The Dog Crusoe and his Master Part 12

"Ay, we must escape; at least we must try," said Joe; "but I'll make one more effort to smooth over San-it-sa-rish, an' git him to snub that villain Mahtawa."

Just as he spoke the villain in question entered the tent with a bold, haughty air, and sat down before the fire in sullen silence. For some minutes no one spoke, and Henri, who happened at the time to be examining the locks of d.i.c.k's rifle, continued to inspect them with an appearance of careless indifference that he was far from feeling.

Now, this rifle of d.i.c.k's had become a source of unceasing wonder to the Indians,--wonder which was greatly increased by the fact that no one could discharge it but himself. d.i.c.k had, during his short stay at the p.a.w.nee village, amused himself and the savages by exhibiting his marvellous powers with the "silver rifle." Since it had been won by him at the memorable match in the Mustang Valley, it had scarce ever been out of his hand, so that he had become decidedly the best shot in the settlement, could "bark" squirrels (that is, hit the bark of the branch on which a squirrel happened to be standing, and so kill it by the concussion alone), and could "drive the nail" every shot. The silver rifle, as we have said, became "great medicine" to the Red-men, when they saw it kill at a distance which the few wretched guns they had obtained from the fur-traders could not even send a spent ball to. The double shot, too, filled them with wonder and admiration; but that which they regarded with an almost supernatural feeling of curiosity was the percussion cap, which in d.i.c.k's hands always exploded, but in theirs was utterly useless!

This result was simply owing to the fact, that d.i.c.k after firing handed the rifle to the Indians without renewing the cap. So that when they loaded and attempted to fire, of course it merely snapped. When he wished again to fire, he adroitly exchanged the old cap for a new one.

He was immensely tickled by the solemn looks of the Indians at this most incomprehensible of all "medicines," and kept them for some days in ignorance of the true cause, intending to reveal it before he left. But circ.u.mstances now arose which banished all trifling thoughts from his mind.

Mahtawa raised his head suddenly, and said, pointing to the silver rifle, "Mahtawa wishes to have the two-shotted medicine gun. He will give his best horse in exchange."

"Mahtawa is liberal," answered Joe, "but the pale-faced youth cannot part with it. He has far to travel, and must shoot buffaloes by the way."

"The pale-faced youth shall have a bow and arrows to shoot the buffalo,"

rejoined the Indian.

"He cannot use the bow and arrow," answered Joe; "he has not been trained like the Red-man."

Mahtawa was silent for a few seconds, and his dark brows frowned more heavily than ever over his eyes.

"The Pale-faces are too bold," he exclaimed, working himself into a pa.s.sion; "they are in the power of Mahtawa. If they will not give the gun he will take it."

He sprang suddenly to his feet as he spoke, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the rifle from Henri's hand.

Henri, being ignorant of the language, had not been able to understand the foregoing conversation, although he saw well enough that it was not an agreeable one but no sooner did he find himself thus rudely and unexpectedly deprived of the rifle, than he jumped up, wrenched it in a twinkling from the Indian's grasp, and hurled him violently out of the tent.

In a moment Mahtawa drew his knife, uttered a savage yell, and sprang on the reckless hunter, who, however, caught his wrist, and held it as if in a vice. The yell brought a dozen warriors instantly to the spot, and before d.i.c.k had time to recover from his astonishment, Henri was surrounded and pinioned despite his herculean struggles.

Before d.i.c.k could move, Joe Blunt grasped his arm, and whispered quickly, "Don't rise! You can't help him! They daren't kill him till San-it-sa-rish agrees."

Though much surprised, d.i.c.k obeyed, but it required all his efforts, both of voice and hand, to control Crusoe, whose mind was much too honest and straightforward to understand such subtle pieces of diplomacy, and who strove to rush to the rescue of his ill-used friend.

When the tumult had partly subsided, Joe Blunt rose and said--"Have the p.a.w.nee braves turned traitors that they draw the knife against those who have smoked with them the pipe of peace and eaten their maize? The Pale-faces are three; the p.a.w.nees are thousands. If evil has been done, let it be laid before the chief. Mahtawa wishes to have the medicine gun. Although we said No, we could not part with it, he tried to take it by force. Are we to go back to the great chief of the Pale-faces, and say that the p.a.w.nees are thieves? Are the Pale-faces henceforth to tell their children when they steal, `That is bad; that is like the p.a.w.nee?' No! this must not be. The rifle shall be restored, and we will forget this disagreement. Is it not so?"

There was an evident disposition on the part of many of the Indians, with whom Mahtawa was no favourite, to applaud this speech; but the wily chief sprang forward, and, with flashing eye, sought to turn the tables.

"The Pale-face speaks with soft words, but his heart is false. Is he not going to make peace with the enemies of the p.a.w.nee? Is he not going to take goods to them, and make them gifts and promises? The Pale-faces are spies. They come to see the weakness of the p.a.w.nee camp, but they have found that it is strong. Shall we suffer the false-hearts to escape? Shall they live? No! we will hang their scalps in our wigwams, for they have _struck a chief_ and we will keep all their goods for our squaws--wah!"

This allusion to keeping all the goods had more effect on the minds of the vacillating savages than the chiefs eloquence. But a new turn was given to their thoughts by Joe Blunt remarking in a quiet, almost contemptuous tone--

"Mahtawa is not the _great_ chief."

"True, true," they cried, and immediately hurried to the tent of San-it-sa-rish.

Once again this chief stood between the hunters and the savages, who wanted but a signal to fall on them. There was a long palaver, which ended in Henri being set at liberty, and the rifle being restored.

That evening, as the three friends sat beside their fire eating their supper of boiled maize and buffalo meat, they laughed and talked as carelessly as ever; but the gaiety was a.s.sumed, for they were at the time planning their escape from a tribe which, they foresaw, would not long refrain from carrying out their wishes, and robbing, perhaps murdering them.

"Ye see," said Joe with a perplexed air, while he drew a piece of live charcoal from the fire with his fingers and lighted his pipe,--"ye see, there's more difficulties in the way o' gettin' off than ye think--"

"Oh! nivare mind de difficulties," interrupted Henri, whose wrath at the treatment he had received had not yet cooled down. "Ve must jump on de best horses ve can git hold, shake our fist at de red reptiles, and go away fast as ve can. De best hoss _must_ vin de race."

Joe shook his head. "A hundred arrows would be in our backs before we got twenty yards from the camp. Besides, we can't tell which are the best horses. Our own are the best in my 'pinion, but how are we to git 'em?"

"I know who has charge o' them," said d.i.c.k; "I saw them grazing near the tent o' that poor squaw whose baby was saved by Crusoe. Either her husband looks after them or some neighbours."

"That's well," said Joe. "That's one o' my difficulties gone."

"What are the others?"

"Well, d'ye see, they're troublesome. We can't git the horses out o'

camp without bein' seen, for the red rascals would see what we were at in a jiffy. Then, if we do git 'em out, we can't go off without our bales, an' we needn't think to take 'em from under the nose o' the chief and his squaws without bein' axed questions. To go off without them would niver do at all."

"Joe," said d.i.c.k, earnestly, "I've hit on a plan."

"Have ye, d.i.c.k? what is't?"

"Come and I'll let ye see," answered d.i.c.k, rising hastily and quitting the tent, followed by his comrades and his faithful dog.

It may be as well to remark here, that no restraint whatever had yet been put on the movements of our hunters as long as they kept to their legs, for it was well-known that any attempt by men on foot to escape from mounted Indians on the plains would be hopeless. Moreover, the savages thought that as long as there was a prospect of their being allowed to depart peaceably with their goods, they would not be so mad as to fly from the camp, and, by so doing, risk their lives and declare war with their entertainers. They had, therefore, been permitted to wander unchecked, as yet, far beyond the outskirts of the camp, and amuse themselves in paddling about the lake in the small Indian canoes and shooting wild-fowl.

d.i.c.k now led the way through the labyrinths of tents in the direction of the lake, and they talked and laughed loudly, and whistled to Crusoe as they went, in order to prevent their purpose being suspected. For the purpose of further disarming suspicion they went without their rifles.

d.i.c.k explained his plan by the way, and it was at once warmly approved of by his comrades.

On reaching the lake they launched a small canoe, into which Crusoe was ordered to jump; then, embarking, they paddled swiftly to the opposite sh.o.r.e, singing a canoe song as they dipped their paddles in the moonlit waters of the lake. Arrived at the other side, they hauled the canoe up and hurried through the thin belt of wood and willows that intervened between the lake and the prairie. Here they paused.

"Is that the bluff, Joe?"

"No, d.i.c.k, that's too near. T'other one'll be best. Far away to the right. It's a little one, and there's others near it. The sharp eyes o' the Red-skins won't be so likely to be prowlin' there."

"Come on, then; but we'll have to take down by the lake first."

In a few minutes the hunters were threading their way through the outskirts of the wood at a rapid trot, in the opposite direction from the bluff, or wooded knoll, which they wished to reach. This they did lest prying eyes should have followed them. In a quarter of an hour they turned at right angles to their track, and struck straight out into the prairie, and after a long run they edged round and came in upon the bluff from behind. It was merely a collection of stunted but thick-growing willows.

Forcing their way into the centre of this they began to examine it.

"It'll do," said Joe.

"De very ting," remarked Henri.

"Come here, Crusoe."

Crusoe bounded to his master's side, and looked up in his face.

"Look at this place, pup; smell it well."

Crusoe instantly set off all round among the willows, in and out, snuffing everywhere, and whining with excitement.

"Come here, good pup; that will do. Now, lads, we'll go back." So saying, d.i.c.k and his friends left the bluff and retraced their steps to the camp. Before they had gone far, however, Joe halted, and said--