We naturally, forgetting all about the big-horns, thought only of how we could best convey Charley to the camp. As we had come over some excessively rough ground, it would be no easy matter to get him there.
“Then go back to your friends, and get them to move camp up here,” said the trapper; “by keeping along the lower ground, they can be here quickly, and it’s a more secure spot, I guess, than where they are.”
I asked Long Sam, who now came up, to go back with a message to our friends, as I was unwilling to leave Charley. This he agreed to do, and Folkard was glad to have me remain. The food quickly revived Charley, when Folkard went off to fetch some water from a neighbouring spring. We then together carried him to the trapper’s camp, which was not many paces off, though so securely hidden that even an Indian’s eye could scarcely have detected it.
This done, I looked out anxiously for the arrival of our friends. The shades of evening were already extending far away over the lower ground.
“They’ll surely come!” I said to myself. Presently I caught sight of our party, and shouted to them to come on.
Poor Dick burst into tears when he saw Charley, partly from joy at having found him, and partly from pity at his condition.
It was some time before Charley could speak. The first use he made of his returning strength, was to tell us that he had been captured by Indians, and kept a prisoner ever since,—exactly as old Folkard had supposed; that he was not as badly treated as he expected, but so strictly watched, that in spite of all the attempts he had made, he could not effect his escape until two days before, when he found that a war-party was about to set off to attack an emigrant train coming westward, of which they had just gained tidings. While the braves were performing their war-dance to the admiration of the squaws, he had managed to slip out of camp unperceived, his intention being to warn the white men of their danger. The train had been encamped some days, and it was not known how soon they would move forward. He had hoped therefore to be in time, as the Indians would not venture to attack them while they remained stationary.
On hearing this we were all eager to set out to the rescue of the white people. Armitage especially was unusually excited, but to move at that time of night, with our horses already tired, the country also being of a somewhat rough description, was scarcely possible. Old Folkard, as well as Pierre and Long Sam, was of opinion that we should gain time by waiting, as we might otherwise lose our way, or lame our animals over the rocky tract we should have to pass. We arranged therefore to wait for daylight, and it was settled that the Canadian should remain with the old trapper to assist him in taking care of Charley, and looking after our baggage mules and spare horses. The greater part of the night was spent in cleaning our rifles and pistols, as we expected to have use for them should we find that the emigrant train had moved on, and that the Indians had kept up their intention of attacking it. We breakfasted before dawn so that we might ride if necessary several hours without food, and might be some distance on our way before the first streaks of the coming day should appear in the sky.
Pierre and Long Sam, after a consultation, undertook to guide us, so that we might fall in with the usual track followed by emigrants, a short distance only to the northward of the place where we were encamped. We felt somewhat anxious about leaving Charley in his present state, with so slender a guard.
“Do not trouble yourselves about that,” observed the old trapper. “I’ll keep a good look-out, and no Redskins are likely to come this way.”