Frank in the Mountains

by Harry Castlemon

  CHAPTER III.

  FRANK LEARNS SOMETHING.

  Frank was as frightened as a boy could be. Amazed at the suddenness ofthe assault, he gazed in stupid wonder at the savages, winked his eyeshard to make sure that he was not dreaming, and looked again. But therewas no dreaming about it--it was all a reality; and as he stood therepowerless among his captors, and looked at their glittering weapons, andpainted, scowling faces, all the stories he had heard the trappersrelate of their experience among the Indians, came fresh to his memory.He recognized one of the savages, and that was the chief. His blanketand buckskin hunting shirt were gone, he wore the tomahawk and scalpingknife in his belt, his face was covered with paint, and altogether helooked fierce enough to frighten any boy who had never seen Indians inwar costume before.

  Frank took these things in at a glance; and while he was wondering whatobject the Indians could have in view in capturing him, and what theyintended to do with him, he was trying hard to summon all his courage tohis aid, and to appear as unconcerned as possible. If there had been anyhostile Indians in that part of the country, he could have understoodthe matter; but he had been told that they were all friendly.

  "Look here, chief," said he, "I'd like to know what this means. You havemade a mistake."

  The savage paid no more attention to his words than if he had not spokenat all. He gave a few orders in his native tongue to his companions, twoof whom placed Frank on Roderick's back and held him there, while athird seized the horse by the bridle, and followed after the chief, wholed the way down the ravine. How far they went, or in what direction,Frank could not have told, for his mind was in too great confusion. Hewas trying to arrive at some satisfactory explanation concerning theIndians' conduct. He had expected that the first action on their partwould be to pull his hair, strike at him with their knives andtomahawks, point their guns and arrows at him, and try, by every meansin their power, to frighten him. That was the way they always servedtheir prisoners; but thus far he had no reason to complain of theirtreatment. He wished the chief would explain matters to him, and thusrelieve him of suspense.

  At the end of half an hour, during which time Frank made severalunsuccessful attempts to induce some of the Indians to talk to him, thechief emerged from the ravine, and led the way into a little valley,similar to the one in which Mr. Brent's rancho was located. The sightthat here met Frank's gaze astonished him. The valley was filled withlodges, and Frank saw more Indians at the single glance he swept aboutthe camp than he had ever seen before in all his life. Children wereplaying about in front of the lodges, the women were engaged in variousoccupations, and the braves, all of whom were in their war-paint,smoked their pipes, and lounged in the shade. Frank was greatly relievedto find that no one noticed the chief and his party. When he first camein sight of the village, he had screwed up all his courage again,expecting no very friendly reception. Bob and Dick had told him thatwhen they were carried into an Indian camp as prisoners, every man,woman, and child turned out to meet them, and to amuse themselves bybeating them with switches and clubs; but nothing of the kind wasattempted now. Those who looked at Frank at all, merely took one glanceat him; and the most of them did not even look up when he passed.

  The chief walked straight through the village, and stopped in front of alarge wigwam that stood a little apart from the others. At a sign fromhim, Frank was pulled from his horse, and after his hands had beenunbound, a corner of the wigwam, which served as a door, was lifted up,and he was pushed under it. Then the door was dropped to its place, andFrank heard the Indians moving off with Roderick.

  The light was all shut out from the inside of the lodge, and as soon asthe prisoner's eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he began to lookabout him. The lodge was about fifteen feet in diameter, and was builtof neatly-dressed skins, supported on a frame-work of saplings. Weaponsof all kinds were suspended from the walls, the chiefs blanket, bridle,spear, and head-dress occupied one corner, and several buffalo robes,which doubtless served him for a bed, were piled in another. There wasno one in the lodge, and Frank, being no longer compelled to wear theappearance of unconcern he had assumed while in the presence of theIndians, gave full vent to his pent-up feelings. His forced calmnessforsook him, a feeling of desolation such as he had never beforeexperienced came over him, and covering his face with his hands, hestaggered toward the buffalo robes, and threw himself upon them.

  "If I only knew what they intend to do with me," sobbed Frank, "I shouldnot feel so badly about it. If they have made up their minds to tie meto the stake, or to compel me to run the gauntlet, why don't they tellme so, and give me a chance to prepare for it? Can it be possible thatthat race and wrestling match have any thing to do with my capture? TheIndians seemed friendly enough when I first visited their camp at thetrading-post, and I'd like to know what they mean by taking me prisonerwhen I wasn't doing any thing to them! What could have induced them tochange their camp so suddenly, any how? A few hours ago there were notmore than a hundred in the band; now there must be five times as many,and the braves are all in war-paint, too? I can't understand it."

  A step outside the lodge, and a rustling among the skins which formedthe door, aroused Frank, and he once more made a strong effort tocompose himself. The door was raised, and a face appeared at theopening--a dark, scarred, scowling face, which was almost concealed by afur cap and thick bushy whiskers. Frank was thunderstruck. He leanedforward to examine the face more closely, and then his heart seemed tostop beating, and with a cry of alarm he sprang to his feet. As much ashe feared the Indians, he feared this man more.

  "Ah, my young cub, are you thar?" growled the visitor, as he steppedinto the lodge.

  "_Black Bill!_" exclaimed Frank, in dismay.

  "Ay! That's what they call me. 'Member me, don't you? Heered all aboutme, most likely, from ole Bob and Dick Lewis. They didn't tell younothin' good of me, I reckon."

  Frank tried to speak, but he seemed to have lost all control over histongue. He had trembled every time he thought of the night he had passedin the camp of the outlaws, and he had hoped that he should never meetthem again; but here he was, face to face with one of them, when heleast expected it.

  "I didn't kalkerlate on seein' you agin," said the outlaw, with a savagesmile, "an' I aint agoin' to say that I'm glad to see you now, 'cause Iaint. I hate any body that's a friend to Bob an' Dick, an' if I couldhave my way I'd split your wizzen fur you in a minit. But you b'long tothe chief, an' I don't reckon he would see harm come to you."

  "To the chief!" repeated Frank, drawing a long breath as if a heavyload had been removed from his shoulders. It was a great satisfaction tohim to know that this man could not do as he pleased with him.

  "That's what I said," replied the visitor.

  "But what does he want to do with me? What is his object in taking meprisoner?" asked Frank.

  "He's goin' to make an Injun of you."

  "What! I--you don't mean----"

  "Sartin I do. It's a fact. He's goin' to take you into the tribe an'make an Injun of you," said the outlaw, in a louder tone.

  "And never let me go home again, but keep me here always?" demandedFrank, growing more and more astonished.

  "Exactly!"

  "Well, he can't do it--he shan't. I don't want to be adopted into thetribe, and I won't be, either."

  "I don't reckon you can help yourself, can you?" said the outlaw, with agrin. "You see, the chief used to have a son just about your age--an' asmart, lively young Injun he was, too; but he was killed a little whileago in a scrimmage with the Blackfeet, an' the chief wants another.You're an amazin' chap fur runnin' an' wrastlin' fur one of your years,an' that's the reason he picked you out."

  "I don't care if it is; he sha'n't have me. I won't stay here and be hisson. Why, I never heard of such a thing. Why don't he select some Indianboy?"

  "That's his business, an' not mine. But if you only knowed it,youngster, it's lucky fur you that the chief tuk sich a monstrous fancyfur you, 'cause if you had stayed at
the fort, you would have beenmassacreed with the rest."

  "Massacred!" echoed Frank. "Killed!"

  "Yes; killed an' scalped. You'll hear of some fun at that tradin'-postafore you are two days older, an' then, if you go down thar, you won'tsee nothin' but the ashes of it. It would have been done last night ifthat ar fur trader had kept away from thar. We had to send off artermore help. I don't mind tellin' you this, 'cause 'taint no ways likelythat you'll ever have a chance to blab it. But I come in here to ax youabout Adam Brent. Where does he sleep?"

  Frank did not reply; indeed, he scarcely heard the question, his mindwas so busy with what the outlaw had said to him. He knew now where allthose Indians came from, and why they were there. The information he hadreceived almost paralyzed him, and he shuddered when he pictured tohimself the scenes of horror that would be enacted in that quiet valley,if the savages were permitted to carry out their designs. What wouldbecome of his cousin, of the trappers, of Captain Porter, and ofhimself? Of course his friends would all be included in the massacre,and he, having no one to look to for help, would be compelled to dragout a miserable existence among those savages. But Frank determined thatthe massacre should not take place. At the risk of his own life he woulddo something to stop it. His courage always increased in proportion tothe number of obstacles he found in his way, and the danger he was in,and now he was thoroughly reckless and determined.

  "I axed you do you know where Adam Brent sleeps?" said the outlaw, whohad grown tired of waiting for an answer to his question.

  "He sleeps in the house, of course," replied Frank.

  "Wal, I reckon I knowed that much afore you told me; but what part ofthe house?"

  "I can't tell. I haven't taken the trouble to inquire into Mr. Brent'sfamily matters."

  "I'll allow that you tell the truth thar; 'cause if you had axed anyquestions, you would know that Brent is my own brother, an' that Adam ismy nephew. Aint I a nice lookin' uncle?"

  "I don't believe a word of it. What do you want with Adam?

  "I reckon that's my business, aint it? I only axed you where he sleeps'cause I've got something to say to him to-night, an' I shouldn't careto have his father hear me blunderin' about the house. I've got a leetlebusiness with ole Bob Kelly, too."

  "If you will take my advice you will let him alone," said Frank. "DickLewis is his chum now."

  "That don't make no sort of difference to me. I'm half hoss an' halfbuffaler, with a leetle sprinklin' of catamounts, grizzly bars, an'sich like varmints throwed in. I'm one of them kind of fellers as don'tstand no nonsense from nobody; an' I'm the wust man in arough-an'-tumble this side of the States. I aint afeered of Dick Lewis."

  Having said this, the outlaw took his departure, and Frank, who had gonethrough this interview like one in a dream, again seated himself on thebuffalo robes to think over what he had heard, and to determine uponsome course of action. He had little imagined that he would ever beplaced in a situation like this, and he did not wonder now at the hatredwhich Dick and old Bob cherished toward the Indians. Here they were,awaiting the arrival of reinforcements, and preparing for a descent onthe fort; and there were his friends in the valley, all unconscious ofthe danger hanging over them. There had been no Indian depredations inthat section for a long time, and the officers of the fort and thesettlers had been lulled into a feeling of security that promised to befatal to them. They did not dream of such a thing as an attack; thefortifications had not been kept in a state of defense; and unless theywere warned of their danger, the success of the Indians would becomplete.

  "Oh, if they only knew what is going on here!" cried Frank, springing tohis feet, and pacing restlessly up and down the lodge. "If I could seethem for just one minute, wouldn't these savages meet with a warmreception when they make the attack on the fort? But how will they findit out unless I carry them the information; and how can I effect myescape, surrounded as I am by enemies?"

  This thought made Frank almost beside himself. It rendered himdesperate; and he resolved that if he could see the least chance forescape, he would make the attempt at once--that very moment. There wasnot a single instant to be lost, for there was no telling when theIndians would be ready to make the attack. He rushed to the door, toreit open, and looked out. The first object that met his gaze was awarrior standing close beside the lodge, leaning on his spear. He wasundoubtedly a sentry, and had been placed there to watch the prisoner.Frank took one glance at him, and then dropped the door to its place,and hurrying to the other side of the lodge pulled up the skins andlooked under them. He saw now what he had not noticed before--that thelodge in which he was confined was in the very center of the village.The nearest wigwams were pitched about fifty yards from it, leaving aclear space on each side that was devoted to the holding of councils anddances. Frank knew that he could never cross that space in broaddaylight without being discovered and recaptured, and with a look ofdisappointment on his face, he dropped the skins and crawled back to hisseat on the buffalo robes.