CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
BUSINESS UNPLEASANTLY INTERRUPTED--THE MOUNTAIN FORT IN DANGER--TRAPPERSTO THE RESCUE--A RUDE MEETING WITH FOES IN THE DARK--A WILD RACE--MARCHMEETS WITH A SEVERE MISFORTUNE.
One morning, just as the trappers were dropping into camp about theusual breakfast hour, laden with the produce of the trap and the chase,they were startled by the sudden appearance of a large band of mountedIndians, who galloped to the top of a neighbouring mound, and, crowdingtogether, stood still to gaze upon the invaders of their huntinggrounds, for such they deemed the trappers, no doubt.
To snatch up their arms and run to a place of safety was the work of amoment. It must not be supposed that such experienced men as Redhandand Bounce were altogether unprepared for a surprise of this sort. Onthe day of their arrival at the hunting ground, their first care hadbeen to select such a place for their camp as lay in close proximity tosome natural stronghold. Not ten paces from the camp fire there was asort of hollow in the ground, on the very summit of the mound on whichthey were encamped. Here all their valuables had been placed, and roundthe edge of the hollow a rude breastwork had been raised, so that theparty, when in it, could fire through little openings in the breastworkwithout exposing themselves to view.
To this fortress they retired the instant the Indians made theirappearance. Fortunately all the members of the little party had comein.
"They're holdin' a council o' war," said Bounce, carefully examining thepriming of his piece. "It's as like as not they'll attack us, butthey'll get a hearty and an oncommonly warm welcome."
"They'll not attack us," said Redhand. "They know that white men nevertravel without plenty of powder and ball, and they don't like taking aplace by storm."
"Ay," remarked Waller sarcastically, "'cause they knows that the firstman as comes on is sartin sure to fall, an' they knows that they can'tcome on without somebody comin' first."
"But there's brave fellers among the redskins," rejoined Bounce. "Iknowed a set o' young fellers as banded theirselves together, and sworethey'd go through fire an' water, thick an' thin, but they'd niver turnback from the face o' danger wherever they met it. So, one day they woscrossin' a river on the ice, an' the first on 'em fell in, an' woscarried away by the current; an' what does the second do, but he walksstraight into the hole, an' wos drowned too; an' the nixt wos goin' tofoller, when the old warriors ran at him an' forced him back. If theyhadn't stopped him, I do b'lieve--"
"They're makin' up their minds to do somethin' or other," interruptedMarch.
"I sincerely hope they won't fight," murmured Bertram earnestly. "It isfearful to think of the blood that is shed by these men needlessly."
From the conduct of the Indians it became evident that on this occasionthey sympathised with the artist in his desire not to fight, for one oftheir number dismounted, and, advancing unarmed towards the trappers,made signs of friendship.
"It's as well to be bold an' appear to trust 'em," said Redhand, layingdown his rifle and leaping over the breastwork; "keep your guns ready,lads, an' if ye see treachery, let drive at once. Don't be afraid o'hittin' me. I'll take my chance."
After a few minutes' conversation with the Indian, Redhand returned tohis party.
"That redskin," said he, "tells me they're on an expedition to hunt thebuffalo on the prairie, and that they're good friends of the white men,and would like to have a talk with us before they go on; but I don'tbelieve 'em. From what I heard Mr McLeod say at the Mountain Fort, Ithink it not unlikely they are bound on an expedition against thewhites. The very fact of their wishin' to keep friends with us insteadof tryin' to lift our scalps and carry off our furs and horses, shows methey've some more pressin' business on hand. Mr McLeod described to methe appearance of one or two o' the Injuns that hates the fur-tradersmost, so that I might be on my guard, an' I'm quite sure that some ofthem are with that band. Now, what say ye? Shall I tell 'em we don'twant their acquaintance?"
"Tell 'em they're a set o' lyin' thieves," said Big Waller. "I guesswe'll have nothin' to say to 'em wotiver."
"Oui, et give to dem mine complements," added Gibault, "an' say we ver'moch 'blige by dere goodness, mais dey vill all be shooted if dey not goaway queek."
Redhand did not give these polite messages to the Indian, but onreturning to him he presented him with a piece of tobacco, and advisedhim to continue his journey without loss of time, as the buffaloes weretravelling south and might be out of the way when they reached theprairie.
Whether the Indians felt angry or not it is impossible to say. Theyseemed indifferent to their cool reception by the trappers, and soonafter rode off at full speed, in a direction that led _away_ from theMountain Fort, a circumstance which still further confirmed Redhand inhis suspicions.
After an eager, hasty consultation, it was resolved that they shouldfollow the savages, and if their trail was found to diverge, as wasfully expected, towards the fort, that they should endeavour to passthem in the night, and proceed by forced marches, in order to get therein time to warn the fur-traders of their impending danger.
In less than an hour after the Indians left them, the trappers weregalloping after them in hot haste. During the course of the day theyfound that the trail doubled back, as they had anticipated, so, making awide detour, they headed the Indians, and during the afternoon got alittle in advance of them on their way to the Mountain Fort.
But the trappers had a subtle enemy to deal with. Just as the Indianswere about to encamp that night for a few hours' rest, they chanced todiverge a short way from the direct line of march, and, in doing so,crossed the tracks of the trappers. A halt was called, and a minuteinspection of the tracks made. One of the savages galloped back on thema considerable distance, and soon returned with the information thatthey led towards the camp of the pale-faces. From the appearance of thehoof-prints they knew that they were fresh, and thus at once guessedthat their true intentions had been suspected, and might yet befrustrated by the trappers. Instead of encamping, therefore, theypushed on at full speed and very soon came up with the white men. Itwas a dark night, so that they could not see far in advance of them, andthus it happened that the two parties, on entering a narrow defile,almost rode into each other, with a yell of fierce surprise on bothsides.
As there were at least fifty Indians, Redhand thought it better to avoida doubtful combat by scattering his men through the woods, and lettingeach make the best of his way to the fort singly.
"Run, boys! scatter! to the fort!"
This was all that he deemed needful in the way of command orexplanation. Firing a single volley at the enemy, they turned and fled.
"Foller me," shouted Waller to the bewildered Bertram, as a shower ofarrows whistled past their ears. The artist obeyed mechanically, and inanother moment they were flying through the wood at a pace that seemed,and actually was, reckless under the circumstances. But the Indians didnot attempt to pursue. They knew that their intention had beendiscovered, and that their only chance of success now lay in outridingthe pale-faces. The ride, in fact, became a long race, neither partymaking the slightest attempt to hunt up the other, but each strainingevery nerve and muscle to get first to the doomed fort.
The scattered trappers rode for a long time singly, but as they nearedthe fort, one or two of them met, and when they came first in sight ofthe tall flagstaff, Bounce, Redhand, and Gibault rode abreast.
McLeod was standing in front of the fort, when the three horsemen camedashing over the plain. He hastily summoned his men and closed thegate, but as the foremost rider came near, he was recognised; the gatewas thrown open, and they galloped into the square. In a few hastywords their errand was explained. Arms and ammunition were served out,and six men were stationed at the gate, to be in readiness to open it toapproaching friends, or to shut it in the face of foes.
But the others of the party were not so fortunate as these three. TheIndians reached the fort before they did, and one of their number wasleft, unknown to them, in a
state of insensibility near the spot wherethe first rencontre had taken place.
When the Indians and trappers met in the narrow defile, as beforerelated, one of the arrows, which had been discharged very much atrandom, entered the shoulder of March Marston's horse and wounded itmortally. At first March thought the wound was slight, and, hearing theshouts of some of the savages not far behind him, he urged his horseforward as rapidly as the nature of the ground would admit of. Beforehe had gone a quarter of a mile, however, the poor steed fell, throwingMarch over its head. In his flight the youth's forehead came intoviolent contact with a branch, and he fell to the ground insensible.
His comrades, ignorant of his fate, continued their wild flight. Thus,our hero was forsaken, and left bruised and bleeding in the dark forest.
The Wild Man of the West: A Tale of the Rocky Mountains Page 15
