When the hunter had stood for full five minutes gazing at the beautiful scenery by which he was surrounded, it suddenly occurred to him that a pipe would render him much more capable of enjoying it; so he sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree, leaned his gun on it, pulled the fire-bag from his belt, and began to fill his pipe, which was one of the kind used by the savages of the country, with a stone head and a wooden stem. It was soon lighted, and Jasper was thinking how much more clear and beautiful a landscape looked through tobacco smoke, when a hand was laid lightly on his shoulder. Looking quickly round, he beheld a tall dark-faced Indian standing by his side.
Jasper betrayed neither alarm nor surprise; for the youth was his own comrade, who had merely come to tell him that the canoe in which they had been travelling together, and which had been slightly damaged, was repaired and ready for service.
“Why, Arrowhead, you steal on me with the soft tread of a fox. My ears are not dull, yet I did not hear your approach, lad.”
A smile lighted up the countenance of the young Indian for a moment, as he listened to a compliment which gratified him much; but the grave expression which was natural to him instantly returned, as he said, “Arrowhead has hunted in the Rocky Mountains where the men are treacherous; he has learned to tread lightly there.”
“No doubt, ye had need to be always on the look out where there are such varmints; but hereaway, Arrowhead, there are no foes to fear, and therefore no need to take yer friends by surprise. But ye’re proud o’ your gifts, lad, an’ I suppose it’s natural to like to show them off. Is the canoe ready?”
The Indian replied by a nod.
“That’s well, lad, it will be sun-down in another hour, an’ I would like to camp on the point of pines to-night; so come along.”
“Hist!” exclaimed the Indian, pointing to a flock of geese which came into view at that moment.
“Ah! you come of a masterful race,” said Jasper, shaking his head gravely, “you’re never content when ye’ve got enough, but must always be killing God’s creatures right and left for pure sport. Haven’t we got one grey goose already for supper, an’ that’s enough for two men surely. Of course I make no account o’ the artist, poor cratur’, for he eats next to nothin’. Hows’ever, as your appetite may be sharper set than usual, I’ve no objection to bring down another for ye.”
So saying the hunter and the Indian crouched behind a bush, and the former, while he cocked his gun and examined the priming, gave utterance to a series of cries so loud and discordant, that any one who was ignorant of a hunter’s ways must have thought he was anxious to drive all the living creatures within six miles of him away in terror. Jasper had no such wish, however. He was merely imitating the cry of the wild geese. The birds, which were at first so far-off that a rifle-ball could not have reached them, no sooner heard the cry of their friends (as they doubtless thought it) than they turned out of their course, and came gradually towards the bush where the two men lay hidden.