CHAPTER XIX
ON GUARD
Ned Slade, who had started to run toward his quarry, all excited overkilling the bear, stopped short at the sight of the party of redmen.Harvey Brill, too, was plainly at a loss over what to do.
“Indian bear!” repeated the leader of the Blackfeet. It seemed thathe could speak some English, though previously he had talked only inhis own guttural tongue. “Indian shoot--Indian bear,” he said, againscowling at our friends. The other redmen gathered in a circle backof their chief, and now it was noticed that they made no pretense ofhaving no arms--their rifles were plainly in evidence.
“Guess we’re up against it, Mr. Brill,” murmured Ned, as he raised hisrifle, intending to pump another cartridge into the firing chamber, andeject the discharged shell.
“Don’t!” suddenly exclaimed the Westerner, in a low but tense voice.
“Don’t what?” asked Ned.
“Don’t pump in another charge. This is a ticklish bit of work, Ned, andthe least hostile act may make trouble. Don’t load your gun, or some oftheirs may happen to go off--accidental-like. Keep cool, and I’ll seewhat can be done.”
“But can he claim our bear--the bear I shot before he did? There’s nodoubt but that my bullet struck first, and the bear was almost downwhen he fired.”
“That’s right, my lad, but right doesn’t always go in this country.They’ve got the numbers. Still, I’m not going to give in without akick. Of course it’s your bear, and a fine shot it was, too.”
Mr. Brill looked narrowly at the Indian chief and his followers. Theredmen maintained a dignified silence, seeming to prefer to leave it totheir leader to settle the dispute.
“Indian bear!” exclaimed the chief again, and he took a step towardthe carcass of bruin, as if to see what the two whites would do towarddisputing his claim. “Indian bear!”
“So you said before, Standing Horse,” remarked Harvey Brill, calmly. “Iought to know it by this time. I’m not deaf. Only I don’t quite agreewith you.”
The miner, too, had dropped his jargon of Indian talk, and was speakingin English, since he saw that the redman used that tongue, though howperfectly was yet to be learned.
“Bah! White man heap smart--boys smart too. Come by eagle wings to getbear. Indian shoot first.”
“That’s not so, and you know it, Standing Horse!” exclaimed the miner,sharply. “We did come by eagle wings out to this country, and by thatI suppose you mean our airship. But if you think we came here to becheated out of our rights by you fellows, you’ve got another thinkcoming!”
“Bah! White man think much--talk much,” half sneered the redman.
“Well, I always say what I think, which is more than I can say aboutyou, Standing Horse, and them that’s with you,” retorted Harvey Brill.“What makes you claim that bear as yours? This young man here--and heowns part of the eagle machine--he shot that bear as cleanly as I everwant to see one toppled over. He fired first, and it wasn’t until afterthe brute was falling that you fired. Any of your men will say the samething, too, if they want to tell the truth.”
“Indian always have straight tongue!” murmured the chief, and some ofhis followers could be heard to mutter as they gathered closer abouthim.
“I wish they did!” snapped Mr. Brill. “But it’s all nonsense for youto say that you killed the bear. It’s ours and we mean to have it--notthat we actually need it, for I guess Bob has enough grub in hiskitchen to last a month. But we want our rights, and we’re going tohave ’em!”
Mr. Brill spoke sharply, and it was evident that his words producedan effect on the Indians, for they murmured angrily, and seemed to beurging their chief to take some action.
“That Indian bear!” sullenly repeated Standing Horse.
“Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, there’s only one way tosettle this dispute!” declared the miner. “Here, Ned, hold my gun!”
“What are you going to do?” asked the lad.
“I’m going to prove to this cheating Indian whose bullet it was thatfinished the bear. That’s the only way. He’s got an old-fashionedrifle, and it doesn’t make half the size wound your soft-nosed mushroombullet does. I’ll show him!”
Passing his rifle to Ned, Mr. Brill stalked forward toward the body ofthe bear. At the first sign of his advance the angry murmur among theIndians increased, and the chief quickly shoved another cartridge intothe chamber of his weapon.
“Look out!” cried Ned, in apprehension.
“It’s all right,” answered the miner, reassuringly. “I know thesefellows. They won’t fire until they’re more angry than they are now,and especially when they see I haven’t got a gun. Don’t worry. I’llsettle this thing!”
It seemed that he was right, for when the redmen saw that Harvey Brillhad left his rifle with Ned, their murmurs subsided, and the chieflowered his gun.
“We’ll decide this right now, Standing Horse,” went on the Westerner.“I’ll cut out the bullets and prove to you that I’m right, and thatthis young man killed the bear. Come on, now, be a sport and take partin this post mortem examination.”
“White man sport--Indian sport!” said the chief, and, not to be outdonein “bluff,” Standing Horse passed his rifle to one of his followers andjoined Harvey at the dead bear.
The two stood for a moment over the carcass of bruin, as thougheach was waiting for the action of the other. Then Harvey motionedcourteously for the Indian to proceed to cut out the bullets to satisfyhimself.
“White man cut,” spoke Standing Horse, briefly. It was a partialacknowledgment that he would play fair.
“All right, Indian,” replied Harvey, drawing a hunting knife, withwhich he had armed himself on leaving the airship camp. “I’ll do thecutting and I’ll prove to you that you’re in the wrong. There’s nothinglike being fair and right, you know. Here goes!”
It did not take long to extract the bullet fired from the rifle ofStanding Horse. It had not penetrated deeply, and, while in a spot thatmight have caused death from bleeding in time, it was not necessarilyvital.
To get Ned’s missile, however, was a harder task, and Harvey had to cutdeeply before he found it. Then he located it so near the heart thatthe organ itself was injured. Ned had aimed high, but his gun must havedropped as he pulled the trigger, for the bullet went in back of theright shoulder, taking a diagonal course and almost passing through thebody of the beast. The motor boy’s gun was a high-powered one, and thebullet, mushrooming, or spreading out, had inflicted a deadly wound.
“There, you see!” exclaimed Harvey, triumphantly as he laid the twomissiles side by side on the ground. “White boy’s bear!”
For a moment Standing Horse did not reply. Then he grunted out:
“White man speak with straight tongue. Indian no say what not so.Indian----”
“I know,” interrupted Harvey, with a laugh. “You want to say you weremistaken, that’s all. Go ahead, no hard feelings, only I knew I couldprove it was our bear, and I want my rights, even if you are on thewarpath.”
“Bah!” grunted the redman again, as he turned to go back to hisfollowers. Evidently they had seen how the dispute had ended. Theywere not to get the bear, and they were disappointed for doubtless,since leaving, they missed the rations given out at their reservationwhich they had deserted. In all probability they were hungry, and thebear meant a feast to them, even though the meat was not at its best.Harvey Brill must have known this, for ere Standing Horse could jointhe group of redmen, and secure his rifle from the Indian who held it,the Westerner called out:
“Hold on, Standing Horse. Just because I proved that this was our bearmeat doesn’t say we want it all. There’s more here than we can use,and, after we take off a few steaks you’re welcome to the rest. Indianscan have most of the bear.”
“Ya! Ya!” grunted the chief, evidently in surprised delight. And then,with his customary disinclination to showing any emotion, the chiefmotioned to his followers the further result of the dispute. The r
edmencould not restrain a murmur of delight, which showed their hunger.Pleased smiles took the place of scowls, and Ned breathed in relief,for he feared there might be hostilities.
“I guess this will do us,” remarked Harvey, as he cut off some of thebest portions. “Take the rest, Standing Horse.”
The Indians needed no second invitation, and soon were at work cuttingup the bear. Others began making a fire, while Standing Horse, takinghis rifle from the warrior who had held it, stalked off by himself ingloomy silence.
“Come on, Ned,” suggested the miner, as he reached our hero, carryingthe steaks. “I guess we’ve done enough hunting for one day. Besides, Iwant to get back to the others.”
“Why?” asked the lad, struck by something unusual in the tone of theminer.
“Oh--I--er--well, I just want to tell ’em what happened. They may beanxious about us.” But Ned knew Harvey Brill had some other reason.
Jerry, Bob and Jim Nestor were greatly surprised on the return ofthe hunters, and more so when they heard the story. As for ProfessorSnodgrass, nothing seemed to worry him. He went on collecting hisbugs, classifying them and making notes about them, as if nothing hadhappened.
“Don’t go too far away,” advised Mr. Brill to the little scientist,when the latter was about to start out again after hearing the story ofthe bear.
“Why not?” mildly inquired Mr. Snodgrass.
“Because I don’t altogether like the way those Indians acted,” was thereply.
“But don’t you think they were satisfied with the way you settled thedispute about the bear?” asked Jerry.
“Oh, yes, fairly so--as much as any hungry Indians could be satisfied.But those fellows are looking for trouble. They didn’t leave thereservation for fun, and they will be up to mischief sooner or later.”
“That’s right,” agreed Jim Nestor.
“Then what had we better do?” asked Jerry. “I can’t get the rudder inshape for another day or two. I’ve got to make a whole new part. We’llhave to stay here, for if we went up we’d just drift helplessly about.Is there any danger?”
“Well, I wouldn’t like to say there was,” answered Mr. Brill, slowly;“and yet I’m not so foolish as to say there isn’t. Those bucks arehungry, and a hungry Indian will do more than one that has had a goodmeal. Then, too, they know we’ve got lots of things aboard here thatthey’d like. Of course they may not get up spunk enough to attack us,and then, again, they may.”
“Then you think we’d better keep close around here?” asked Bob, pausingwith a pan in his hand. He had been in the act of getting a meal whenNed and Harvey Brill returned.
“I think so--yes,” replied the miner. “And, I think we had betterstand on guard, too--night and day. It won’t do to take chances. Jim,you and I’ll take turns watching for these beggars while the boys getthe airship in shape to run. The sooner we leave these diggings thebetter I’ll like it. I’ll take first watch,” and, seeing that his riflewas fully loaded, the Westerner stalked off a little way in the woodsto take up his position on a slight eminence that gave him a good viewof the surrounding country.
The Motor Boys on the Border; Or, Sixty Nuggets of Gold Page 20