“At Ten-mile Creek,” replied Cameron with an expression of bitterness, as he caught up his gun and shouted to several men, who hurried up on seeing our hero’s burst into camp.
“Ten-mile Creek!” muttered Dick. “I’ll bring ’em in, though,” he continued, glancing at several of the camp horses that grazed close at hand.
In another moment he was on Charlie’s back, the line of one of the best horses was in his hand, and almost before Cameron knew what he was about he was flying down the valley like the wind. Charlie often stretched out at full speed to please his young master, but seldom had he been urged forward as he was upon this occasion. The led horse being light and wild, kept well up, and, in a marvellously short space of time, they were at Ten-mile Creek.
“Hallo, Dick, wot’s to do?” inquired Joe Blunt, who was up to his knees in the water, setting a trap at the moment his friend galloped up.
“Injuns! Where’s Henri?” demanded Dick.
“At the head o’ the dam there.”
Dick was off in a moment, and almost instantly returned with Henri galloping beside him.
No word was spoken. In time of action these men did not waste words. During Dick’s momentary absence, Joe Blunt had caught up his rifle and examined the priming, so that when Dick pulled up beside him, he merely laid his hand on the saddle, saying, “All right!” as he vaulted on Charlie’s back behind his young companion. In another moment they were away at full speed. The mustang seemed to feel that unwonted exertions were required of him. Double weighted though he was, he kept well up with the other horse, and in less than two hours after Dick’s leaving the camp the three hunters came in sight of it.
Meanwhile Cameron had collected nearly all his forces, and put his camp in a state of defence before the Indians arrived, which they did suddenly, and, as usual, at full gallop, to the amount of at least two hundred. They did not at first seem disposed to hold friendly intercourse with the trappers, but assembled in a semicircle round the camp in a menacing attitude, while one of their chiefs stepped forward to hold a palaver. For some time the conversation on both sides was polite enough, but by degrees the Indian chief assumed an imperious tone, and demanded gifts from the trappers, taking care to enforce his request by hinting that thousands of his countrymen were not far distant. Cameron stoutly refused, and the palaver threatened to come to an abrupt and unpleasant termination just at the time that Dick and his friends appeared on the scene of action.
The brook was cleared at a bound; the three hunters leaped from their steeds and sprang to the front with a degree of energy that had a visible effect on the savages, and Cameron, seizing the moment, proposed that the two parties should smoke a pipe and hold a council. The Indians agreed, and in a few minutes they were engaged in animated and friendly intercourse. The speeches were long, and the compliments paid on either side were inflated, and, we fear, undeserved; but the result of the interview was, that Cameron made the Indians a present of tobacco and a few trinkets, and sent them back to their friends to tell them that he was willing to trade with them.