Bill Biddon, Trapper Part 8

The trapper rowed the canoe quite a distance down stream, when he sheered it into sh.o.r.e close to where a huge chestnut, larger than any I had ever before witnessed, overhung the water. Its base was enveloped by a ma.s.s of undergrowth, denser than common, and we were obliged to stoop to the edge of the boat before we could make our way beneath it. As we sprang up the bank, it pulled up behind us, and I then noticed that the chestnut was hollow, and had a deep orifice at its base.

"Foller," commanded Biddon, stooping and crawling beneath it.

We did so, although there was some hesitation upon my part, and my astonishment was unbounded at what I witnessed when within. At first there was nothing visible but the intense darkness, and I stood, fearful of advancing or retreating.

"Where are you, Biddon?" asked Nat, in a slightly wavering tone. The next instant the trapper struck a light; and as its rays filled the chamber, I repeat, my astonishment was unbounded. We were standing in an open s.p.a.ce, at least eight feet in diameter. The chestnut was but a mere sh.e.l.l, with its trunk but a few inches in thickness at the most.

The interior of this was fitted up like a house. The rotten chunks upon the sides had been torn down and formed a pleasant, velvety carpet beneath the feet. All around the _walls_ were hung numerous furs, and a pile at one side afforded a bed such as we had not enjoyed for weeks. Added to all this, there was an arrangement so as to make it perfectly easy and convenient to kindle a fire. Nat was the first to express his unbounded astonishment.

"This beats all. I never seen anything like it. But don't the Injins know anything of it?"

"No, _sir_; and I cac'late as how they won't neyther, ef you don't tell 'em."

"Oh! I won't tell them. I swow this is queer," and he looked slowly about and above him. "What's that hole for?" he asked, pointing to a small orifice just visible far above us.

"That's fur the smoke to go out."

"But it must be likely to attract attention," I remarked.

"I never start a fire 'cept at night."

"I see--wonderful!" and I, too, gazed admiringly about me. The light made the whole interior visible. The dark, snuff-colored fragments of decayed wood hung in ponderous ma.s.ses above us, and the immense diameter gradually tapered as it ascended, until only the small opening, far above, was seen, resembling a faint star. The thickness of the wood, together with the great number of furs, protected us so well from the cold, that there could be little need of fire in the coldest weather, except for cooking purposes.

"This is rather odd, I allow, to you, Ja.r.s.ey; but ef you had been with me down on the Yallerstone, you'd seen suthin' as would've made you look, you would. You may shoot me, ef you wouldn't."

"I suppose I should, but not more than this has."

"Mebbe not, but don't stand gapin' there all day. It's gittin' dark, and we'll have our fodder."

The fire was now started, and the smoke ascended finely, escaping at the outlet. A good slice of meat was cooked, and we made a hearty supper upon it. After this the fire was allowed to slumber, but the light remained burning until a late hour. We lit our pipes, and chatted dreamily for a long time in our new home. The trapper, feeling in the mood, related many reminiscences of his life, including adventures both tragical and comical, and Nat gave a few of his own experiences. At a late hour we ceased, and fell into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

When I awoke the trapper had disappeared. Nat was stretched beside me still asleep. In a short time the former entered as noiselessly as he had departed.

"What fortune?" I asked.

"Good; had two fat fellers. Wake up, and we'll have a meal as is a meal."

Nat soon made a movement, and, after several yawns, became fully awake. The trapper kindled a small fire, and cooked his beaver tails.

The two made as choice and delicious a meal as I had ever eaten. Nat was convinced by one taste.

The day was clear and pleasant, and Biddon expressed his determination of going up the stream in order to see the signs of game. I accompanied him, but Nat chose to remain at home and sleep a few hours longer.

We sauntered carelessly forth up the stream through the tangled underwood. It was a clear day in autumn; the air was keen and bracing, and the woods gloriously fine. Some of the leaves were just beginning to fall, and they made a dappled and fiery carpet for our feet, rustling with a soft, pleasant sound at every step. Now and then we could hear the shrill notes of some songster of the forest, and once or twice the faint bay of some distant animal.

We had wandered some distance, when Biddon proposed turning back, as he had just discovered he had forgotten his pipe. I was too well pleased, however, with the prospect to retrace my footsteps.

Accordingly, we parted company for a time, he remarking that probably he would return when he had regained his indispensable article.

Left alone, I now wandered dreamily onward, in a pleasant reverie, hardly conscious of what I was doing, until I was recalled to my senses by the grandeur of a new scene that suddenly burst upon my view. I had ascended a small rise on the bank of the stream, from which I had an extended view of the river. I stood for a moment wrapt in the glories of the scene. Far behind could be discerned the broad bosom of the river, stretching away like a vast body of molten silver, bordered on either side by the mighty forest, until it disappeared in a sweeping curve, within the interminable wilderness. Above me for several miles the same winding course could be seen, brightly glistening for miles. Not a ripple disturbed the surface, save when a bird skimmed over it, just tipping its wings, and making a flashing circle or two. The blue sky above, unflecked by a single cloud, harmonized so well with the magnificent view, that I stood a long time, drinking in the splendor of the scene.

My eye was still resting upon the glistening bend of the river above, when the quietness of the scene was interrupted by a dark speck which suddenly came in view, around a curve about a mile above. At first I supposed it to be some animal or log floating upon the surface; but as I looked at it, I saw to my astonishment that it was a canoe coming down-stream. Several forms were visible, yet their number, at that distance, was uncertain. The bright flash of their paddles was visible in the morning sunshine, and they maintained their place near the center of the stream.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "In the stern, with a guiding oar, sat a young female."]

I scrutinized them, vainly to make out their number, until it occurred to me that it would be best to make myself invisible. The approaching canoe might contain nothing but Indians, and it was not desirable that our presence in this section should be known to any but ourselves. I slipped behind the trunk of a tree, nearer the water, yet still upon the elevated knoll, which entirely concealed my body from sight.

From this point I watched the approach of the canoe with interest.

Soon it came nigh enough to enable me to distinguish the forms within it. There were two Indian warriors seated each with a paddle in his hand, but not using them, except to keep the canoe in the channel, and in the stern, with a guiding oar, sat a young female. I supposed her a squaw, belonging to the same tribe with her companions, and scrutinized her as closely as my position would permit. She wore a beautiful head-dress, gayly ornamented with stained porcupine quills and beads, and a brilliant crimson shawl enveloped her slight form.

The savages maintained their places as motionless as statues, their gaze apparently resting upon the stream behind them; while that of the female was fixed upon the stream in front, and her whole attention absorbed in directing her canoe.

I know not whether the inmates discovered me before I concealed myself, but I fancied I detected a glance of the Indians at my hiding-place, as they floated slowly by, and some cause led the female, when directly opposite, and but a few hundred feet distant, to turn her face toward me. Judge of my astonishment, at perceiving that she was not an Indian--but a white woman! Her appearance, as she turned her gaze directly upon the spot where I was standing, I can never forget. She was so close at hand, and my view so perfect in the clear sunlight, that I saw every feature. The pale white face, surrounded by dark, luxuriant hair falling upon the shoulders, the dark eyes shaded by long inky lashes, and the mute, untranslatable look, haunted me for many a night after. She merely glanced toward me, and slowly floated past.

Dropping upon my hands and knees, I crept hastily from the knoll into the undergrowth below, and made my way hurriedly but noiselessly to the stream. I could not have been over a minute in so doing, but when I reached the water, and peered through the bushes, not a trace of the canoe was visible. I looked closely into each sh.o.r.e, up and down the stream, everywhere that I could look, but could not detect the slightest ripple or movement to account for this mysterious disappearance. For over an hour I waited in the hope that the canoe would reappear, but I saw nothing more of it.

CHAPTER V.

CONVERSATIONS AND PLANS.

The disappearance of the canoe, although singular in itself, had nothing supernatural about it. The shrubbery, which overhung the water on either sh.o.r.e, offered a secure and impenetrable hiding-place, and a few dexterous, vigorous strokes of the paddles were all that was needed to send it beneath their shadows. That this had been done, was plainly evident. Yet why had it been done? What motive was there for concealment? And why, if apprehensive of danger, had the Indians waited till they were in its vicinity?

These and numerous questions, I asked myself, as I carefully retraced my steps down-stream again. The whole proceeding was mysterious to me.

I had, doubtless, exposed myself while watching the canoe and its occupants, and thus betrayed to an enemy our presence in their country. What would result from this, I could not conjecture, and determined to make everything known to the trapper. But then I felt somewhat fearful of this. He would, doubtless, be incensed at my imprudent thoughtlessness, which might compel him to leave a country offering such inducements to the trapper and fur-trade; and I argued it was not certain that I had really been seen by the Indians in question. If they meditated hostility, Biddon would be warned soon enough for all purposes--and so I decided to keep my own secret for the present.

But the question which occupied my thoughts, almost to the exclusion of everything else, was the ident.i.ty of the female in the canoe. What could bring a white maiden to these wild regions of the northwest?

What meant her appearance in the canoe with two savage Indian warriors? What if she was the child which Biddon had referred to, as being captured upon the night of the ma.s.sacre? This thought intensified the interest I already felt in her. I believed _she_ had seen me; and her silent look toward the sh.o.r.e had something more than curiosity in it. I imagined there was a mute, eloquent appeal in those dark eyes.

Still ruminating upon this all-absorbing theme, I reached the tree, and, stooping upon my hands and knees, crawled within it. The movement had well-nigh cost me my life. As my head entered, I encountered the alarmed visages of Nat and Biddon--the latter with his knife drawn, and just preparing to spring upon me.

"You liked to got rubbed out that time!" he exclaimed, replacing his weapon. "What made you forgit the sign?"

"It must have been because it did not occur to me," I laughed; "I have had no occasion to use it before, and forgot it altogether; but I will remember it, you may be a.s.sured, in future."

"You'd better, for I was just going to shoot, too," added Nat, rising to his feet, and then seating himself again.

"You shoot!" repeated Biddon, contemptuously, "You're shooter ain't loaded!"

"I forgot that. I wonder if I couldn't load it, say?" he indignantly demanded.

"Yes, in course, if the reds waited fur yer."

Nat made no reply to this, except that of instantly proceeding to load his piece. As it was near noon, the meal was prepared--this time from the beaver's body. The hair was singed off from a piece, which was then cooked in the usual manner. This, although very palatable, was not equal to the tail of the animal, the meat being more tough and oily.

Shortly after, the trapper departed for the purpose of visiting his traps, and setting new ones. When alone with Nat, I determined to impart to him my morning's experience.

"Nat, I have seen Indians," I remarked, in a quiet tone.