In a very short space of time the women were as helpless as their masters. Then Gibault cut the thongs that bound his comrades, and set them free!
“Thanks, thanks to the Almighty,” said Bertram earnestly, when his bonds were cut. “I had thought that my days were numbered; that it was to be my sad fate to fill a grave here in the wilderness. But His hand is indeed mighty to save. And thanks be to you, good Gibault. Under God, we owe our lives to you.”
Bertram attempted to seize Gibault’s hand as he spoke, but his own hands refused obedience to his will. They had been so long and so tightly bound that they were utterly powerless.
“Rub ’em, rub ’em well,” said Gibault, seizing the artist’s hands and enforcing his own recommendation vigorously.
“Ay, that’s it,” said Redhand, who, with his companions, had, the instant he was loose, commenced to rub and chafe his own benumbed limbs into vitality, as if his life and theirs depended on their exertions—as indeed they did to no small extent, for, had they been called upon to fight or fly at that moment, they could have done neither.
“Now, lads,” said Bounce, who, having been a prisoner for but a short time, was unhurt by his bonds, “while ye rub the life into yer limbs I’ll tell ye wot we must do. Them scamps (pointing to the prostrate Indians) won’t lie there long. Of course, bein’ white men an’ Christians, we don’t mean to kill them or to lift their scalps—”
“I’ve know’d white men,” interrupted Redhand, “who called themselves Christians, and didn’t object to take scalps when they got the chance.”
“So have I,” returned Bounce, “an’ more’s the pity. It’s sichlike blackguards as these that keeps honest trappers and fur-traders for iver in hot water here. Howsomdiver, we’re not a-goin’ to turn ourselves into brute beasts ’cause they’ve turned theirselves into sich.”
“I’m not so sure o’ that,” broke in Big Waller, casting a scowling glance on the savages as he surveyed a wound in his left arm, which, although not serious, was, from want of dressing, sufficiently painful; “I calc’late it would serve them reptiles right if we was to whangskiver the whole on ’em as they lie.”
“I don’t b’lieve,” retorted Bounce, “that ‘whangskiver’ is either English, Injun, French, or Yankee; but if it means killin’, you’ll do nothing o’ the sort. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll ketch as many horses as wos took from Mr Bertram’s fellers, an’ as many guns too (the same ones if we can lay hands on ’em), an’ as much powder an’ shot an’ other things as that keg o’ brandy is worth, an’ then we’ll bid the redskins good-bye without wakenin’ of ’em up.”