CHAPTER X.
_Perplexities_--_Our hunters plan their escape_--_Unexpectedinterruption_--_The tables turned_--_Crusoe mounts guard_--_Theescape_.
Dick Varley sat before the fire ruminating. We do not mean to assertthat Dick had been previously eating grass. By no means. For severaldays past he had been mentally subsisting on the remarkable thingsthat he heard and saw in the Pawnee village, and wondering how he wasto get away without being scalped. He was now chewing the cud of thisintellectual fare. We therefore repeat emphatically--in case anyreader should have presumed to contradict us--that Dick Varley satbefore the fire _ruminating_!
Joe Blunt likewise sat by the fire along with him, ruminating too, andsmoking besides. Henri also sat there smoking, and looking a littlethe worse of his late supper.
"I don't like the look o' things," said Joe, blowing a whiff of smokeslowly from his lips, and watching it as it ascended into the stillair. "That blackguard Mahtawa is determined not to let us off tillhe gits all our goods; an' if he gits them, he may as well take ourscalps too, for we would come poor speed in the prairies without guns,horses, or goods."
Dick looked at his friend with an expression of concern. "What's to bedone?" said he.
"Ve must escape," answered Henri; but his tone was not a hopeful one,for he knew the danger of their position better than Dick.
"Ay, we must escape--at least we must try," said Joe. "But I'll makeone more effort to smooth over San-it-sa-rish, an' git him to snubthat villain Mahtawa."
Just as he spoke the villain in question entered the tent with a bold,haughty air, and sat down before the fire in sullen silence. Forsome minutes no one spoke, and Henri, who happened at the time to beexamining the locks of Dick's rifle, continued to inspect them with anappearance of careless indifference that he was far from feeling.
Now, this rifle of Dick's had become a source of unceasing wonder tothe Indians--wonder which was greatly increased by the fact that noone could discharge it but himself. Dick had, during his short stay atthe Pawnee village, amused himself and the savages by exhibiting hismarvellous powers with the "silver rifle." Since it had been won byhim at the memorable match in the Mustang Valley, it had scarce everbeen out of his hand, so that he had become decidedly the best shot inthe settlement, could "bark" squirrels (that is, hit the bark of thebranch on which a squirrel happened to be standing, and so kill itby the concussion alone), and could "drive the nail" every shot. Thesilver rifle, as we have said, became "great medicine" to the Red-menwhen they saw it kill at a distance which the few wretched guns theyhad obtained from the fur-traders could not even send a spent ball to.The double shot, too, filled them with wonder and admiration; but thatwhich they regarded with an almost supernatural feeling of curiositywas the percussion cap, which, in Dick's hands, always exploded, butin theirs was utterly useless!
This result was simply owing to the fact that Dick, after firing,handed the rifle to the Indians without renewing the cap; so that whenthey loaded and attempted to fire, of course it merely snapped. Whenhe wished again to fire, he adroitly exchanged the old cap for a newone. He was immensely tickled by the solemn looks of the Indians atthis most incomprehensible of all "medicines," and kept them for somedays in ignorance of the true cause, intending to reveal it before heleft. But circumstances now arose which banished all trifling thoughtsfrom his mind.
Mahtawa raised his head suddenly, and said, pointing to the silverrifle, "Mahtawa wishes to have the two-shotted medicine gun. He willgive his best horse in exchange."
"Mahtawa is liberal," answered Joe; "but the pale-faced youth cannotpart with it. He has far to travel, and must shoot buffaloes by theway."
"The pale-faced youth shall have a bow and arrows to shoot thebuffalo," rejoined the Indian.
"He cannot use the bow and arrow," answered Joe. "He has not beentrained like the Red-man."
Mahtawa was silent for a few seconds, and his dark brows frowned moreheavily than ever over his eyes.
"The Pale-faces are too bold," he exclaimed, working himself into apassion. "They are in the power of Mahtawa. If they will not give thegun he will take it."
He sprang suddenly to his feet as he spoke, and snatched the riflefrom Henri's hand.
Henri being ignorant of the language had not been able to understandthe foregoing conversation, although he saw well enough that it wasnot an agreeable one; but no sooner did he find himself thus rudelyand unexpectedly deprived of the rifle than he jumped up, wrenched itin a twinkling from the Indian's grasp, and hurled him violently outof the tent.
In a moment Mahtawa drew his knife, uttered a savage yell, and sprangon the reckless hunter, who, however, caught his wrist, and held it asif in a vice. The yell brought a dozen warriors instantly to the spot,and before Dick had time to recover from his astonishment, Henri wassurrounded and pinioned despite his herculean struggles.
Before Dick could move, Joe Blunt grasped his arm, and whisperedquickly, "Don't rise. You can't help him. They daren't kill him tillSan-it-sa-rish agrees."
Though much surprised, Dick obeyed, but it required all his efforts,both of voice and hand, to control Crusoe, whose mind was much toohonest and straightforward to understand such subtle pieces ofdiplomacy, and who strove to rush to the rescue of his ill-usedfriend.
When the tumult had partly subsided, Joe Blunt rose and said,--"Havethe Pawnee braves turned traitors that they draw the knife againstthose who have smoked with them the pipe of peace and eaten theirmaize? The Pale-faces are three; the Pawnees are thousands. If evilhas been done, let it be laid before the chief. Mahtawa wishes to havethe medicine gun. Although we said, No, we could not part with it, hetried to take it by force. Are we to go back to the great chief of thePale-faces and say that the Pawnees are thieves? Are the Pale-faceshenceforth to tell their children when they steal, 'That is bad;that is like the Pawnee?' No; this must not be. The rifle shall berestored, and we will forget this disagreement. Is it not so?"
There was an evident disposition on the part of many of the Indians,with whom Mahtawa was no favourite, to applaud this speech; but thewily chief sprang forward, and, with flashing eyes, sought to turn thetables.
"The Pale-face speaks with soft words, but his heart is false. Is henot going to make peace with the enemies of the Pawnee? Is he notgoing to take goods to them, and make them gifts and promises? ThePale-faces are spies. They come to see the weakness of the Pawneecamp; but they have found that it is strong. Shall we suffer the falsehearts to escape? Shall they live? No; we will hang their scalps inour wigwams, for they have _struck a chief_, and we will keep alltheir goods for our squaws--wah!"
This allusion to keeping all the goods had more effect on the minds ofthe vacillating savages than the chief's eloquence. But a new turnwas given to their thoughts by Joe Blunt remarking in a quiet, almostcontemptuous tone,--
"Mahtawa is not the _great_ chief."
"True, true," they cried, and immediately hurried to the tent ofSan-it-sa-rish.
Once again this chief stood between the hunters and the savages, whowanted but a signal to fall on them. There was a long palaver, whichended in Henri being set at liberty and the rifle being restored.
That evening, as the three friends sat beside their fire eating theirsupper of boiled maize and buffalo meat, they laughed and talked ascarelessly as ever; but the gaiety was assumed, for they were at thetime planning their escape from a tribe which, they foresaw, wouldnot long refrain from carrying out their wishes, and robbing, perhapsmurdering them.
"Ye see," said Joe with a perplexed air, while he drew a piece of livecharcoal from the fire with his fingers and lighted his pipe--"ye see,there's more difficulties in the way o' gettin' off than ye think--"
"Oh, nivare mind de difficulties," interrupted Henri, whose wrath atthe treatment he had received had not yet cooled down. "Ve must jumpon de best horses ve can git hold, shake our fists at de red reptiles,and go away fast as ve can. De best hoss _must_ vin de race."
Joe shook his head. "A hundred arrows
would be in our backs before wegot twenty yards from the camp. Besides, we can't tell which are thebest horses. Our own are the best in my 'pinion, but how are we togit' em?"
"I know who has charge o' them," said Dick. "I saw them grazing nearthe tent o' that poor squaw whose baby was saved by Crusoe. Either herhusband looks after them or some neighbours."
"That's well," said Joe. "That's one o' my difficulties gone."
"What are the others?"
"Well, d'ye see, they're troublesome. We can't git the horses out o'camp without bein' seen, for the red rascals would see what we were atin a jiffy. Then, if we do git 'em out, we can't go off without ourbales, an' we needn't think to take 'em from under the nose o' thechief and his squaws without bein' axed questions. To go off withoutthem would niver do at all."
"Joe," said Dick earnestly, "I've hit on a plan."
"Have ye, Dick--what is't?"
"Come and I'll let ye see," answered Dick, rising hastily and quittingthe tent, followed by his comrades and his faithful dog.
It may be as well to remark here, that no restraint whatever had yetbeen put on the movements of our hunters as long as they kept to theirlegs, for it was well known that any attempt by men on foot to escapefrom mounted Indians on the plains would be hopeless. Moreover, thesavages thought that as long as there was a prospect of their beingallowed to depart peaceably with their goods, they would not be somad as to fly from the camp, and, by so doing, risk their lives anddeclare war with their entertainers. They had therefore been permittedto wander unchecked, as yet, far beyond the outskirts of the camp, andamuse themselves in paddling about the lake in the small Indian canoesand shooting wild-fowl.
Dick now led the way through the labyrinths of tents in the directionof the lake, and they talked and laughed loudly, and whistledto Crusoe as they went, in order to prevent their purpose beingsuspected. For the purpose of further disarming suspicion, they wentwithout their rifles. Dick explained his plan by the way, and it wasat once warmly approved of by his comrades.
On reaching the lake they launched a small canoe, into which Crusoewas ordered to jump; then, embarking, they paddled swiftly to theopposite shore, singing a canoe song as they dipped their paddles inthe moonlit waters of the lake. Arrived at the other side, they hauledthe canoe up and hurried through the thin belt of wood and willowsthat intervened between the lake and the prairie. Here they paused.
"Is that the bluff, Joe?"
"No, Dick; that's too near. T'other one'll be best--far away to theright. It's a little one, and there's others near it. The sharp eyeso' the Redskins won't be so likely to be prowlin' there."
"Come on, then; but we'll have to take down by the lake first."
In a few minutes the hunters were threading their way through theoutskirts of the wood at a rapid trot, in the opposite direction fromthe bluff, or wooded knoll, which they wished to reach. This they didlest prying eyes should have followed them. In quarter of an hour theyturned at right angles to their track, and struck straight out intothe prairie, and after a long run they edged round and came in uponthe bluff from behind.
It was merely a collection of stunted but thick-growing willows.
Forcing their way into the centre of this they began to examine it.
"It'll do," said Joe.
"De very ting," remarked Henri.
"Come here, Crusoe."
Crusoe bounded to his master's side, and looked up in his face.
"Look at this place, pup; smell it well."
Crusoe instantly set off all round among the willows, in and out,snuffing everywhere, and whining with excitement.
"Come here, good pup; that will do. Now, lads, we'll go back." Sosaying, Dick and his friends left the bluff, and retraced their stepsto the camp. Before they had gone far, however, Joe halted, andsaid,--
"D'ye know, Dick, I doubt if the pup's so cliver as ye think. What ifhe don't quite onderstand ye?"
Dick replied by taking off his cap and throwing it down, at the sametime exclaiming, "Take it yonder, pup," and pointing with his handtowards the bluff. The dog seized the cap, and went off with it atfull speed towards the willows, where it left it, and came gallopingback for the expected reward--not now, as in days of old, a bit ofmeat, but a gentle stroke of its head and a hearty clap on its shaggyside.
"Good pup! go now an' fetch it."
Away he went with a bound, and in a few seconds came back anddeposited the cap at his master's feet.
"Will that do?" asked Dick, triumphantly.
"Ay, lad, it will. The pup's worth its weight in goold."
"Oui, I have said, and I say it agen, de dog is _human_, so him is. Ifnot, fat am he?"
Without pausing to reply to this perplexing question, Dick steppedforward again, and in half-an-hour or so they were back in the camp.
"Now for _your_ part of the work, Joe. Yonder's the squaw that ownsthe half-drowned baby. Everything depends on her."
Dick pointed to the Indian woman as he spoke. She was sitting besideher tent, and playing at her knee was the identical youngster who hadbeen saved by Crusoe.
"I'll manage it," said Joe, and walked towards her, while Dick andHenri returned to the chief's tent.
"Does the Pawnee woman thank the Great Spirit that her child issaved?" began Joe as he came up.
"She does," answered the woman, looking up at the hunter. "And herheart is warm to the Pale-faces."
After a short silence Joe continued,--
"The Pawnee chiefs do not love the Pale-faces. Some of them hatethem."
"The Dark Flower knows it," answered the woman; "she is sorry. Shewould help the Pale-faces if she could."
This was uttered in a low tone, and with a meaning glance of the eye.
Joe hesitated again--could he trust her? Yes; the feelings that filledher breast and prompted her words were not those of the Indian justnow--they were those of a _mother_, whose gratitude was too full forutterance.
"Will the Dark Flower," said Joe, catching the name she had givenherself, "help the Pale-face if he opens his heart to her? Will sherisk the anger of her nation?"
"She will," replied the woman; "she will do what she can."
Joe and his dark friend now dropped their high-sounding style ofspeech, and spoke for some minutes rapidly in an undertone. It wasfinally arranged that on a given day, at a certain hour, the womanshould take the four horses down the shores of the lake to its lowerend, as if she were going for firewood, there cross the creek at theford, and drive them to the willow bluff, and guard them till thehunters should arrive.
Having settled this, Joe returned to the tent and informed hiscomrades of his success.
During the next three days Joe kept the Indians in good-humour bygiving them one or two trinkets, and speaking in glowing terms of theriches of the white men, and the readiness with which they would partwith them to the savages if they would only make peace.
Meanwhile, during the dark hours of each night, Dick managed toabstract small quantities of goods from their pack, in room of whichhe stuffed in pieces of leather to keep up the size and appearance.The goods thus taken out he concealed about his person, and went offwith a careless swagger to the outskirts of the village, with Crusoeat his heels. Arrived there, he tied the goods in a small piece ofdeerskin, and gave the bundle to the dog, with the injunction, "Takeit yonder, pup."
Crusoe took it up at once, darted off at full speed with the bundle inhis mouth, down the shore of the lake towards the ford of the river,and was soon lost to view. In this way, little by little, the goodswere conveyed by the faithful dog to the willow bluff and left there,while the stuffed pack still remained in safe keeping in the chiefstent.
Joe did not at first like the idea of thus sneaking off from the camp,and more than once made strong efforts to induce San-it-sa-rish to lethim go; but even that chief's countenance was not so favourable as ithad been. It was clear that he could not make up his mind to let slipso good a chance of obtaining guns, powder and shot, horses, andgoods, without
any trouble; so Joe made up his mind to give them theslip at once.
A dark night was chosen for the attempt, and the Indian woman went offwith the horses to the place where firewood for the camp was usuallycut. Unfortunately, the suspicion of that wily savage Mahtawa had beenawakened, and he stuck close to the hunters all day--not knowing whatwas going on, but feeling convinced that something was brewing whichhe resolved to watch, without mentioning his suspicions to any one.
"I think that villain's away at last," whispered Joe to his comrades."It's time to go, lads; the moon won't be up for an hour. Come along."
"Have ye got the big powder-horn, Joe?"
"Ay, ay, all right."
"Stop! stop! my knife, my couteau. Ah, here I be! Now, boy."
The three set off as usual, strolling carelessly to the outskirtsof the camp; then they quickened their pace, and, gaining the lake,pushed off in a small canoe.
At the same moment Mahtawa stepped from the bushes, leaped intoanother canoe, and followed them.
"Ha! he must die," muttered Henri.
"Not at all," said Joe; "we'll manage him without that."
The chief landed and strode boldly up to them, for he knew well thatwhatever their purpose might be they would not venture to use theirrifles within sound of the camp at that hour of the night. As fortheir knives, he could trust to his own active limbs and the woods toescape and give the alarm if need be.
"The Pale-faces hunt very late," he said, with a malicious grin. "Dothey love the dark better than the sunshine?"
"Not so," replied Joe, coolly; "but we love to walk by the light ofthe moon. It will be up in less than an hour, and we mean to take along ramble to-night."
"The Pawnee chief loves to walk by the moon, too; he will go with thePale-faces."
"Good!" ejaculated Joe. "Come along, then."
The party immediately set forward, although the savage was a littletaken by surprise at the indifferent way in which Joe received hisproposal to accompany them. He walked on to the edge of the prairie,however, and then stopped.
"The Pale-faces must go alone," said he; "Mahtawa will return to histent."
Joe replied to this intimation by seizing him suddenly by the throatand choking back the yell that would otherwise have brought the Pawneewarriors rushing to the scene of action in hundreds. Mahtawa's handwas on the handle of his scalping-knife in a moment, but before hecould draw it his arms were glued to his sides by the bear-likeembrace of Henri, while Dick tied a handkerchief quickly yet firmlyround his mouth. The whole thing was accomplished in two minutes.After taking his knife and tomahawk away, they loosened their gripeand escorted him swiftly over the prairie.
Mahtawa was perfectly submissive after the first convulsive strugglewas over. He knew that the men who walked on each side of him graspinghis arms were more than his match singly, so he wisely made noresistance.
Hurrying him to a clump of small trees on the plain which was so fardistant from the village that a yell could not be heard, they removedthe bandage from Mahtawa's mouth.
"_Must_ he be kill?" inquired Henri, in a tone of commiseration.
"Not at all," answered Joe; "we'll tie him to a tree and leave himhere."
"Then he vill be starve to deat'. Oh, dat is more horrobell!"
"He must take his chance o' that. I've no doubt his friends'll findhim in a day or two, an' he's game to last for a week or more. Butyou'll have to run to the willow bluff, Dick, and bring a bit of lineto tie him. We can't spare it well; but there's no help."
"But there _is_ help," retorted Dick. "Just order the villain to climbinto that tree."
"Why so, lad?"
"Don't ask questions, but do what I bid ye."
The hunter smiled for a moment as he turned to the Indian, and orderedhim to climb up a small tree near to which he stood. Mahtawa lookedsurprised, but there was no alternative. Joe's authoritative tonebrooked no delay, so he sprang into the tree like a monkey.
"Crusoe," said Dick, "_watch him!_"
The dog sat quietly down at the foot of the tree, and fixed his eyeson the savage with a glare that spoke unutterable things. At the sametime he displayed his full complement of teeth, and uttered a soundlike distant thunder.
Joe almost laughed, and Henri did laugh outright.
"Come along; he's safe now," cried Dick, hurrying away in thedirection of the willow bluff, which they soon reached, and found thatthe faithful squaw had tied their steeds to the bushes, and, moreover,had bundled up their goods into a pack, and strapped it on the back ofthe pack-horse; but she had not remained with them.
"Bless yer dark face!" ejaculated Joe, as he sprang into the saddleand rode out of the clump of bushes.
He was followed immediately by the others, and in three minutes theywere flying over the plain at full speed.
On gaining the last far-off ridge, that afforded a distant view of thewoods skirting the Pawnee camp, they drew up; and Dick, putting hisfingers to his mouth, drew a long, shrill whistle.
It reached the willow bluff like a faint echo. At the same moment themoon arose and more clearly revealed Crusoe's cataleptic glare at theIndian chief, who, being utterly unarmed, was at the dog's mercy. Theinstant the whistle fell on his ear, however, he dropped his eyes,covered his teeth, and, leaping through the bushes, flew over theplains like an arrow. At the same instant Mahtawa, descending fromhis tree, ran as fast as he could towards the village, uttering theterrible war-whoop when near enough to be heard. No sound sends such athrill through an Indian camp. Every warrior flew to arms, and vaultedon his steed. So quickly was the alarm given that in less than tenminutes a thousand hoofs were thundering on the plain, and faintlyreached the ears of the fugitives.
Joe smiled. "It'll puzzle them to come up wi' nags like ours. They'rein prime condition, too--lots o' wind in' em. If we only keep out o'badger holes we may laugh at the red varmints."
Joe's opinion of Indian horses was correct. In a very few minutes thesound of hoofs died away; but the fugitives did not draw bridle duringthe remainder of that night, for they knew not how long the pursuitmight be continued. By pond, and brook, and bluff they passed, downin the grassy bottoms and over the prairie waves--nor checked theirheadlong course till the sun blazed over the level sweep of theeastern plain as if it arose out of the mighty ocean.
Then they sprang from the saddle, and hastily set about thepreparation of their morning meal.
The Dog Crusoe and His Master: A Story of Adventure in the Western Prairies Page 11