CHAPTER IV
THE BIRCH BARK MESSAGE
"THERE, I could see him reach down then and strike at a leaping wolf!"exclaimed Dick, showing signs of excitement, something he seldom did,since he had wonderful control over his emotions for a boy of his age.
"Just as I told you," continued Roger, trembling all over witheagerness, "he has used up his arrows, and is trying to cut down thenumber of his four-footed enemies by other means."
"There, listen to that howl!"
"Oh! he made a splendid strike that time, Dick!"
"Yes, and you can see what that clever brave is up to, if you noticethe wild scuffle at the foot of the tree," the other replied.
"Why, the wolves seem to be fighting among themselves, Dick. What makesthem act that way, do you know?"
"I can give a guess. These mad animals are almost starving, thoughjust how that should be, at this season of the year, I am not able tosay. The scent of blood makes them wild, you see, and, every time thebrave's knife wounds one of the pack, the rest set upon the wretchedbeast to finish him."
"In that way the Indian could clean them up in time, I should say,without any help from us," Roger suggested, though he showed no signthat his intention of giving aid had changed in the least.
"But they might take warning, and stop jumping up at him," Dickexplained; "then his knife would be useless. And, too, other wolveshearing the noise are apt to hasten to the spot, so that there might bean increasing pack, a new one for every beast he helped to kill."
"Dick, he is a brave fellow, even if his skin is red!"
"I agree with you there," said the other, softly.
"Then are we not going to bring about his rescue, even if it does costus some of our precious powder and shot?" Roger demanded.
"Yes, but I hope it will not be more than one load," replied hiscousin; for all their lives this question of a wastage of ammunitionhad been impressed on their minds as the utmost folly, and on thataccount they seldom used their guns except to make sure of worthy game.
"Come, let us rush forward with loud yells, waving our arms, and doingeverything we can to scare the animals off before we begin to fire.After we get close up, and they are hesitating what to do, that is thetime for us to blaze away."
"A good plan, Roger, and worthy of our fathers' old friend, Pat O'Mara.Only as a last resort will we use our fire-arms."
"And you be the one to say when, Dick, remember!"
"Depend on me for that," Roger was told quickly. "Just as soon as Isee that something is needed to force the ugly beasts to make up theirminds, I'll call out to you to give it to them."
"Give me one last word of advice before we rush them, Dick."
"Yes, what is it, Roger?"
"If, instead of taking to their heels, the pack turns on us, and startsto fight, what must we do?"
"There isn't one chance in ten it will happen that way," said Dick,"for wolves are too cowardly. When they see us rushing boldly forwardyou'll notice how every beast's head will droop, and that he'll beginto skulk away, showing his teeth, perhaps, but cowed and whipped."
"But suppose it should?" urged Roger, as they paused, just beforebursting out upon the strange scene.
"If it comes to the worst we may have to take to a tree just as theIndian brave has done," Dick told him, "and then start to work killingthem off as fast as we can load and fire. Now, are you ready to do alot of yelling?"
"Just try me, that's all, Dick!"
"Come on, then, with me!"
With the words Dick sprang boldly forth from his concealment, with hiscousin alongside. Both of them started to make the woods ring withtheir strong young voices, and when two healthy boys yell and whoopthey can produce a tremendous volume of sound!
Some of those predatory wolves must have conceived the idea that awhole company of the strange two-legged foes was rushing toward them,judging from the hasty manner of their exit from the scene. Others,however, either more bold or hungry, half crouched and, snarling,showed their white teeth in a vicious manner.
Evidently these leaders of the pack were not as yet quite convincedthat the game had gone against them, despite all the noise made by theoncoming boys. On seeing this, Dick and Roger tried to shout louderthan ever, while they waved their arms in the most frantic manner.
It devolved upon Dick to decide whether or not they should keep on inthis fashion until they came to close quarters with the wolves thatlingered, loth to give up their chance of a dinner. Rushing forwardat this rate, they would be on the scene in half a dozen seconds, andmight find the ugly beasts springing up at their throats.
Never before had the boys seen wolves acting in this manner, for as arule their nature is cowardly. There was nothing for it but to fallback upon their guns for the finishing stroke, and so Dick gave theword.
"We must shoot, Roger--take that big fellow in front!" he gasped, forhe was by this time fairly out of breath after all those strenuousexertions of running, thrashing his arms, and shouting at the top ofhis voice.
Accordingly both of them halted just long enough to throw theirlong-barreled rifles to their shoulders, and glance along the sights.They could actually hear the savage snarls of the defiant pack. Roger,always a bit faster than his companion, was the first to fire, and withthe crash of his gun the big leader of the pack sprang upward, only tofall back again with his legs kicking.
Dick's gun spoke fast on the heels of the first report, and he, too,succeeded in knocking over the beast his quick eye had selected.
Then with renewed shouts, Dick and Roger once more started forward, butthere was a hasty scurrying of gray bodies, and presently not a wolfremained in sight save the pair that had gone down before the deadlyfire of the guns.
The Indian up in the tree dropped to the ground, and the boys sawimmediately from his manner of dress that he was, just as Roger hadsurmised, a Sioux warrior. From the fact that he was bleeding invarious places the boys understood that he must have put up a valiantfight at close quarters against his four-footed enemies, before finallyseeking refuge among the branches of the friendly tree.
Naturally both lads immediately began to wonder why a Sioux braveshould thus venture into the neighborhood of the Mandan village, sincethe two tribes had been at knives' points for many years. Indeed, thepreceding fall, when the boys had been aided by Beaver Tail and some ofhis Sioux warriors, who accompanied them later to their camp, it hadrequired all the tact and diplomacy of which Captain Lewis was capableto prevent an open rupture between the old-time rivals.
"First we must make him let us look at his wounds," suggested Dick,"because it is no child's play to have the teeth of wolves draw blood.Some of his wounds look bad to me."
"I think you are right, Dick," agreed the other, always accustomed toleaving the decision to his cousin. "See if you can make him understandwhat we want to do. I'll get some water in my hat, so you can wash thewounds."
The boys always made it a practice to carry certain homely remedieswith them, for in those pioneer days the family medicine chestconsisted in the main of dried herbs, and lotions made from them, allput up by the wise housewife. Those who lived this simple life, andwere most of the time in the open air, seldom found themselves in needof a doctor, and most of their troubles sprang either from accidents,or injuries received in combats with wild beasts of the forest.
So it was that they had with them a salve they always used to soothethe pain, as well as neutralize the poison injected by bites orscratches received in struggles at close quarters with carnivorousbeasts.
The Indian was looking at them as though puzzled. Whites were rarelyseen by the dwellers in these far regions beyond the Mississippi;indeed, most of the natives had never as yet set eyes on a paleface.
This brave, however, may have been in company with Beaver Tail, thefriendly chief, at the time he aided the two boys, and, if so, heundoubtedly recognized Dick and Roger.
Unable to speak the Sioux tongue, of which they knew but a few words,it would be necessary
for Dick to make use of gestures in conductinga brief conversation with the other. Still, the smile on his face,as well as the fact of his recent acts, would readily tell the redwanderer that he was a friend.
"Ugh! Ugh!" was all the Indian could say, but he accepted the hand thatwas extended, though possibly this method of greeting was strange tohim.
Dick pressed him to sit down, and the brave did so, though withincreasing wonder. He speedily realized, however, what the white boysmeant to do, and without offering any remonstrance continued silentlyto watch their labor, as they proceeded to look after his injuries.
Roger fetched his hat full of cool water from a running brook closeby, and one by one Dick washed the numerous scratches and ugly furrowswhere those wolfish fangs had torn the flesh of the stoical brave'slower limbs.
He gave no sign of flinching, though the pain must have been more thana trifle. The boys knew enough of Indian character to feel sure that,if it had been ten times as severe, he would have calmly endured it,otherwise he could not have claimed the right to wear the feather theycould see in his scalplock, and which signified that he was a warrior,or brave.
Finally the task was completed. There had been nothing further heardfrom the remnant of the baffled wolf pack all this while, proving thatthe loss of their powerful leaders must have taken the last bit ofcourage from the animals, known never to be very brave.
All the while the Sioux continued to keep those black eyes of his gluedon Dick Armstrong. It was as though he was in search of some one andhad made up his mind that, since there could be no other paleface boyswithin a thousand miles of the spot, these must be the ones he had beencommissioned to find.
Just about the time Dick, with another of his rare smiles, indicatedthat the work of looking after his injuries had been completed, theSioux fumbled in his snake-skin ditty bag, where he kept his littlestock of pemmican, and numerous other necessary articles, perhaps hiswar paint as well. To the astonishment of the boys he drew out a smallroll of birch bark, secured far to the north, and handed it to Dick.
Filled with curiosity, the boy opened it with trembling fingers, tofind, just as he had anticipated, that it was covered with a series ofqueer characters, painted after the Indian fashion and representing menand animals.
"It's Indian picture writing, you see, Roger!" Dick declared, "and mustbe meant for us, or else this brave would not give it over. He has beensent here from the far-away Sioux village to find us, and deliver amessage."
"Yes," added Roger, excitedly. "And look, Dick, there is what seemsto be the awkward but plain picture of a beaver at the end of themessage. It must have been sent by our good friend, the chief of theSioux."
"You are right that far, Roger, for it is meant to be the signature ofBeaver Tail, himself. Now to see if we can make out what it says!"
The Pioneer Boys of the Columbia; or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest Page 7