The sturdy backwoodsman did not seem to place much confidence in the fidelity of his new acquaintance, and bluntly observed to Pierre, “For sure, I never saw an uglier crittur, and his eyes rolled from side to side with an underlook that I don’t half like: perhaps he’ll lead us into some ambush of Upsarokas, or other mountain Ingians, rather than to a herd of deer.”
“You need not be afraid, Baptiste,” replied his brother hunter, laughing; “these poor Root–diggers are harmless and honest in their own miserable way. They are said to belong to the Shoshonies, or Snake–tribe, and are the best of all the Ingians hereabouts; not such fighting devils as the Black–feet, nor such thieves as the Crows, but friendly to the Whites. This poor crittur has been digging for roots many a long day with that sharpened flint, which you see in his hand. After you have started on your hunting trip, make him a present of a good knife. I have watched his eyes roving from belt to belt; he would give his ears for one, and yet is too frightened to ask for it.”
“Thanks for the hint, Pierre,” said his companion, looking carefully to the priming of his rifle; “thanks for the hint. I will carry a spare one with me on purpose; and in case we should fall in with a fat herd, do you, friend War–Eagle, give us the company of one of your stoutest men, that he may assist in bringing in enough meat for the party.”
On hearing these words, Prairie–bird inquired of the Root–digger, by signs, whether one of the mules could not go over the hunting–ground. The savage looked first at the animal, then at the fair speaker, and then, with a grin, gave a most decided indication of a negative.
The preparations for the hunt were soon made. Prairie–bird urged Reginald in a low voice, not to remain too long absent, a command which he faithfully promised to obey; and just as he was about to set forth, he led her up to the chief, and said, “War–Eagle will take care of his sister?”
The Indian’s proud heart was gratified by this simple proof of his friend’s unbounded confidence; he saw that no jealousy, no doubt of his victory over self, lurked in the breast of Reginald, and he replied, “While War–Eagle has life to protect her, Olitipa shall be safe as in the lodge of Tamenund.”
Reginald turned and followed Baptiste and the Root–digger, who had already taken their way up the valley, accompanied by the Delaware selected to aid in carrying home the anticipated booty.
Leaving them to toil up one rocky steep after another, wondering at the enduring agility of the Shoshonie dwarf, who seemed almost as active and sure–footed as one of the mountain–goats of which they were in search, we will return to the valley where War–Eagle’s camp was posted, which formed, as we have before noticed, a pleasing contrast to the savage scenery around. The stream that flowed through its centre, fresh from the snowy bosom of the mountain was cool and clear as crystal, and the shade of the trees which grew along its banks was delightfully refreshing after the fatigues of a summer march, even in a region, the elevation of which rendered the atmosphere extremely cold before the rising and after the setting of the sun. Prairie–bird felt an irresistible desire to stroll by the banks of this stream,—a desire that was no sooner mentioned by Lita to War–Eagle than he at once assented, assuring her that she might do so in safety, as his scouts were on the look–out both above and below in the valley, so that no enemy could approach unperceived. At the same time he gave instructions in the camp that none of the men should wander to that quarter, in order that it might be left altogether undisturbed.
Shortly afterwards Prairie–bird set forth, taking in her hand a mocassin, which she was ornamenting with stained quills for the foot of Reginald, and accompanied by her faithful Lita, who bore upon her hand a bundle containing various articles belonging to her mistress and to herself, on which she was about to exercise her talents as a laundress.
They had pursued their respective avocations for several hours without interruption, when on a sudden they heard the report of a rifle and the voice of a man shouting, as if engaged in the pursuit of game. This was an occurrence to which both were so much accustomed, that they paid at first little attention to it; but they felt some alarm when they saw one of their party, a white hunter, coming towards them as if running for his life. Before reaching the spot where they were seated, he threw his rifle upon the ground and climbed into a tree; immediately afterwards a young male, not full–grown, of the species called the grisly or rocky mountain bear, came up, limping as if wounded by the rifle so lately discharged, and missing the object that he had been following, looked around him, howling with mingled rage and pain. At length he caught sight of Prairie–bird and her companion; and setting up a more loud and angry howl, trotted towards them. Unfortunately, the spot to which they had retired was a narrow strip of wooded ground, projecting into a curve of the stream above mentioned, and they could not retreat towards the camp without approaching yet nearer to the wounded bear. There was no time for reflection; and in the sudden emergency, Prairie–bird hesitated whether she should not adopt the desperate alternative of throwing herself into the water, in hopes that the stream might carry her out of the reach of danger.