“I’m main hungry, Dick,” said Obed, “let us be going.”
Still something kept me there. Just as I was getting up, I thought I saw some dark shadows moving along over the white sheet of snow.
“Look, Obed,” said I, “what are those out there?”
His eyes were even sharper generally than mine.
“Indjens, red-skins,” whispered Obed. “It’s time that we cut. They are not far-off.”
We first, before moving, satisfied ourselves that we were not mistaken; there were a dozen or more people, probably the advance guard. We then slipped down from our height, and began striding towards the camp as fast as our legs and snowshoes would carry us. It was a satisfaction to feel that there was a high mound between us and the Indians, or our scalps would not have felt comfortable on our heads. We did not turn our eyes to the right hand or the left, but looked straight on, keeping our legs going with a curious movement, between sliding and running, and skating and kicking. It was fatiguing, but we got on rapidly, and we had an idea that our enemies were not advancing nearly so fast. It was a race for life or death. Strange to say, I rather liked the excitement.
I always prefer having an object when I walk; now I had got one. We knew that if the Indians crossed our trail, they would instantly find us out and give chase, but then it was a satisfaction to know that they could not go faster than we were going. We had got almost within sight of the camp, when we heard a shout from behind us. I was unwilling to stop to look back, but if I did not stop, and attempted to look over my shoulder, I should very likely, I knew, topple down on my head. On we went again. There was another shout. We could just see the tops of the huts. I turned my head round, and there I saw a dozen or more red-skin warriors scampering like mad creatures over the snow, and flourishing their tomahawks. Fast as we were going, they were going faster. Still we might reach the camp before them, but it was necessary to warn our friends. As I ran, I unslung my rifle, not to fire at them, for that would have been useless, but to discharge it in the air as a signal. I did so, but by some means, by this act, I lost my balance, and toppling over, down I came at full length. I tried to rise, but that on soft snow is no easy matter to do at the speed circumstances demanded; and then, what was my horror to find that I had broken one of my snow-shoes! I gave myself up for lost, and entreated Obed to fly and save his life.
“Fly, Dick!” he exclaimed indignantly; “that ain’t the way of the Raggets, boy. No; if the redskins want your scalp, they must have mine first, and I’ll have a fight for both of them, depend on’t.”
While he was saying this, he was helping me to rise, and as one snow-shoe would be worse than useless, I cast them both off, and then did what was the next best thing, loaded my rifle; and turning our faces to our approaching foes, we stood ready to receive them. When they saw us stop, they came on more leisurely. As they got nearer, I counted about a dozen of them only. On this my heart began to beat more regularly.
“I say, Dick, my scalp sits pleasanter, like, on my head,” observed Obed.