The Dog Crusoe and his Master Part 5

"My son," said Mrs Varley, kissing d.i.c.k's cheek as he resumed his seat, "put this in the little pocket I made for it in your hunting shirt."

She handed him a small pocket Bible.

"Dear mother," he said, as he placed the book carefully within the breast of his coat, "the Red-skin that takes that from me must take my scalp first. But don't fear for me. You've often said the Lord would protect me. So He will, mother, for sure it's an errand o' peace!"

"Ay, that's it, that's it," murmured the widow in a half-soliloquy.

d.i.c.k Varley spent that night in converse with his mother, and next morning at daybreak he was at the place of meeting mounted on his st.u.r.dy little horse, with the "silver rifle" on his shoulder, and Crusoe by his side.

"That's right, lad, that's right. Nothin' like keepin' yer time," said Joe, as he led out a pack-horse from the gate of the block-house, while his own charger was held ready saddled by a man named Daniel Brand, who had been appointed to the charge of the block-house in his absence.

"Where's Henri?--oh! here he comes," exclaimed d.i.c.k, as the hunter referred to came thundering up the slope at a charge, on a horse that resembled its rider in size, and not a little in clumsiness of appearance.

"Ah! mes boy. Him is a goot one to go," cried Henri, remarking d.i.c.k's smile as he pulled up. "No hoss on de plain can beat dis one, surement."

"Now then, Henri, lend a hand to fix this pack, we've no time to palaver."

By this time they were joined by several of the soldiers and a few hunters who had come to see them start.

"Remember, Joe," cried one, "if you don't come back in three months we'll all come out in a band to seek you."

"If we don't come back in less than that time, what's left o' us won't be worth seekin' for," said Joe, tightening the girth of his saddle.

"Put a bit in yer own mouth, Henri," cried another, as the Canadian arranged his steed's bridle; "ye'll need it more than yer horse when ye git 'mong the red reptiles."

"Vraiment, if mon mout' needs one bit yours will need one padlock."

"Now, lads, mount!" cried Joe Blunt as he vaulted into the saddle.

d.i.c.k Varley sprang lightly on his horse, and Henri made a rush at his steed and hurled his huge frame across its back with a violence that _ought_ to have brought it to the ground; but the tall, raw-boned, broad-chested roan was accustomed to the eccentricities of its master, and stood the shock bravely. Being appointed to lead the pack-horse, Henri seized its halter; then the three cavaliers shook their reins, and, waving their hands to their comrades, they sprang into the woods at full gallop, and laid their course for the "far west."

For some time they galloped side by side in silence, each occupied with his own thoughts, Crusoe keeping close beside his master's horse. The two elder hunters evidently ruminated on the object of their mission and the prospects of success, for their countenances were grave and their eyes cast on the ground. d.i.c.k Varley, too, thought upon the Red-men, but his musings were deeply tinged with the bright hues of a _first_ adventure. The mountains, the plains, the Indians, the bears, the buffaloes, and a thousand other objects, danced wildly before his mind's eye, and his blood careered through his veins and flushed his forehead as he thought of what he should see and do, and felt the elastic vigour of youth respond in sympathy to the light spring of his active little steed. He was a lover of nature, too, and his flashing eyes glanced observantly from side to side as they swept along,--sometimes through glades of forest trees; sometimes through belts of more open ground and shrubbery; anon by the margin of a stream, or along the sh.o.r.es of a little lake, and often over short stretches of flowering prairie-land,-- while the firm, elastic turf sent up a m.u.f.fled sound from the tramp of their mettlesome chargers. It was a scene of wild, luxuriant beauty, that might almost (one could fancy) have drawn involuntary homage to its bountiful Creator from the lips even of an infidel.

After a time Joe Blunt reined up, and they proceeded at an easy ambling pace. Joe and his friend Henri were so used to these beautiful scenes that they had long ceased to be _enthusiastically_ affected by them, though they never ceased to delight in them.

"I hope," said Joe, "that them sodgers 'll go their ways soon. I've no notion o' them chaps when they're left at a place wi' nothin' to do but whittle sticks."

"Why, Joe!" exclaimed d.i.c.k Varley in a tone of surprise, "I thought you were admirin' the beautiful face o' nature all this time, and yer only thinkin' about the sodgers. Now, that's strange!"

"Not so strange after all, lad," answered Joe. "When a man's used to a thing he gits to admire an' enjoy it without speakin' much about it.

But it _is_ true, boy, that mankind gits in coorse o' time to think little o' the blissins he's used to."

"Oui, c'est _vrai_!" murmured Henri emphatically.

"Well, Joe Blunt, it may be so; but I'm thankful _I'm_ not used to this sort o' thing yet," exclaimed Varley. "Let's have another gallop--so ho! come along, Crusoe!" shouted the youth, as he shook his reins, and flew over a long stretch of prairie on which at that moment they entered.

Joe smiled as he followed his enthusiastic companion, but after a short run he pulled up.

"Hold on, youngster," he cried, "ye must larn to do as yer bid, lad; it's trouble enough to be among wild Injuns and wild buffaloes, as I hope soon to be, without havin' wild comrades to look after."

d.i.c.k laughed and reined in his panting horse. "I'll be as obedient as Crusoe," he said, "and no one can beat him."

"Besides," continued Joe, "the horses won't travel far if we begin by runnin' all the wind out o' them."

"Wah!" exclaimed Henri, as the led horse became restive; "I think we must give to him de pack-hoss for to lead, eh!"

"Not a bad notion, Henri. We'll make that the penalty of runnin' off again; so look out, Master d.i.c.k."

"I'm down," replied d.i.c.k with a modest air, "obedient as a baby, and won't run off again--till--the next time. By the way, Joe, how many days' provisions did ye bring?"

"Two. That's 'nough to carry us to the Great Prairie, which is three weeks distant from this; our own good rifles must make up the difference, and keep us when we git there."

"And s'pose we neither find deer nor buffalo," suggested d.i.c.k.

"I s'pose we'll have to starve."

"Dat is c.u.mfer'able to tink upon," remarked Henri.

"More comfortable to think o' than to undergo," said d.i.c.k, "but I s'pose there's little chance o' that."

"Well, not much," replied Joe Blunt, patting his horse's neck; "but d'ye see, lad, ye niver can count for sartin on anythin'. The deer and buffalo ought to be thick in them plains at this time--and when the buffalo _are_ thick they covers the plains till ye can hardly see the end o' them; but, ye see, sometimes the rascally Red-skins takes it into their heads to burn the prairies, and sometimes ye find the place that should ha' bin black wi' buffalo, black as a coal wi' fire for miles an'

miles on end. At other times the Red-skins go huntin' in 'ticlar places, and sweeps them clean o' every hoof that don't git away.

Sometimes, too, the animals seems to take a scunner at a place and keeps out o' the way. But one way or another men gin'rally manage to scramble through."

"Look yonder, Joe," exclaimed d.i.c.k, pointing to the summit of a distant ridge, where a small black object was seen moving against the sky, "that's a deer, ain't it?"

Joe shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed earnestly at the object in question. "Yer right, boy; and by good luck we've got the wind of him.

Cut in an' take your chance now. There's a long strip o' wood as'll let ye git close to him."

Before the sentence was well finished, d.i.c.k and Crusoe were off at full gallop. For a few hundred yards they coursed along the bottom of a hollow; then turning to the right they entered the strip of wood, and in a few minutes gained the edge of it. Here d.i.c.k dismounted.

"You can't help me here, Crusoe. Stay where you are, pup, and hold my horse."

Crusoe seized the end of the line, which was fastened to the horse's nose, in his mouth, and lay down on a hillock of moss, submissively placing his chin on his fore-paws, and watching his master as he stepped noiselessly through the wood. In a few minutes d.i.c.k emerged from among the trees, and, creeping from bush to bush, succeeded in getting to within six hundred yards of the deer, which was a beautiful little antelope. Beyond the bush behind which he now crouched all was bare open ground, without a shrub or hillock large enough to conceal the hunter. There was a slight undulation in the ground, however, which enabled him to advance about fifty yards further, by means of lying down quite flat and working himself forward like a serpent. Further than this he could not move without being seen by the antelope, which browsed on the ridge before him in fancied security. The distance was too great even for a long shot, but d.i.c.k knew of a weak point in this little creature's nature which enabled him to accomplish his purpose--a weak point which it shares in common with animals of a higher order,--namely, curiosity.

The little antelope of the North American prairies is intensely curious about everything that it does not quite understand, and will not rest satisfied until it has endeavoured to clear up the mystery. Availing himself of this propensity, d.i.c.k did what both Indians and hunters are accustomed to do on these occasions,--he put a piece of rag on the end of his ramrod, and, keeping his person concealed and perfectly still, waved this miniature flag in the air. The antelope noticed it at once, and, p.r.i.c.king up its ears, began to advance, timidly and slowly, step by step, to see what remarkable phenomenon it could be. In a few seconds the flag was lowered, a sharp crack followed, and the antelope fell dead upon the plain.

"Ha, boy! that's a good supper, anyhow," cried Joe, as he galloped up and dismounted.

"Goot! dat is better nor dried meat," added Henri. "Give him to me; I will put him on my hoss, vich is strongar dan yourn. But ver is your hoss?"

"He'll be here in a minute," replied d.i.c.k, putting his fingers to his mouth and giving forth a shrill whistle.

The instant Crusoe heard the sound he made a savage and apparently uncalled-for dash at the horse's heels. This wild act, so contrary to the dog's gentle nature, was a mere piece of acting. He knew that the horse would not advance without getting a fright, so he gave him one in this way which sent him off at a gallop. Crusoe followed close at his heels, so as to bring the line alongside of the nag's body, and thereby prevent its getting entangled; but despite his best efforts the horse got on one side of a tree and he on the other, so he wisely let go his hold of the line, and waited till more open ground enabled him to catch it again. Then he hung heavily back, gradually checked the horse's speed, and finally trotted him up to his master's side.

"'Tis a cliver cur, good sooth," exclaimed Joe Blunt in surprise.

"Ah, Joe! you haven't seen much of Crusoe yet. He's as good as a man any day. I've done little else but train him for two years gone by, and he can do most anything but shoot--he can't handle the rifle nohow."