The young Indian, who was evidently proud of the trust reposed in him, and cared nothing for danger, stalked into the forest with the look and bearing of a dauntless warrior.
Chapter Ten.
Salamander Gives and Receives a Surprise, and War is Averted by Wise Diplomacy.
It has been already said that our interpreter, Salamander, possessed a spirit of humour slightly tinged with mischief, which, while it unquestionably added to the amusement of our sojourn in those lands, helped not a little to rouse our anxieties.
On returning to our men, after parting from Lumley, for the purpose of giving them their instructions, I found that Salamander was missing, and that no one could tell where he had gone. I caused a search to be made for him, which was unsuccessful, and would have persevered with it if there had not pressed upon me the necessity of obeying my chief’s orders to keep the savages amused. This I set about doing without delay, and having, like my friend, been a diligent student of the language on the journey, found that I succeeded, more than I had ventured to hope for, in communicating my ideas.
As the disappearance of Salamander, however, was the subject which exercised my mind most severely at the time, and as he afterwards gave me a full account of the cause in detail, I shall set it down here.
Being possessed that evening, as he confessed, with a spirit of restlessness, and remembering that our two Highlanders had been left to guard the camp at Lake Wichikagan, he resolved to pay them a visit. The distance, as I have said elsewhere, was not much more than six miles—a mere trifle to one who was as fleet as a young deer and strong as an old bear. He soon traversed the ground and came up to the camp.
At first he meant merely to give the men a surprise, but the spirit to which I have already referred induced him to determine on giving them a fright. Approaching very cautiously, therefore, with this end in view, he found that things were admirably arranged for his purpose.