“Sure, then, yer hope stands on a bad foundation, an’ the sooner we make up our minds to be skivered the better, for sartin am I that our doom is fixed. Don’t ’ee think so, Bunco?”
The worthy appealed to was busily engaged in tearing to pieces and devouring a mass of dried buffalo meat, but he looked up, grinned, and nodded his head, as if to say that he believed Larry was right, and that in his opinion being roasted, torn, tortured, and skivered was rather a pleasant prospect than otherwise.
“I have two reasons for bein’ hopeful,” observed Big Ben, after a short silence. “One is that I never got into a scrape in my life that I didn’t get out of somehow or another, and the other reason is that I have observed signs on the trees that tell me the enemies, for whom the Redskins are seeking, are aware of their bein’ on the trail and will give them a warm reception, perhaps sooner than they expect.”
“What signs do you refer to?” asked Will Osten. “I see no sign of man having been here.”
“Perhaps not, and by good luck neither do the Injuns, for why, they can’t read handwritin’ as is not meant for ’em, but I know somethin’ of the tribe they are after, an’ one or two small marks on the trees tell me that they are not far distant. No doubt they will attack the camp at night.”
“Ochone!” groaned Larry, “an’ won’t they brain an’ scalp us wid the rest, an’ our hands tied so that we can’t do nothin’ to help ourselves?”
“It is possible they may,” returned the trapper; “and if they do we can’t help it, but let me warn you all, comrades, if we are attacked suddenly, let each man drop flat on the grass where he sits or stands. It is our only chance.”
Poor Larry O’Hale was so overcome by the gloomy prospects before him that he dropped flat on his back then and there, and gave vent to a grievous sigh, after which he lay perfectly still, gazing up at the stars and thinking of “Ould Ireland.” Being possessed of that happy temperament which can dismiss care at the shortest possible notice, and being also somewhat fatigued, he soon fell sound asleep. His companions were about to follow his example when they heard a whizzing sound which induced them suddenly to sink down among the grass. At the same moment an appalling shriek rudely broke the silence of the night, and two of the sentinels fell, transfixed with arrows. One of these lay dead where he fell, but the other sprang up and ran quickly, with staggering gait, after his comrades, who at the first alarm had leaped up and bounded into the nearest underwood, followed by a shower of arrows. That these deadly messengers had not been sent after them in vain was evinced by the yells which succeeded their discharge. A moment after, several dark and naked forms glided swiftly over the camp in pursuit. One of these, pausing for one moment beside the dead Indian, seized him by the hair, passed his knife swiftly round the head so as to cut the skin all round, tore off the scalp, and stuck it under his girdle as he leaped on in pursuit.
Fortunately the prisoners were not observed. Larry on being awakened by the yell had half raised himself, but, recollecting Big Ben’s caution, dropped down again and remained perfectly still. The attacking party had, of course, seen the sentinels fall and the rest of the warriors spring up and dart away, and naturally supposing, doubtless, that no one would be so foolish as to remain in the camp, they had passed on without discovering the prisoners. When they had all passed, and the sounds of the fight were at a little distance, Big Ben leaped up and exclaimed:—
“Comrades, look sharp, moments are golden. They’ll be back like a shot! Here, Larry, grip this in yer hand an’ stick the point of it agin’ that tree.”