CHAPTER XVII.
ACROSS THE PLAINS.
THE MOMENT Julian’s eyes rested upon the strange horseman he asked himself where he had seen him before. There was something about him that looked familiar. He was dressed in rough clothing, like the rest of the emigrants, wore high-top boots and a broad felt hat. His hair was cut close to his head, and his face, which was dark and haughty, was clean shaven; although the blue shade about his chin and upper lip showed that goatee and mustache had recently been growing there. His voice sounded strangely familiar, too, although Julian could not recollect where he had heard it before.
The man announced that he was bound for San Francisco, and that having been obliged to make his preparations for the journey in great haste, in order to join that wagon train, he had had no opportunity to lay in a supply of provisions. As their mess appeared to be small he would be glad to join it, if the men had no objections, and was willing to pay liberally for the privilege. Julian’s new friends had no objection whatever. They liked good company, and if the stranger would agree to pay his share of the provisions he might come in and welcome. And so the matter was settled, and the new-comer became a member of Julian’s mess.
Our hero had never carried a lighter heart than he did during that afternoon’s ride. He no longer felt that he was utterly forsaken in the world. He had some one to talk to now—men who had never seen or heard of him before, who did not even know his name, but who nevertheless sympathized with him and took an interest in his affairs. And it was because these new-found friends were strangers to him that Julian felt safe in their company. He was still suspicious of the guide, notwithstanding the high terms of praise in which he had been spoken of by the members of his mess, and he disliked the appearance of the new emigrant also.
The latter seemed desirous of cultivating the boy’s acquaintance. He addressed a good many of his remarks to him, and whenever he said anything that he thought to be particularly interesting or witty, he would look at Julian and wink. This was quite enough to excite the boy’s suspicions; but he comforted himself with the thought that neither the guide nor the emigrant would dare molest him in the presence of the whole wagon train, and that he would take care never to be left alone with them.
The afternoon passed quickly away, and it was sunset almost before Julian knew it. His day in the saddle had severely tested his endurance, and he was glad indeed when the train came to a halt. Being desirous of showing his new friends that he appreciated their kindness to him, he assisted them in making the camp, unharnessing the mules, providing the wood for fire, and bringing the water with which to fill the camp-kettle. The guide, whom he had not seen during the whole of the afternoon, made his appearance when supper was ready, and so did the emigrant; but the latter did not approach the fire. He stopped at a respectful distance, looked hard at Silas, whose back was turned toward him, and then walked quickly out of sight. Julian, astonished at his singular behavior, looked around at the other members of the mess to see if any beside himself had observed it; but the men were too busy with their corn-bread and bacon to pay any attention to what was going on outside their own camp.
Supper over, Silas and his companions stretched themselves on their blankets to enjoy their pipes, while Julian busied himself in gathering up the dishes and packing the remains of the supper away in the wagon. This done, he went out for a stroll down the road; he wanted to see how the camp looked by moonlight.