by Quincy Allen
CHAPTER XVII
AT THE CAMPFIRE OF THE CREES
Frank was not at all alarmed. In the first place, he had been assured byMr. Mabie that these Crees were not inclined to be hostile. Then, again,he saw that it was no fierce face of a warrior that bent over him, butthe pitying one of a child.
"Hello! Who are you?" he asked, a little weakly, for his head was stillswimming more or less from his shock.
"Little Mink," came the reply, though the boy apparently had to nervehimself to keep from running away.
"And you found me knocked out, did you? What are you doing here, LittleMink?" Frank sat up as he spoke, though he realized that he would beunsteady on his feet when he tried to stand.
"Teepee down by river, not far off. Little Mink have snare for rabbit.Him go see if ketch one, find paleface here. Think dead, then him openeyes. Good!"
Frank was amused at the air of the little fellow. He knew somethingabout the ways of civilized Indians, having been among them in Maine,hence he could see that this boy was endeavoring to ape the manners ofhis elders.
"Would you help me get down to your camp, Little Mink? I feel weak aftermy tumble, and my own camp is far away," he said.
Now, Frank knew very well that a loud shout would, in all probability,have fetched Jerry to the spot. He had an object in making this appealto the Indian lad, and watched his dusky face closely as the otherconsidered the proposal.
Perhaps Frank, fearing a refusal, may have put on more agony than thestate of his feelings really warranted. At any rate, he succeeded inswerving the boy from a condition of caution to that of sympathy.
"Little Mink help. Him lead paleface to teepee," he said, and the lookthat accompanied the words told Frank as plainly as words could havedone that the boy was trusting in his honor not to betray them.
Accordingly, he hung on to the lad, and in this fashion they went forhalf a mile or so, when the river was reached. Presently Frankdiscovered signs of a camp not far in the distance. A little pale smokewas rising over the thicket, and he also saw a conical skin teepee,while on the shore were three bullboats.
As Little Mink came into camp, assisting the white hunter, severalsquaws began an excited jabber that brought out a couple of bucks.
"A hungry-looking lot all around," was the mental comment of the younghunter.
He had seen that Little Mink did not look as though he had enjoyed abountiful share of food lately, and the rest of the party were certainlyno better off.
One of the bucks was an old man, yet he seemed to have a certain dignityabout him. Frank's curiosity was now greater than ever. He made up hismind that there was something singular about this party of Crees whoseemed to be wandering in the wilderness without guns, or any means forobtaining food, and, if possible, he meant to discover what the secretcould be.
The old Indian approached, looking suspiciously at him. Frank put outhis hand at once in a cordial manner.
"How!" he said, smiling in his engaging manner.
The other at once fell under the charm of Frank's smile.
"White boy much hurt?" he asked, looking at the dirt and blood onFrank's left hand, where he had cut himself slightly.
"No. I had a bad fall, and feel weak. Little Mink found me lying there,and let me come with him to your camp. I have friends above, a huntingparty under the charge of Mr. Mabie, the stockman."
He saw the old fellow move uneasily at mention of the name.
"Shoot elk?" asked the other, nodding.
"Yes, sometimes, with gun," and Frank purposely held up his repeatingrifle.
He saw the black eyes glitter enviously at sight of it, which made hiscuriosity only the stronger.
"Bad! bad!" muttered the Indian, though he did not explain what hemeant; but Frank believed he must be thinking of the theft of the elksome days previous.
"You no guns here?" he asked, and the old Indian shook his head sadly,though a look of sudden anger also flitted across his strong face.
"Nothing, only hatchet and one knife. Take all else away when send usout from village. No care if squaw and pappoose die from hunger. Bad!bad! But some day p'raps Running Elk go back and make change. Wait!wait! No sleep on trail!"
Already was Frank beginning to see behind the mystery. For some causethis old brave and his immediate family had been chased out of the Creevillage, many miles to the northwest. Deprived of weapons, they had beenstarted on the river in the bullboats, to meet what fate had in storefor them.
No wonder, then, that coming unexpectedly on the dead elk Bluff hadshot, they had stolen it, for hunger stalked in their miserable camp,and the pappooses cried for the food the braves could not supply.
The only thing that still puzzled Frank was why they had not appealed tosome of the whites. But there must be some good reason, he argued, forthis. Perhaps it was only the natural pride an Indian feels, and whichprevents him from admitting to the palefaces that he is helpless tosupply the wants of his people.
"Name Frank," he said, touching his breast "What call you?"
"Running Elk, chief among Crees. Long he lead them in the hunt and inbattle. But a serpent come among my people and poison all againstRunning Elk. Now they think the half-breed Pierre La Motte best man tofollow. Him talk, talk, all time, and warriors dream. Some day they wakeup and know him for bad man. Then p'raps they ask Running Elk come backagain. Wait, see!"
That was the Indian idea of patience. Frank could understand it all now.Plainly, a smart half-breed had managed to hypnotize the braves in theCree village, and influence them to turn against their own chief. Whenhe and his family resisted they were ignominiously exiled, and sentforth to face the world without means for providing food for the squawsand pappooses.
Somehow, Frank felt a strong sense of sympathy for the old exiled chief.
"You see the rancher, Mr. Mabie. I think he can do something for you,"he said.
"I know him. He no like Running Elk and the Crees. Once they take somecattle that stampede and wander far away. Never forget or forgive thatwrong. Better not see rancher. Go on down river soon, sell few pelts,and buy gun. Mebbe all right."
"No! no! Don't be in a hurry. I'm sure Mr. Mabie won't hold that oldgrudge against you now, and he's a good man. He will give you gun andpowder. Wait and see."
Half an hour later, as he was sitting there, with a rude bandage aroundhis throbbing head, and talking with Little Mink, who had taken a greatfancy for the paleface hunter who owned the beautiful gun, Frank hearda startled exclamation from the border of the thicket near by.
"Hello, there, Jerry! Come in and get acquainted!" he cried out, as hiseyes fell upon the astonished face of his chum thrust from the scrub.
"Talk to me about surprises! What could equal this? Here, after gettingthe scare of my life, thinking my chum had been carried off by theredskins, I find him hobnobbing with them in their camp. Sure they ain'tdangerous, Frank?" asked Jerry, advancing cautiously, with his gun heldready.
"As mild as an old lady's cup of tea. Wouldn't hurt a fly. Sit down, andI'll tell you all about them," said Frank.
"First, I want to know are you hurt much? I happened on where you fell,and just imagine my alarm when I saw the print of little moccasins. Why,I was sure some frisky red had knocked you over the head with a warclub,and then toted you off to be burned at the stake. I followed as well asI could, bent on rescuing you at the peril of my life, to meet up with areception like this."
Frank was compelled to laugh at the look of evident disgust that cameover the countenance of his comrade.
But when Jerry had heard all his chum knew concerning the little bandof wandering Crees, his generous heart was stirred at the thought oftheir wrongs.
"That greedy half-breed ought to be made to walk the plank, that's what!Just to think of the nerve of him chasing the genuine dyed-in-the-woolchief out into the cold and taking his place! Why, he's a usurper,that's the truth! And look here, Frank, didn't you hear what Mr. Mabiesaid about a fellow named Pierre La Motte?"
&n
bsp; "I must have been away at the time. What did he say?" asked Frankeagerly.
"Why, there was a detachment of the sheriff's posse at the ranch housejust before we came, looking for that same fellow. Seems that he'swanted badly for something or other."
"Hurrah! That's just what I was hoping would happen. We can put themwise about Pierre, and they'll go after him. Then, perhaps, as oldRunning Elk says, when the man with the smooth tongue has gone awayforever, the Crees will send and beg their chief to return, and forgivethe past. It's all right! I'll bring him here to see you."
But Running Elk had already learned that another stranger was in camp,and even then he was approaching, looking considerably embarrassed, forhe feared it might be Mr. Mabie himself.
However, he was soon set at his ease. What Frank had to say about thebad half-breed also gave him new pleasure.
"Not wait long now," he said, nodding his head sagely, while his beadyeyes fairly glittered with satisfaction, as in imagination he saw hishated foe being taken away from the Cree village by the much-fearedsheriff's posse.
