The Fiery Totem

by C. F. Argyll Saxby

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE BATTLE OF WITS!

  It was only to be expected that Bob was not fit for much exertion afterhis experience with the muskeg, and it was Skipper Mackintosh's decisionon returning to camp that the boy should proceed no farther that night.

  "But that will be a longer time before we get on the track of ourfathers," protested Arnold, to whom the thought of inactivity for eventwelve hours was irksome.

  "Better to bide quiet for a night at present than be laid up for dayslater on," was the Scotsman's response. "But you can set your mindeasy-like. The time will no' be lost, for Haggis and me will set oot ona wee scouting expedition to the place where we found yon hanky. We'llbe back by midnight."

  This plan was a relief to the boys' minds, for though it entailed acertain delay in the forward journey, the result of the scouting mightcurtail matters in the long-run. Mackintosh's report might enable themto make more definite plans than were possible at present.

  So, after a few preparations for the journey, the two men set off,accompanied by the faithful Bannock, early in the afternoon.

  "Don't you go and disappear like the others did!" laughed Holden, towhich the "ceevilised" Haggis replied--

  "Fox lose trail in bush easier than me!"

  It was a hot afternoon, so, when the boys had watched their friendsdisappear in the forest, Bob decided that it would be a good opportunityto wash the mud and slime from his clothes, as they would soon dry inthe sun.

  No sooner said than done. The soiled garments were stripped (for ofcourse the lads were reduced to one suit apiece) and the stream utilisedas a washing-tub, after which Bob was obliged to sit in his suit ofNature while the clothes of Art were drying upon handy branches.

  As we said, the day was hot, and, as the grassy slope upon which theboys sat formed the margin of a clear pool where the stream widened, itwas not to be expected that the period of idle ease would be prolonged.

  "Ah!" Bob suddenly exclaimed, as he sat up and regarded the water withcovetous eyes, "the temptation is too much for me. I'm going to have adip."

  "It certainly looks more tempting than your plunge into mud. A pleasantchange, I should say," remarked Alf chaffingly. Then he added merrily:"But are you sure that you can stand it? It won't do to exert yourselftoo much yet. Old Mackintosh expects you to rest."

  "That's all right. I shan't muck about very much. I can take it easy. Asa matter of fact, I am sure that a plunge will buck me up."

  "All serene," returned the younger boy, rising to prepare himself for abathe. "So long as you don't think that it will do you any harm, I'mready."

  A short run, and then Bob had entered the water in the clean-cut styleof a practised diver.

  "It's glorious!" he called to his chum, who was almost ready to followhis leader. "I should think that it is quite eight feet in the middle,so you can plunge safely."

  "Right. Clear out of the way!" was the response, and in a second moreHolden in his turn cleft the sparkling water.

  Those of our readers who are only familiar with the cheerless sea oreven the placid river-bathing of England can have no idea of the charmthat is found in emulating the fishes in the cool depths of a Westernforest stream.

  Imagine the great trunks of cedar and pine and the gnarled giants ofmaples spreading their great arms--shutting off the distance with asurrounding barrier of dense colour; imagine the red willows dippingtheir heads in the margin of the bowl, gaily coloured birds skimming thesurface in pursuit of insects, and gaudy butterflies sometimes touchingyour cheek, like a piece of down borne upon the mellow air. At such atime, in such a place, you feel yourself to be but a tiny little speckin the centre of the world of Nature. You feel as free as a savage. Ifyou are not happy, it must be that you are a weakling boy who lacks thereal boy's love for out-of-door freedom.

  These were some of the sensations that our young heroes experienced asthey splashed about in the crystal pool. Probably they did not realisethe details as I have described them; but that was the effect, all thesame. It is the glorious sense of freedom that everybody feels if theyhave the "backwoods spirit." It cannot be properly described, but I cansmell the atmosphere of it all, even though I am now sitting in anEnglish room in an English county. And so intent were the boys on theenjoyment of the moment that they did not observe the figure of anIndian who crept out of the bush near by while they were experimentingin various positions for swimming.

  The Indian paused for a few moments. Then, seeing the attention of thelads was devoted to their amusement, he crept to the tent like a snakein the long grass. This he examined thoroughly, and he gave a grunt ofsatisfaction as he discovered the pack-horse picketed near by. Afterthis, seeing no necessity for further secrecy of movement, he boldlywalked to the edge of the pool where the boys were bathing, and sat downquietly to watch their play.

  It was Alf who was the first to discover the stranger. "I say! There'san Indian!" he exclaimed.

  "Where?" questioned Bob, who had swum a little way out of sight beyond acurve in the creek.

  "Over there--beside our clothes. But, I say, what a horrible face he hasgot! He looks as if a lion had started to chew him and changed his mind!He's the ugliest-looking freak I ever saw."

  Taking for granted that the Indian would not understand theuncomplimentary remarks, Holden swam towards the side of the pool, beingquickly followed by his chum. But the Indian had understood. He was asfamiliar with colloquial English as he was with his own tongue.Nevertheless, he did not alter the grin on his face, though there wassomething very different from a grin at his heart--a something which (ifthe rash speaker had only known it) had suddenly determined him to carryout his contract in quite a different manner from that which had beenarranged with Thunder-maker.

  An Indian is a queer creature at the best. He loves as quickly andimpulsively as he hates, while devotion may be turned into detestationas rapidly as a vessel of clear water is discoloured by a drop of ink.Red Fox's eyes flashed fire towards the imprudent lad, though his lipsstill smiled, and anyone who was a judge of Indian character would haveunderstood from that look that it would be an ill moment for Alf if everit was within the power of the redskin to repay the insultingexpressions.

  By this time both lads had reached the shore, whereupon Bob addressedthe stranger while the pair proceeded to dress--Arnold's clothes beingdry by this time.

  "Well, where have you come from?" the boy questioned.

  "Trail long. Red Fox come over prairie--bush--far--far----"

  "Oh, you understand English?" exclaimed Alf, at the same time hopingthat the Indian had not heard enough, or understood English well enough,to comprehend the recent criticisms as to his personal appearance.

  The redskin nodded, though he craftily pretended that his knowledge ofthe foreign tongue was but scanty.

  "Red Fox know little--very little. He speak--he no' understand all thatears tell him."

  "And a jolly good job, too," commented Alf to his friend. "He's ahideous monster, but I shouldn't like to hurt his feelings by lettinghim know my opinion."

  "I don't think that I would express it too freely, if I were you," saidBob, who had quickly resumed his everyday attire. "You never can tellhow much fellows like that understand. I remember father telling me thatIndians won't always admit that they know English well. They think thatthey can drive better bargains by pretending ignorance."

  Then the boy turned to the native, and the fact that the man was aloneand seemed to have no other possessions than his gun, hunting-knife, andpipe, raised doubts in the lad's mind as to the truth of the statementconcerning the long journey. He knew and had heard sufficient aboutIndians to be aware that they seldom travelled any distance withouttheir family and other belongings.

  "You said that you had come a long trail?" he said, regarding the Indianwith a sharp scrutiny.

  Red Fox bowed assent, taking out his pipe to fill it with kini-ka-nik(tobacco and red willow bark mixed) as he spoke.

  "Red Fox come far--with feet of de
er. He have story for ear of pale-facebrothers."

  The boys started at the remark, while Alf repeated--

  "A story?"

  "From the white men to their papooses."

  This was news indeed; but the unexpected announcement disarmed suspicionfor the moment.

  "From our fathers?" said Bob eagerly. "Where are they? What has keptthem from returning to camp?"

  "The white men rest," replied the Indian. "The trail far. They find RedFox, and they say: 'Go, find our papooses and lead them by straighttrail to our tent.'"

  "But they had no tent with them!" exclaimed Alf, at once touching theweak point in the falsehood. "Perhaps they are with other Indians?"

  Red Fox had not been instructed by Thunder-maker in the details of thestory that he was to tell in order to gain his ends. It had not occurredto him to invent more than that he had been sent to bring the lads. Thathad seemed sufficient to attain his aims, though he realised that itwould not do to say that the white men were captives. That mightfrighten the boys and prevent their following his guidance. The poorservant had not calculated upon the probing questions that would havebeen naturally anticipated by an English mind and prepared for.

  But he saw the blunder, and hastened to amend the error as best hemight.

  "White men with Indians--with friends. Red men good to pale-faces--givethem food and teepees and robes to rest on. So white men wish papoosesto follow where Red Fox walk."

  Holden turned aside to his chum.

  "I'll be hanged if I'll follow the lead of a murderous-looking villainlike that unless he can show very good reasons why I should. His face islike a nightmare."

  "I can't say I like the look of him myself," returned Bob. "He hasn'tgot the expression of a fellow you could trust. Besides, don't you thinkthat if our fathers were well and had sent a native messenger tous--don't you think that they would have sent some sort of writtenmessage as well?"

  "It would have been easy enough. Father always carries his notebook andpencil with him----"

  "So he could have easily explained matters. I don't think he would havetrusted an Indian to be understood. It isn't as if we knew anything ofthe lingo."

  While the boys were thus discussing the situation in low tones, they didnot heed how Red Fox was observing them sharply from the corners of hiseyes. He was trying to discover how far his deception had succeeded,though he endeavoured to hide his anxious observation by the action oflighting his redstone pipe. And it must be confessed that his keenscrutiny of the lads' faces did not reassure him. He could see suspicionplainly marked in both, while his heart burned with fire of anger,though resentment was mainly directed to the younger lad, whoseinadvertent remarks had cut so deeply into the savage pride.

  But the redskin's mental observations were suddenly cut short by Bob,who wheeled upon him with a sudden inspiration.

  "Look here," he said quickly, though his voice was pleasant and almostreassuring, "it is very good of you to travel so far to bring us thisnews. We are glad to see you, and will try to give you a good present.But we will settle our business first. So, give me the letter, and thenwe will go to the tent and eat."

  "Letter?"

  The Indian repeated the single word in a puzzled tone.

  "Yes; the one my father gave you," said Bob.

  So mystified was Red Fox by the intelligence that apparently he had notonly been expected by the boys but that he had been looked for as thebearer of a letter from the fathers to their sons, that he wasmomentarily startled out of his caution in pretending an only slightacquaintance with the English language.

  He stared open-eyed at the question, and Bob continued evenly--

  "Of course my father would send a letter if he wanted us. He would dothat to prove that his messenger was one whom we could trust. Did hegive you one?"

  Red Fox was quite taken off his guard by the white boy's guile, but hestrove to cover his confusion by further lying.

  "Yes--the white man send paper by hand of Red Fox, but--but Red Foxfoolish; he--lose letter--on trail----"

  "But you are _sure_ you had one? It would be written--in red--with a redpencil--a red paint-stick."

  "My white brother speaks true," said the Indian.

  "Of course he does!" chimed in Alf, to whom his chum's ruse was nowclear. "And if that letter was written in red and sent to us, we wouldknow where it came from, and would follow the messenger at once."

  The Indian flashed a quick glance of hatred towards the last speaker,but instantly lowered his eyelids again, as he returned with morecalmness than before--

  "It is well. The pale-face did paint letter with red. But--Red Foxfoolish Indian. He lose letter on trail. He seek much--much--but no'find."

  The game of bluff had succeeded. Now the boys knew for certain that theman was lying--that he had not been commissioned by either of theirparents, and both laughed derisively.

  "Trapped!" exclaimed Holden triumphantly. "You've got him tight as arabbit in a gin, Bob."

  How that sneering laughter scorched the redman's pride! It touched himat the quick, and caused him to writhe inwardly, until his fingerstwitched beneath the folds of his blanket with eagerness to tear out thetongue that thus jeered at him. Yet the lads did not dream how near theywere to tragedy as they laughed at the little comedy, with the chiefactor sitting huddled at their feet. They did not notice how theIndian's eyes first measured the distance from the overhanging bank tothe surface of the water, and then as quietly calculated the distancebetween himself and the lads.

  "Yes, you were indeed foolish," resumed Arnold, "for you have shown usthat your words were lies. My father never wrote such a letter, I amsure, for a red pencil is not a thing that he possesses. And if he werewell enough to write, he would be well enough to come himself, insteadof sending such a foolish Indian and a bad liar."

  "At the same time," whispered Alf, "the chap must know something, or hewouldn't be here at all. We must find out that in some way or other."

  "True," Bob said.

  But there was no time allowed for considering what means to adopt toobtain further information, for just at that moment Red Fox uttered awild cry, and sprang from the ground with the leap of a deer. Nextinstant Bob was gripped as in a vice and flung into the centre of thepool; then, with a snarl like that of a wild cat, the Indian sprang forAlf's throat.