XXXVI THE WHITE TRADER
While Louis and Walter stared, amazed and apprehensive, the Black Murrayrose to his feet and turned to the chief. He said a few words in Dakota;his all too familiar voice sending another chill up Walter's spine,gathered his blanket about him, gave the boys one scornful glance, andstrode around the fire and out of the tipi.
Louis drew a long breath to steady himself, and spoke to the chief again.Still uncertain whether the Indians understood any French, the boythanked the young chief for receiving his comrade and himself. They hadenjoyed the visit to the village, he said, but must return to their owncamp now, as the hour was growing late. They hoped to see more of thechief and his people in the morning. At the close of this speech, Louisbowed slightly, and began to step backward around the fire.
Walter imitated his friend, carefully keeping his face turned towards thechief. That young man waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. Not oneof the Indians made a move to hinder the two from leaving.
It was an enormous relief to be out of that tipi, yet both boys knew theywere far from being out of danger. From the illuminated lodge in thecenter of the camp, the thumping of the drum and the clacking of rattleswent on tirelessly. Fires had been kindled in a circle around the bigtipi, and about them men and women were gathering.
"There is to be some kind of a dance," Louis whispered. "Look!" heexclaimed suddenly. He gripped Walter's arm and drew him back into theshadow of an unlighted lodge.
Crossing the open space, in the full light of the blazing fires, was thetall, stately form of Murray. A great, hairy buffalo robe fell looselyfrom his broad shoulders. His head was adorned with the strangest ofheaddresses, the shaggy head of a buffalo bull, horns and nose paintedred. That stuffed buffalo head must have been exceedingly heavy, butunder its weight Murray held his own head and neck proudly erect. Lookingneither to right nor left, he strode between the fires, men and womenmaking way for him. He stooped only to enter the big tipi.
The two boys, in the protecting shadow of the dark lodge, had stoodapparently unnoticed through this show. After Murray disappeared Louisled Walter around to the side of the unlighted dwelling farthest from thefire.
"We must be away," he whispered. "This is no place for us."
Silently, cautiously, they made their way among the tipis. The whole bandseemed to have gathered in the central space, yet the boys were not toescape notice. They were passing through the outer circle of dwellings,when a man suddenly appeared in front of them. It was thebroad-shouldered warrior who had brought them to the camp. He spokeurgently, pointing again and again towards the inner circle of lodges,and making the hat-wearer sign.
Louis shook his head. "_Non, non_," he replied emphatically. "We haveseen enough of your white trader. A fine white man he is. Go on, Walter,"he ordered, and Walter obeyed.
If the Dakota did not understand the words, he could not mistake theboys' actions. He tried to seize Louis by the arm. Louis dodged, jumpingto one side nimbly, eluded the Indian, and ran after Walter, who alsobroke into a run. To their surprise, the man did not attempt to followthem. Perhaps the middle-aged, rather heavily built brave despaired ofcatching the light-footed lads. At any rate he let them go. There was noone else near by to stop them.
As soon as the boys were sure they were not being followed, they slowedto a walk.
"We are well out of that," said Louis, drawing a long breath of relief.
"Yes. I can't understand why Murray let us go so easily."
"I fear we have not seen the last of _le Murrai Noir_ yet," was the soberreply. "If he had abused us, cursed us, threatened us, I should have lessfear. I do not like his silence, the way he allowed us to go withoutraising a hand against us."
"The Indians seem friendly. Perhaps they won't let him touch us."
"That may be. They may be afraid that any trouble with white men willbring vengeance upon them. Yet I do not like the looks of that youngchief. And he did not offer us food. That is a bad sign, Walter. If hehad invited us to eat, to smoke the calumet, but he did not." Louis shookhis head doubtfully.
"I can't imagine," Walter pondered, "why Murray went out and left us, andthen sent that man after us again."
Louis was equally puzzled. "It is all very strange. _Le Murrai_ sent himfor us. Surely that was what he meant. Then, when we reached the camp,another man came and took us away from him. And when we were leaving, thefirst fellow came again and wished us to go back."
"Perhaps Murray wanted to see us alone, and the chief interfered," Waltersuggested.
"So he sent for us again? But we saw _le Murrai_ going to join in thedance. The dance will take a long time, all night perhaps, and he is thechief figure in it I think."
"He certainly looked as if he was. Louis, is there really any white bloodin Murray at all?"
"That is another strange thing," returned the troubled Louis. "It isstrange that those Indians should speak of him as a hat-wearer, a whiteman. Rather he seems one of themselves."
Discussing and pondering the bewildering events of the past few hours,the boys made their way across the prairie towards their own camp. Themoon had risen and lighted their way. The camp fire, a flickering pointof light, guided them and assured them that all was well with theircompanions. Had there been no spark of fire at all, or had a great columnof flame sprung up, the two would have been running at full speed. Theirpuzzlings led to no solution of their strange treatment at the hands ofMurray and the chief.
"I am certain of but one thing," Louis asserted finally. He spokeemphatically and in a louder tone than he had been using. "There ismischief brewing in that camp to-night, and _le Murrai Noir_ is thecenter of it."
"Aye, you are right there."
The words, in a strange voice, came from behind them. With one impulsethe boys sprang apart, and turned. Louis' hand was on the hilt of hishunting knife.
Close to them, leading a horse, was a tall form, a very tall form. Tallerhe seemed than Murray himself, though perhaps that was because he was sogaunt and thin. In the moonlight the boys could see that his buckskinclothes hung loosely upon his long frame. He wore a cap, and had a bushybeard.
"You were too busy with your talk," the strange man went on rebukingly."The whole band might have stolen up on you." He spoke easy, fluentCanadian French, but with a peculiar accent that reminded Walter ofNeil's manner of speech.
"Who are you?" demanded Louis, his hand still on his knife.
"I'm the hat-wearer that sent for you."
"You are the white trader? Then it wasn't _le Murrai_?"
"It was not. But you're right in thinking he's the center of the mischiefover there. I sent Shahaka to your camp. He was to bring you straight tomy lodge, but someone, Murray or Tatanka Wechacheta, interfered. Then Itold Shahaka to wait for you at the edge of the village, but you wouldn'tgo back with him. I wanted to warn you of what was going on. I thought itwiser not to go to your camp myself. My influence with that young fool ofa chief is not so strong as it was before the big medicine man Murraycame along."
"He claims to be a medicine man?" asked Louis.
"Aye, a mighty one, with all sorts of _wakan_. He is teaching a pickedfew rascals of them a new medicine dance. They will dance and powwow tillnear the dawn, then Murray will feast them and fill them full of rum."
"But why?"
"Why? He's a free trader, that Murray, a clever one and not particularabout his methods, his boasts that he got his start by stealing pemmicanfrom the Hudson Bay Company and then selling it back to them, through afriend, for trade goods. If he can make those foolish savages look up tohim and fear him as a great _witan wishasha_, he can do anything he likeswith them in the way of trade. He has sold them a lot of medicinesalready, charms against evil spirits and injury in battle, charms to givethem power over their enemies and the beasts they hunt." The tall manchanged the subject abruptly. "You have horses and carts and goods withyou?" he demanded.
"No trade goods, ex
cept a few little things for presents. But we have twocarts loaded with our personal things, and four good horses, and anEskimo dog."
"You will have none of them by sunrise," was the grim response, "if youstay here. Murray is not the man to let all that slip through hisfingers."
"Then why did he let us leave the camp?"
"And why not? He can put his hand on you whenever he likes. In a fewhours he will have plenty of drunken savages to do his will."
Walter shivered. He was thinking, not of himself, but of Elise and Mrs.Brabant and the children.
As they drew near the camp, Neil, gun in hand, sprang up from the ground,where he had been lying, watching their approach. He had been worriedbecause, instead of two only, he could make out three men and a horse.
Entering the circle around the fire, Louis introduced the stranger. "Thisis the man who sent for us, the trader."
The tall man pulled off his fur cap and ducked his head to Mrs. Brabant."I'm Duncan McNab, at your service, Madame," he said. He caught sight ofNeil's freckled face and blue bonnet. "Ye're a Scot," he said accusinglyin English.
"I am that, and sa are you," Neil retorted promptly.
"Aye. Ye'll be fra Kildonan na doot, but there's na time ta be talkin'aboot that." He turned to Louis and spoke in French again. "You arecamped on the edge of a coulee. Did you pick this spot on purpose?"
The boy nodded.
"Then you know what to do. The coulee leads towards the Bois des Sioux.Leave your fire burning. The savages will think you're still here."
"Our carts make so much noise," interposed Walter. "If any of theirscouts or camp guards should hear that squeaking----"
"Leave the carts behind," McNab interrupted. "I doubt if you could takethem up the coulee."
"We can go faster without them anyway," Louis agreed, "and get more outof our horses."
"Travel light, a little pemmican, your weapons and ammunition, nothingelse. It is hard to lose all your things, Madame," the trader saidbluntly to Mrs. Brabant, "but better than to run the risk of yourchildren falling into the hands of Tatanka Wechacheta and the BlackMurray."
"Murray?" cried Mr. Perier.
"You know him?"
"We all know him. We have good cause to," said Walter.
"That makes it all the worse, if he has anything against you. No, don'ttell me the story now. We have no time to exchange tales."
"If we must leave the carts behind," Neil suggested, "why not hide themin the coulee? Then the Indians may think we have taken them along. Laterwe can come back from Lake Traverse and get them."
"It micht work oot that wa'," returned McNab, falling into Scots' Englishagain, "but I'm thinkin' they'll find the cairts easy eneuch."
"We'll tak them _doon_ the coulee a bit," Neil insisted, in the sametongue. "If Murray finds the tracks he'll maybe think we've gane doon tathe Wild Rice and back across."
The trader shook his head. "He'll be findin' your trail all richt, but yecan maybe delay him for a bit. Weel, do what you're goin' ta do quick,an' be awa' wi' ye. I maun be gettin' back or they'll miss me."
"You're na comin' wi' us?" cried Neil.
"Na, na, I'm not rinnin' awa' yet." He switched to French and took hisleave of the others. "Cross the Bois des Sioux and make speed for LakeTraverse," he advised. "Tell Renville I'll be back there in a few days.It was Renville sent me to find out what that rascal Murray was up to.Good speed and God go with you."
South from Hudson Bay: An Adventure and Mystery Story for Boys Page 37