quiet, hopin’ that I would soon tire myself out, an’ then he would have no trouble in gittin’ away from me. But I war layin’ my plans all this while, an’, watchin’ the Injun clost, I ketched him off his guard, an’ went to work in ’arnest. By the way that chap kicked an’ yelled, I guess he thought I had only been foolin’ with him afore, an’ the way he did fight warn’t a funny thing fur me to think of jest then. But it war no use. I thrashed around till I got hold of my knife, an’, in a minit arter that, the young chief had give his last yell. Arter bein’ sartin that he was done fur, I jumped up an’ run t’wards the mustang, which had stood a little way off watchin’ the fight, as though he war wonderin’ who would come out at the top of the heap. I ketched him easy, an’ arter takin’ the young Injun’s top-knot, I picked up his we’pons—here’s one of ’em, youngsters.”
As the trapper spoke, he drew his hatchet from his belt and handed it to Archie, who sat nearest him. The boys remembered that the first time they met old Bob, they had noticed that his hatchet was different from any they had ever seen. The blade was long and narrow, and as keen as a razor. The back part of the hatchet was hollow, as was also the handle, and thus the weapon could be made to answer the purpose of a pipe. The handle was also ingeniously carved, but was so worn by long and constant usage, that the figures upon it could not be distinguished. The travelers had often noticed that the old trapper was very particular about his “tomahawk,” as he invariably called it; but now that they knew its history, they did not wonder that he considered it worth preserving. When the boys had examined the weapon to their satisfaction, they returned it to old Bob, who continued:
“Wal, arter I had tuk the young chiefs scalp an’ we’pons, (I had his knife, too, but I lost that in the Missouri River by bein’ upset in a canoe,) I jumped on my new hoss, and rode t’wards the camp, leavin’ my ole mustang to go where he pleased. When I reached our fellers, I found ’em all busy packin’ up. They had diskivered signs of a large party of Injuns, an’ they said that the sooner we got away from thar the better it would be fur us. We traveled all that night an’ all the next day, an’ got safe off. I had the laugh on my side then, fur ’em fellers all said I couldn’t never put a bridle on the chestnut king; an’ when I told ’em my story ’bout the young chief, you ought to seed them open their eyes. I hadn’t been fooled ’bout the good pints of that ar’ hoss, fur he war a critter that suited me exactly. He carried me safe through many a fight with grizzly bars an’ Injuns; but, finally, I lost him but a few miles from whar I fust seed him—on the Saskatchewan. I never trapped on that river yet without losin’ somethin’. I have lost two chums thar; throwed away four or five winter’s work—or jest the same as throwed it away, fur all my furs war captur’d by the Injuns, an’ thar I lost this hoss.”
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
Old Bob’s Adventure.
