“I guess ye never war,” said Wild Nat. “Not more’n a thousand times. It war a sight, Vic, tew see him drum his mule an’ holler—”
“Shet up!” roared Scip. “Where’s my hat?”
And jamming his tile down over his woolly head, the darkey left the cave. The trapper followed, and in silence they took their way to the dell. Arrived at the narrow gorge which led thither, the trapper told the negro to remain there while he went and attended to the horses.
“Keep a sharp eye out for reds,” he added, “an’ if any of ’em gobbles ye up, jest holler an’ I’ll be here in time tew sculp ye.”
With which comforting remark he vanished in the darkness, leaving the terrified African to his own reflections. He by no means relished the idea of being there alone, but knowing there was no alternative, he fortified his courage as well as he was able, and tried to think there was no danger.
“No sorter use in me standin’ here,” he grumbled, after some time; “ain’t a spec’ o’ danger of eny one comin’ ’long. De trufe is, he’s coward hisself. What’s dat black t’ing? Oh, de Lor’! S’pose it should be an Injun! ’Tain’t dat; it’s nothin’ but a stump. Why don’t dat feller come ’long?”
He leaned against the rocky wall, and peered fearfully around him, as if expecting to see something advance from the darkness upon him. To his terror his expectations were realized. Before him, at the distance of half a dozen yards, rose up a tall, dark form, which advanced toward him, with uplifted arm.
“Oh, de Lor’, I’m a goner!” yelled the terrified African, as he turned and ran precipitately toward the cave, followed by the object of his fright, at a little distance behind.
“Ha! ha!” chuckled the pursuer, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like the trapper’s. “He feels like runnin’ ef not like walkin’! Guess I’ll stop; he’ll think I’m arter him all the same.”
And the mischievous trapper slackened his pace, and walked leisurely along. Not so with Scip. He made the best time he was capable of, and that was by no means slow—stumbling over sticks and stones in his headlong career, and not once stopping to look behind. As he bowled along, head down and arms flying, he was suddenly grasped and thrown to the ground.