Afar in the Forest

by William Henry Giles Kingston

I told Manilick how glad I was to hear this, and wished him every happiness.

We encamped that night in a wood near a stream, which we reached just before dark. The same precautions were taken against surprise which our small band had considered necessary; for, Manilick told me, should the Apaches discover his trail, they would be certain to attack him.

“However,” he observed, “we have hitherto been preserved by the Great Spirit, and we have no fear of the result of a fight.”

“Then you cannot be said altogether to have buried the hatchet,” I observed.

“We have resolved to attack no one, and the sin will lie with those who attack us,” he answered; “while it is possible, we will avoid a quarrel, and proceed peaceably on our way.”

As Manilick’s party was numerous and well-armed, they were calculated to inspire respect; and if any foes did approach the camp, they probably thought it prudent to retire to a distance.

The next morning we continued our march, and towards evening came in sight of a thick wood. I saw that Manilick’s eagerness increased as we rode on. We were still at some little distance from the wood, when I observed a man with a gun in his hand issuing from under the shelter of the trees. He looked towards us, apparently suspicious as to who we were. I had no doubt, from his appearance, that he was a Paleface; and as we got still nearer to him, to my infinite satisfaction I recognised Mike Laffan. He knew me almost at the same moment, and throwing up his cap, and giving vent to an Irish shout of joy, he ran forward.

“Sure! is it you, Masther Roger dear, alive and well?” he exclaimed. “It brings back joy to me heart, for it was mighty throubled at the thoughts that you were lost intirely.”

I jumped from my horse to receive the greetings of the honest fellow. He had, I found, overcome with the poignancy of his feelings at the thought of my death, been knocked up, and had remained with Kepenau, whose camp he told me was concealed within the wood. He led the way round to a narrow opening, where Manilick dismounted. Proceeding through it, we soon reached an open spot on which Kepenau had pitched his tents. He himself was the first person who advanced to greet us. Behind him stood Ashatea, a lovely specimen of an Indian girl, her countenance beaming with that intelligence which education could alone have given her. Though she met Manilick with a bashful reserve, I had little doubt that she had at length bestowed on him the heart he sought. Still I recollected honest Reuben’s admiration. Yet I was very glad that it was so; for, charming as he might deem her, she was still a child of the desert,—and one of our fair countrywomen would, I was very sure, make him a far more useful and companionable wife than Ashatea would prove.

Kepenau told me that he intended to pitch his tents in the neighbourhood of the proposed settlement—remarking that he should now have no fear of his people being seduced by the terrible “fire water”—and that he hoped to change his skin-tents into substantial dwellings like those of the Palefaces, and to cultivate the ground instead of depending on the chase for subsistence. In the meantime, however, he and his people must hunt the buffalo and deer to obtain support for themselves and their families; and he was only awaiting the arrival of Manilick and his tribe to set out with that object, as provisions were already running short in the camp. Though I had borne the journey, I felt too much exhausted and weak to accompany him; and as both Mike and Pablo were much in the same condition, they insisted on taking care of me and themselves without troubling the Indians, who had plenty to do in guarding the camp and looking after the horses.