CHAPTER XIX.
IN WHICH TOM MITCHELL DISCOVERS THAT HONESTY IS A GOOD SPECULATION.
We now direct our steps to one of the most savage and abrupt sites inall the desert, before the rising of the sun.
Five men are crossing a narrow gorge in the mountains, the tops ofwhich are rocky and bare or covered with snow. Just now they arerendered almost invisible by the dense fog which the sun's rays cannotdissipate.
These five travellers came from the interior of the mornes, as thehilly plains are called, and were bound for the plains, which theybegan to make out a short distance before them, traversed, or rathercut in two, by the extensive stream of the Missouri, the sandy watersof which were half concealed by high grass, willow, and the cottonwoodtrees that lined its shores.
The five wayfarers of whom we have spoken walked painfully over theflints that paved the gorge, the dried-up bed of a torrent, whichitself had suddenly disappeared during one of the cataclysms so commonin that region.
Having reached the extremity of the gorge, they stopped, looked around,and gave a sigh of satisfaction.
Their task had been a rude one. For far more than three hours they hadbeen stumbling in the midst of a whirlpool, nothing else, of flintstones, which, at every step they took, slid under their feet likemountain shingle.
Four of these men were whites, wearing the costume of hunters of theprairies; the fifth was an Indian.
They were George Clinton, Oliver, Bright-eye, Keen-hand, andNumank-Charake, the chief.
Now, then, let us ask how it came about that these five men should bethere at that early hour in a place so far from their home--a hundredmiles, in fact, from the regions they were in the habit of frequenting,and why were George Clinton and Keen-hand members of this singular andperhaps fortuitous group.
Of course we shall as soon as possible satisfy the legitimate curiosityof our friend the reader.
"Oh!" said Keen-hand, "It is my opinion, friends and companions, thatthe wisest thing to be done is to stop here."
"Why stop here?" cried Bright-eye, in far from a pleasant tone ofvoice; "Explain yourself."
"For a hundred reasons, every one of which is better than the other,"resumed Keen-hand.
"I should like to know the first," said the Canadian.
"Well, it is a very excellent one, I think. You and I and the chief areused to these diabolical roads, which is far from being the case withour companions, which you ought to have observed without telling a verylong time ago."
Both Oliver and Clinton tried to protest.
"No! No!" cried Bright-eye, in his frankest manner. "I am a brute. Sosay no more about it, as I proclaim it myself. Let us camp at once."
"Here is an excellent place," cried Keen-hand.
The hunters had halted under a grove of gigantic gumtrees. A fire waslighted, and each one, resting himself, prepared for the morning meal.
"Well, to tell the truth," said Oliver, gaily, "I will now confess thatI needed repose; I was simply done up."
"I could scarcely put one foot before the other," observed GeorgeClinton, who was stretched out on the grass.
"There!" cried Keen-hand; "Was I not right?"
"Well, considering that I have owned I was a brute," growledBright-eye, "are you not satisfied?"
"Perfectly!" said the guide.
Numank-Charake had in the meantime undertaken the office of cook, anoffice he filled effectively.
A few minutes later all were eagerly devouring slices cut from aquarter of venison which had been broiled upon the hot embers.
Then the gourds were opened and passed joyously from hand to hand.
These brave young men had walked all night through impracticable pathswhich only hunters could overcome. They were literally famished.
But now they entered into the spirit of the thing rarely. Sooneverything had disappeared. All was eaten.
When the last mouthful had been washed down, and the very last drop ofbrandy absorbed, each man in his turn gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.
"Now, then," remarked Bright-eye, looking obliquely at his companions,"I think we may talk."
"Well, I am of opinion," said Keen-hand, gaily, "that after a heartymeal, two things are agreeable--a pipe and talk."
This declaration, the justice and opportuneness of which everybody atonce recognised, was like a signal; instantly, pipes in red clay, withcherry tree tubes, were drawn from their belts, stuffed, lighted, andsoon a cloud of blue smoke surrounded the head of every guest like aglory.
"Now, then, Bright-eye," said Oliver, gaily, between two puffs, "fireaway as soon as you like."
"Messieurs, my friends," replied Bright-eye, "my heart is very sad.Despite all I can do, I feel a kind of presentiment that this man, inwhom we have so trusted, is deceiving us."
Numank-Charake lifted up his head.
"I know the paleface chief," he said, in his guttural tones, shakinghis head in a way to give more emphasis to his words; "he is a manwhose tongue is not forked. His word is as gold--and my brother,Bright-eye, is wrong."
"In the name of heaven, is it you who speak in that way, chief?"asked the astonished hunter; "You, of all men in the world, so deeplyinterested."
"Numank-Charake is a chief in his nation," quickly interrupted theredskin, his words, which swelled his bosom, coming directly from hisheart; "the man who despises his enemies is not a brave warrior, butexposes himself to the reproach of only vanquishing cowards."
"Well spoken, chief," said Keen-hand.
"The Grey Bear, the paleface chief, is ferocious, cruel, and a thief,but he is brave and truthful."
Oliver and Clinton stared.
"What he has said he will do, he will do. What he has offered he willgive. Did we go openly to him? No! We hunted him like a wild beastWounded, dying, we wished to kill him. He escaped; thanks not tocunning, but to audacity. He is a great chief."
The whites exchanged glances.
"Nothing would have been more easy for him than to laugh at our menacesand to conceal himself from us. Instead of that, he has sent us acollar--letter--in which he invites us to an interview, for the purposeof ending the troubles which divide us."
"This may be a trick," said Oliver.
"No! It is neither the act of a false nor of a double-faced man. No! Itis the act of a brave and loyal warrior. That is my opinion. Whatevermay happen during the next few hours, I am convinced that if we haveconfidence in him I shall be found right. I have said."
The chief relighted his pipe, which had gone out during his speech,and from that moment he appeared to take no further part in theconversation. Still he listened to what the others said.
"As far as I am concerned," observed Oliver, "I think the chief hasspoken well. I agree with him on every point. As far as I can judge,this pirate or this outlaw, whichever you choose to call him, isnot a man like other men. There is something in him which is not atall ordinary. In one word, he may, it is true, be a brigand, but,certainly, his is a very lofty nature. Until further events, I, forone, shall believe in his word."
"All this is very possible," observed Bright-eye, shaking his headdoubtingly, "but no one can deny that he is the captain of a monstrousset of brigands."
"What does that prove?" said Oliver.
"Nothing that I know of. Still I am decidedly of opinion that his wordis not to be trusted."
"Then allow me to observe," said George Clinton, drily, "why are wehere?"
"Why, because one always lives in hope, despite our better reason.Still we ought to be prudent."
"Though I am not quite of the opinion of Bright-eye," said Charbonneau,"I think we should be wise not to rush headlong into a possible trapwhich the bandits may be preparing for us. He is right as to the wisdomof prudence."
"I, too, am an advocate for prudence," said George Clinton; "nothingcan be more wise than to take all proper precautions. That I fullyagree with. But do not act in such a way as to cause our loyalty to besuspected, or our confidence in the man's word."
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"That can be easily arranged, my friends," said Charbonneau, with acunning smile "let me alone, and, believe me, all will go well."
"My worthy friend, act just as you think proper. You, perhaps, morethan anyone, have experience of the desert, and nobody objects to yourtaking every precaution."
"The best precaution," said the Indian chief, again speaking, "when youdeal with a loyal enemy is to have every faith in his word; to have nosuspicion of any kind in your mind."
"Very good, chief. It is very likely after all that you are right. Iwill not discuss the matter with you, though I repeat I am very muchsurprised to hear you speak thus. I only ask of you one thing--that is,to remain neutral in this affair until the actual moment of action hascome."
"Numank-Charake loves Bright-eye; he is his brother. He will dowhatever the hunter wishes; still regretting that he is constrained toact against his wishes," he answered.
"I take all the blame on myself," said Bright-eye; "and shall be thefirst to own my error, if indeed I am found to be in error. A man cansay no more, even if he were speaking to his father."
The Indian said no more, but bowed his head in token of acquiescence.But he smiled with such a keen and subtle irony that the hunter was sodeeply moved as to blush.
"I fear nothing for myself," he cried.
"Eh, what!" exclaimed Charbonneau, stretching out his arm towards theriver, "What is going on?"
Every eye was fixed upon the spot indicated by the hunter's suddenexclamation.
"It is a canoe," said George Clinton.
"Manned by two men," observed Charbonneau.
"And those two men," said the chief, after one glance from his eagleeye, "are two palefaces. He knows them well. One is the old huntercalled Sharpear, the other the son of my nation--Leave-no-trail."
"My father and my grandfather!" cried Bright-eye, in utter surprise."Surely, chief, you must be mistaken. Why should they come here?"
"Very likely," observed Oliver, gently, "the same motive leads themhere that has led us."
Meanwhile the canoe, impelled by vigorous arms, approached with extremerapidity, and soon was at no very great distance from the camp of thehunters. Then it turned rapidly towards the shore, and its bow was soonstuck in the sand.
Two men landed.
Numank-Charake had been right. These two men were indeed the father andgrandfather of the young hunter. They were coming to the encampment.
The five adventurers all leaped up, and eagerly rushed to meet the twoold men.
After the first compliments had passed and welcomes had been exchangedwith effusion between the newcomers and their friends, the Canadiansseated themselves by the fire, and, upon the invitation given, ate somemouthfuls of fresh-cooked venison and drank some brandy.
"We have been to see our relative, Lagrenay, the squatter of the WindRiver," said the old man. "It appears he had received a very pressingmessage from Tom Mitchell, the outlaw."
"Yes," said Bright-eye, "we were there when it was delivered. We knowall about it. But, as far as I am concerned, I am afraid--"
"Of what are you afraid, my son?" asked Francois Berger, in a ratherimperious tone of voice.
"That all this pretended facility and frankness on the part of thepirate chief hides a snare."
The two old hunters exchanged a smile.
"Child, you are very much mistaken," said the grandfather. "TomMitchell means exactly what he says. He has no intention, no motive forlaying any unworthy trap."
"I am certain of it," added the son.
Bright-eye had nothing to say to so positive an assertion. He silentlybowed his head.
"We have done all in our power to come here quickly, knowing we shouldmeet you," went on Francois Berger; "we are only too happy to be intime."
"In time to do what?" asked Oliver.
"We will explain," said the elder of the two men; "when Tom Mitchellcomes we shall receive him."
"But that is our business?" cried Bright-eye.
"I know the message was addressed to you," said his father; "I am wellaware of it that it is our business, and, in fact, it is more properit should be so. At all events we have decided that it is to be so, sothat you will keep out of sight until the affair is finished."
"But," said Bright-eye, with considerable hesitation, "supposing therewas treachery?"
"My son," sententiously observed the old man, "prudence is wise, butsuspicion in certain cases is an insult. Think of that. Believe me whenI say that your father and I know better what we are about than you do."
"We shall certainly obey you," said Oliver, in the name of all. "Weshall remain at a distance during the interview, and only interferewhen called upon."
"I thank you cordially," said the old man; "everything will go rightly,I promise you."
And he waved his hand as if to dismiss them.
The five young men rose, bowed respectfully to the two old men, andwatched them as they walked slowly down to the banks of the river.
About two gunshots distance from the camp, or thereabouts, was a ratherthick wood, composed of oaks and gumtrees. The hunters entered thewood, and soon afterwards disappeared under the forest.
Remaining alone, the old hunters lifted their Indian calumets and beganto smoke, without exchanging one single word.
This went on for about three-quarters of an hour--incessant smoking.Suddenly, Francois Berger let fall his pipe, fell flat on his face, puthis ear to the ground, and listened.
"They come," he said, rising.
"I have heard them coming for some time," quietly replied the oldgrandfather. "How many?"
"Not more than four."
"Just as I expected. He has acted in perfect good faith," said the oldman.
"Then you are quite determined?"
"Yes. The Indians are not in want of it, and I should not like to seethe Yankees or English profit by it."
"You are the master. You are the one to whom it belongs to a certainextent," said the son.
"Yes; it is today my property. Besides, it should be kept up for thesupport of a great cause. Tom Mitchell is a very different man fromwhat he appears," added the old man, gravely.
"That, of course, I know."
"Besides, I have another very strong motive for acting as I do, andthat is the establishment, on the very spot I allude to, of the Yankeesquatter."
"Yes. And, between you and me, father, these Yankees have very sharpnoses. They will find it out before long."
"Exactly so, my son. For my part, I prefer that Frenchmen should derivethe advantage."
At this moment a distant gunshot was heard.
"Here they come," said Francois Berger.
He then rose, placed his hand over his mouth like a funnel, and twiceimitated, with marvellous dexterity and perfection, the cry of thewater hawk.
A similar cry came in response, and almost immediately afterwards fourcavaliers, well mounted, appeared galloping through the high grass andtrees, and coming directly towards them.
The Canadians held their rifles in their hands, while the newcomersshowed no apparent arms. They had left their pistols in the holsters,their sabres were in their scabbards, their rifles by their sides.
On coming within a short distance of the two old men the strangersexchanged a few words in a low tone of voice, two of them slackenedtheir pace, while the others rushed forward with the rapidity of thegazelle.
In another instant Angela, for it was herself, was in the arms of thefriends, answering by cries of joy and tears of happiness the sweetcaresses of her relatives and friends.
Tom Mitchell and his companions stood apart discreetly, and then,when they saw that the first transports were over or becoming calmer,approached.
"Welcome," said the old man, "welcome, gentlemen," holding out his twohands.
"Have I kept my promise?" asked Tom Mitchell.
"Nobly; I solemnly declare it, and I thank you," cried Berger, withdeep emotion.
"You have worthily made up for the act you had d
one. Let us forget thepast," said the old man; "what can we do for you?"
"Nothing," he said, quietly.
"You exact no ransom whatever?"
"Why should I exaggerate, old hunter? I was drawn into committing abad action by a man whose name I will not mention. Though a pirate, Iam not so bad as I am painted. I have therefore sought to condone theevil."
"Admirably spoken," said Francois Berger, again embracing his daughter."Go, darling, to your brother yonder."
"Allow me first to thank Captain Mitchell," she said, "for his extremekindness during my captivity."
"You bear me no malice?"
"None whatever," she said, "but eternal gratitude. You deserve it andyou have it."
Then with a gesture of adieu and a sweet smile on her adorable lips sheran off in the direction of the forest.
The men waited until she was out of sight.
"I will now take my leave," said the outlaw.
"One moment," replied the old man; "the recompense which you refuse Imust force upon you."
He pulled forth a large folded parchment.
"This is the ransom of my daughter," he said: "it is a regular deed ofgift of the Valley of the Deer."
"What!" cried the outlaw, with singular emotion.
"Yes, and here on the map is a red mark, indicating the spot where whatyou know of is concealed."
"Accept without scruple, captain," said Francois Berger; "it is oursand ours alone to give."
"Since you wish it, gentlemen. I should show but ill grace to refuse,the more that I value your gift highly."
"I only ask one thing in return," said the old man.
"I shall be ready to promise anything."
"You will use what I have given you only with an honourable--" he said,with some hesitation.
"It shall be so, I promise you."
"And so we part friends; captain, your hand."
"Friends, yes," said the pirate; "and I hope the day may come when youmay try my friendship."
"Who knows? The day may come sooner than we expect."
"I shall be ready to shed the very last drop of my blood to defend oravenge you or yours."
Les outlaws du Missouri. English Page 19
