Proceeding noiselessly, and following the sound, he soon saw a sight that made him start. Gathered around a smoldering fire, that flickered faintly on their painted faces, were some twenty-five Indians!
Our hero only waited a moment to count their number, and then left the vicinity as noiselessly as he had come. Proceeding at once to his horse, he untied and mounted him, and was soon once more on the move. He did not know which way he was going, only that it was away from his unpleasant neighbors, who, fortunately for him, had not suspected his presence.
CHAPTER III.
THE FRIEND IN NEED.
“Blarst thar durned painted hides! I wish they’d shot an’ skulped me, ’fore they left me in sich a trap as this. Been here tew nights an’ one day, an’ am like tew be here, an’ make this my last restin’-place. I war a fool for ever fallin’ inter ther clutches.”
It was now the morning of the second day of Wild Nat’s enforced rest, and he paced restlessly up and down the narrow limits of his prison, or paused to gaze over the valley below. Frequently a bird skimmed beneath him, or wheeled close to his niche, and then away, as free as the air.
“Ef I only had you,” he muttered, watching one of those fleet-winged creatures skimming airily beneath him, “I believe I could eat you, feathers an’ all! Blarst the reds, anyhow! S’pose they thought ef they left me my weepons, it would aggravate me, seein’ I couldn’t use ’em. Wish they’d left me some ammunition. It wouldn’t done me any good, though; if I shot forty birds, I couldn’t git ’em.”
The pleasant June day wore on. Below in the valley the birds flitted from tree to tree, and squirrels ran chattering over the fallen trunks, or chased each other up and down the cottonwoods, and once a herd of buffalo went tearing down the further corner of the valley, and disappeared behind the woods beyond.
Still scorched by the sun, and pierced with the pangs of hunger, the trapper paced up and down his narrow beat, occasionally pausing and talking to himself. So the time passed until noon, and the tired hunter gave a glance at the sun, muttering:
“Noon again. I’ve a notion to jump down. But I might as well die here, as tew die jumpin’ off, an’ die I shall, for all I see. Cuss ’em, anyhow! If ever I git out, I’ll make ’em wish they’d killed me on the spot. But thar’s no use talkin’ ’bout gittin’ out. ’Way off in this wilderness, folks ain’t comin’ ’long every day, an’ I’m dished, that’s sartain. I never s’posed I war goin’ tew die like a rat in a trap, an’—waugh!”
The trapper paused abruptly, and strained his eyes to see some object afar in the distance, that had attracted his attention. After watching it a moment, he muttered: