“Obed, my boy,” said I, “let us sally out and protect that poor fellow. If we do not, the red-skins will be up to him before he reaches this hill!”
Obed was not a man it was necessary to ask twice to do a thing of the sort, nor were his brothers or their followers. The order was sent rapidly round to assemble together; not a word was uttered above a whisper—the sentries were left standing at their posts as if unconscious of what was going on in the plain below. But a few seconds were expended in preparations.
“Now, my boys, down upon them!” exclaimed Obed, and at the word we sprang over our entrenchments as quick as lightning; we were up to the stranger, who for a moment was somewhat startled at our sudden appearance, but soon, comprehending the state of affairs, took shelter behind us while we sprang on to meet the Indians. We halted within ten yards of them, and poured in a volley from our rifles which brought nearly one-half of them to the ground.
The remainder hesitated an instant, then hearing our loud shouts and huzzas, and seeing us come on with our axes gleaming in our hands, they turned tail and scampered off as fast as they could go. To pursue them would have been dangerous with so large a number of their tribe in the neighbourhood, and it was very probable that they had an ambush near at hand ready to cut us off. The sound of our fire-arms brought up two of our scouts, who joined us as we were returning to our camp, but the third did not make his appearance, and we had too much reason to fear that he had fallen a victim to the Dacotahs. By the time we got back to camp we found Waggum-winne-beg and all his people, both men and women, turned out and ready to resist any attack which might be made on us. We waited under arms for some time, and then finding that the enemy did not seem inclined to approach, we posted sentries all round, with directions to keep a strict lookout, and to give notice directly they perceived any suspicious movement below, and then we once more sat down round our fire. Our number was increased by the stranger, of whom we had not till then had time to take any notice beyond observing that he was a white man, and that he was dressed in the usual rough costume of a trapper. We now perceived, as he sat close up to the fire with the palms of his hands spread out before it, that he looked famished and weary.
“Friend, thou art hungry,” said Obed, placing before him some dried deers’ flesh and biscuit, and filling him up a cup of spirits-and-water. “Eat that while we cook a more savoury mess.”
“Thank you,” said the stranger; “you have discovered my chief want.”
He showed that he spoke the truth by setting to work silently and heartily on the food like a man who had fasted long, and was in no way fastidious as to the nature of his provender, so that it was fit to support life. I have often felt ashamed of my civilised and refined friends as well as of myself, when I have watched the abstemious habits of those inhabitants of the backwoods. However varied, or however delicate, or highly flavoured the food placed before them, I have seen them over and over again sit down and help themselves to the nearest dish, eat as much as they required, and generally a very moderate quantity, and then perhaps, after taking a glass of cold water, get up and leave the table. We waited till the stranger had somewhat recovered his strength before asking him any questions. At last he stopped eating, gave his hunting-knife a turn or two over his legging, replaced it in its sheath, and looking up, said— “Well, friends, you’ve saved my life; I’ve to thankyou for that—not that I know that it is worth much; and now I guess you’d like to know where I come from, and what I’ve been about.”
We all told him that we should particularly like to hear something about him.
“Then I’ll tell,” he replied. “My name is Sam Short; I’m a free trapper; I’ve hunted this country, man and boy, for pretty well fifty years, and that’s a good slice in a man’s life. It was at the end of last fall that I and two companions started westward to trap beavers and shoot bears, or any other game which came in our way. We’d left our horses and taken to a canoe to paddle up the Kansas river. Both my companions, Tom Noggin and Silas Blount, were staunch fellows. It doesn’t do to have a man in our way of life one can’t depend on. We had passed several beaver dams, which we settled to visit on our return, and as long as the season would allow to push higher up the stream. There’s no pleasanter life than that we led. We landed when we felt inclined to stretch our legs and take a shot at a deer or a bear. We killed more deer than we could eat, so we only kept the tenderest parts; but the skins were of no little value.
“One evening we landed at an open spot, with plenty of thick trees though growing round, intending to camp there. We had lighted a small fire, and we took care that the wood was dry, so that it should send up no smoke to show our whereabouts to any lurking red-skins; Silas and Noggin took their guns, and said they would go and have a look for a deer, or a bear, or a turkey, while I sat over the fire and cooked the venison. I cut some right good steaks, and had dressed them to a turn, and was thinking that it was time my companions were back, when I heard Blount’s voice singing out merrily as he came through the wood towards me. We had no fear of red-skins, for we had met with no traces of them as we came up the river, and the first thing we had done that day on landing was to look about for them in every direction. Blount sat himself down by my side and showed me a fat turkey he had just killed, when we heard a shot at some distance from us. We waited some time, thinking Noggin would be coming back; but, as he did not make his appearance, I asked Blount to climb a tree and see if he could make him out anywhere. Curiously enough, he slung his rifle on his back—he had already his shot belt and powder-horn about him—and up a high tree, a little way off, he went. Scarcely had he got to the top, when I heard him cry out, ‘Fly, man, fly; the red-skins are on us!’