CHAPTER XIX
A SUDDEN PERIL
"NOW they have gone!" said Roger, as the figures, outlined against thesky, vanished behind some outcropping rock.
"Yes, and they seemed to be starting down the side of the ridge towardus, as near as I could see," Dick declared, nor did the guide disputethe assertion.
"Could that have been our friend Jasper Williams?" demanded Roger,voicing the vague hope that was pounding at his own heart door.
"He was too far away for us to make sure, one way or another," admittedDick.
"But he seemed to be of about the same build; and, Dick, you could seenothing to prove that it was any one else, could you?"
"No, only that he was in the company of Indians," and Dick shook hishead in a way that spoke of considerable doubt.
"But then," argued Roger, "they might be friendly Mandans, or Sioux, oreven some of these Sheep-eaters we've heard about, who live in certainsections of the Wonderland in brush shacks." (Note 6.)
"Yes, that might be true, for they were too far away for us to tellfrom the feathers in their scalp-locks what tribe they belonged to,"the other boy admitted.
"And the last thing we heard about Jasper, from Hardy and Mordaunt, wasthat he was being chased by Blackfoot Indians," Roger continued.
"Well," Dick explained, "this white man was no prisoner, for I sawhim point ahead at something, which would mean that his arms were notfastened."
"We know that Williams is a remarkable man," mused Roger, "and, even ifthose braves were of the fierce Blackfoot tribe, he might have managedin some way to have made them his friends. I know it doesn't soundreasonable, but Jasper knows Indian character better than any white manwe ever met."
"If he could do that he would be a magician."
"So he would," admitted the other boy, reluctantly; "but what are wegoing to do about it, Dick?"
"There is nothing for us but to wait and see," came the reply. "Theyacted as though heading in this direction. If you asked me about ourbest move I'd say, hide and watch. If it turned out to be Jasper wecould call out; on the other hand, if it were one of these Frenchtrappers, who are hand in glove with the Blackfoot Indians, we needn'tlet them know we are around."
"But do you think they noticed us?" asked the other boy.
"That is more than I can say. I saw nothing to indicate it; but theseredskins are so tricky they would hide it, even if they knew, and werewatching us out of the tail of their eyes."
"Let us hide, and see!" Mayhew said just then, showing that he approvedof Dick's scheme.
Looking around, they quickly decided where it would be best to concealthemselves. The ground was so rough and uneven that there were plentyof places that had an inviting look. Mayhew selected a patch of bushesas a retreat, and in another minute they were crouching under thisshelter.
Although most of the leaves were off the bushes, they grew so denselythat it would require something more than a casual glance in thatdirection to betray the fact that several figures lurked there.
They heard many different sounds, for silence was hardly ever presentin this land of the spouting wells, which roared and hissed andspluttered as they shot up their steaming fountains toward the heavens.There was almost constantly a fretful murmur in the air that mightsuddenly turn into a whining shriek or a dull roar.
A low exclamation from Mayhew announced that his trained vision haddetected some sort of movement, far or near.
"What is it?" demanded Roger, on the right of the guide.
"They are coming!" was the answer.
"Tell us where, that we may see also," the other urged.
"Then turn this way, and look between those two leaning trees," saidthe guide. "But be careful that you move slowly. It is the quickactions that catch the suspicious eye of an Injun."
"Oh! now I can see them plainly," whispered Roger. "They are headingstraight for us!"
"Blackfoot warriors for a certainty!" Dick muttered.
"Can you see the white man plainly, Dick?" asked Roger, impatiently.
"Not just yet," came the reply. "He must be back among some of theIndians who hide him. But we will soon know what to expect. Keepwatching."
Almost immediately Roger himself gave a grunt. It sounded as thoughbitter chagrin was connected with the sound.
"There, I saw him plainly, Dick," he whispered, "and it isn't JasperWilliams at all. The man is a Frenchman, unless my eyes deceive me, andI ought to know what one of them looks like."
"I believe it is none other than our old enemy, Francois Lascelles!"Dick said in the ear of his cousin; a bit of information that must havegiven poor Roger a strange thrill, for he could not have imagined anymore discouraging news.
"Oh! what if he runs across us here?"
"We would have to fight for our lives, I fear. That man hates all ourfamily about as bitterly as I've heard my father say another Frenchmannamed Jacques Larue once did."
"But see how many there are of the Indians; a full dozen or more. Theylook as fierce as any braves I ever saw. I hope they pass by, and failto notice us."
"Keep still, Roger, they are getting too close now for us to talk, evenin whispers. Be ready for the worst, even while hoping for the best.That is the Armstrong motto, you know. 'Sh!"
Roger fixed himself so that he could see everything that went onwithout making the slightest movement. He knew those keen eyes of thered sons of the forest were quick to detect a suspicious movement,no matter how slight, and that, if he so much as lifted his hand,discovery would follow.
The Indians were coming forward in a string, or what the trappers ofthat day called "Indian file," one stepping in the footprints of thebrave ahead of him. In this fashion it would be difficult for any enemyon finding their trail to know whether three or twenty had passed. Itwas a piece of Indian cunning, and a part of their nature, since itcould hardly have been undertaken for any particular reason at thistime.
They were heading directly toward the copse, but, since it would offera bar to their progress, they might turn aside when it was reached.
The boys almost held their breath as they watched the approach ofthose fierce-looking Blackfeet. Up to then the brave who was held aprisoner in the Mandan village had been the only member of this notedtribe they had seen at close quarters. (Note 7.)
They were all picked men, if one could judge from their appearance;they were lithe, active as cats, alert, and at the same time muscular.Those swelling bronzed arms could doubtless paddle a dugout or a skincanoe at tremendous speed. Among them there must be braves who had wonan enviable reputation for speed at foot races; or, it might be, renownas long distance runners, capable of keeping on the trail at a dog-trotfor days and nights at a time.
It was therefore with considerable respect, and not a little anxiety aswell, that Dick and Roger watched them coming nearer.
Of course they took note of the white man, too. He was a bold-lookingadventurer, such as most of those French traders of the early centurywere, dashing in appearance, and with a certain air of recklessnessabout him, such as might be expected in those who daily took theirlives in their hands and faced unknown perils in a wilderness that wasalmost a complete mystery to white men of the day.
Francois Lascelles had entered largely into the lives of these twoboys, even though their opportunities to see the wily and unscrupulousFrench trader had been few, up to then, and mostly at their home, wherehe visited to talk business with their parents.
If they had not liked his looks at that time he certainly presented afar less prepossessing appearance now that he was away from all theoutposts of civilization and saw no need to repress the tiger elementin his nature.
To himself Dick was saying:
"That man would stop at nothing in order to have his own way. If everwe had the bad luck to fall into his power we could not expect anymercy, I am sure. And, if Jasper Williams is now in his hands, nothingcan save him, unless we are fortunate enough to be able to come to hisrescue."
This far Dick had ar
rived in his train of thought when he received asudden and severe shock. Mayhew had managed to give his foot a slightkick, as though to call his attention to something that was going onout in the open. Dick hardly required this signal to pay attention, forhe had already seen what was happening.
The Indians were no longer pushing forward as before. The one in thelead had suddenly stopped up; and he must have given vent to someexclamation that acted like magic on the rest, for every one had haltedas though controlled by a single wire.
They seemed to be gathering around their leader, who was pointingexcitedly to the ground, as though he had made an important discovery.
Mayhew grunted very softly, but the sound lost none of its significanceon account of being so gently emitted. As for Dick, he did not need tobe told what it was the Blackfoot had found; for, like a flash, it cameto him that he and his companions had headed toward the clump of bushesfrom that very spot.
The sharp eyes of the leading brave had discovered their trail! It hadbeen a fatal blunder, their neglecting to cover this up in some manner,although, at the time, it might have seemed as though there was not onechance in a thousand the hostiles would come that way.
No one moved, even though they must have felt hot and cold by turns, asthe terrible result of the discovery flashed before their minds. TheIndians were jabbering together in excited tones, though what theywere saying the boys could only guess, since they knew nothing of theBlackfoot tongue.
The white trader was apparently as curious as any of the dusky bravesin his company. He even dropped down on his hands and knees, the betterto examine the footprints. Of course it would be patent to them thatthe tracks were made by white men.
What would be the result? Would they surmise that the three daringinvaders of the Evil Manitou's Wonderland, the forge where he madeall his thunderbolts, must be secreted near by? Could they read thatthose tracks had just been made, since blades of brown grass were stillspringing up after being pressed down?
Perhaps Lascelles even knew that Dick and Roger were searching forJasper Williams! He seemed to be superhuman when it came to learningthings that were supposed to be secret. And, if that were so, then itwas indeed a gloomy outlook that faced the pioneer boys.
Dick could only catch his breath and watch to see what would happennext; that, and grip his gun tighter in his hands as he crouchedwaiting for the explosion. He knew their presence in the copse wassuspected, for the trader was even then pointing straight at the patchof bushes, and saying something to his red companions.
The Pioneer Boys of the Yellowstone; or, Lost in the Land of Wonders Page 22