The Fiery Totem Part 7

They looked, and as they looked they saw the linen move, as if something inside were struggling to be free, and at the same time they heard a sound like the sudden springing of an old-time policeman's rattle.

"Rattlesnakes!" exclaimed Arnold under his breath.

Thunder-maker laughed when he saw that the sound had been recognised.

"Come! Come, my children!" he cried, as he turned his face upwards.

"Come, my little son--come, my little daughter!"

Then he shook the knot of the bundle, and out from the aperture crept two grey-green bodies--a pair of twisting, writhing somethings that caused the onlookers to shudder and the Medicine Man to laugh, as he repeated carelessly--

"Come, my little papooses! You will speak great medicine in the ears of Thunder-maker!"

Slowly the serpents came from their covering. One remained coiled on the raised wrists, the other--still sounding the ominous rattle--moved slowly downwards till it rested on the man's shoulder. Then Thunder-maker inclined his head, as if listening to a whisper.

Afterwards his face lit up with understanding.

"Huh!" he exclaimed. "Did not the spirit of Thunder-maker speak true?

Come, my little papoose! You shall show for whom the fiery totem called."

Turning his head so as to look along his shoulder, the Indian suddenly grabbed the writhing reptile with his teeth, after which (holding the other serpent with his right hand) he commenced dancing until he had cleared an open circular s.p.a.ce, of which the Indians and the white men formed the border.

Suddenly he sprang to the middle and tossed the snake to the ground, while he uttered a wild shriek.

Once on the earth, the snake glided swiftly in several directions, while all watched the creature with tense excitement. Then for a second it seemed to pause with its head in the direction of the Englishmen. At the same moment the Indian gave a cry of triumph, tucked the one snake into a fold of his robe and bent down, making pa.s.ses with his hands above the serpent on the ground. And as his hands moved so the rattlesnake gradually straightened out its body till it lay stiff and straight as a piece of wood.

Thunder-maker paused. Then he rose up slowly and looked with triumph straight into the chief's face.

"My children say that the time has come to take the cloud from the Dacotah. My papooses show _who_ answer call of fiery totem!"

CHAPTER VII

THE FRIEND IN NEED

Even considering the serious nature of their quest and the plight they were in, it was not possible for the boys to refrain from laughing when they recognised Britain's national song as caricatured by the singer.

But they had sufficient wisdom to control most of their amus.e.m.e.nt to "inward laughing." It is not always safe in the backwoods to announce your presence too suddenly where strangers are concerned--especially strangers who are not of the white skin.

"That's a rum sort of music to come upon a hundred miles from nowhere,"

remarked Bob, with a grin, to his chum.

"Let's hope that it comes from a throat that has something of civilisation about it," said Alf.

"It doesn't sound quite like a white man. That 'ne-vaire' is more French accent than English--probably a half-breed."

"What do you think we ought to do?"

"Investigate. We've got no choice. We're lost; that's certain enough.

What's more, there seems to be very little chance of finding our own trail back to the camp."

"That's true enough," Alf a.s.sented. "But suppose we come upon a camp of half-breeds, as you suggested? I've heard that they're not the best of friends to white people in out-of-the-way places."

Arnold nodded in agreement.

"I dare say that's true. But, at the same time, most yarns of the kind have usually got large bits of ornamental stuff stuck round the facts.

We'll have to take our chance of falling in with friends or foes."

"Right-away. If you're ready, I'm ready also," said Alf promptly. "It will be a strange thing if 'Rule Britannia' leads Britons into a mess instead of out of one."

Having thus determined what course to pursue, the two boys began to creep cautiously through the bush towards the locality from whence still proceeded the music that was being repeated with all the diligence of some one who was determined to learn his lesson thoroughly.

The night was now quite dark, but presently the chums were able to distinguish the flickering of a camp-fire at no great distance before them.

Taking every care not to betray their presence by any careless footstep, they twined a path with all the success that a professional tracker would have admired. Then, penetrating a more than usually dense portion of the bush, the young explorers found themselves right on the edge of the encampment, and the picture that they then discovered was one that was surely calculated to drive away all melancholy thoughts and feelings of fatigue, for the time being at least.

Seated on the end of a water-keg, in front of a moderate-sized "A" tent, was a man of gigantic size whose black hair stood up from his head as if he were constantly seeing ghosts, and whose equally black beard streamed down his breast like a cataract of ink. He was dressed in a blue shirt, corduroy trousers protected with cowboy "shaps," and heavy top-boots. In his hands was an accordion, at his side sat a collie dog, while in front of him, with his back to the fire--standing with his hands behind his back in the att.i.tude of a schoolboy repeating a lesson--was a tousle-headed half-breed, whom he of the black beard was addressing in encouraging tones--

"Noo then, ma callant, we'll just be having that last line ower again.

It's no' bad as an eemitation o' a cat left oot on a winter's night; but it's no' just what I call 'ceevilised'; no' just quite that--yet."

Then the accordion sounded a dismal chord suggestive of an attack of asthma, the half-breed reattacked the "ne-vaire, ne-vaire, ne-vaire" in a manner that made up in energy what it lacked in music, and the collie raised his head to add a long-drawn wail to the concert.

"That's a wee bit better," was the player's verdict at the finish. "I'm thinking we'll make a ceevilised creature oot o' you in time, Haggis."

Then the speaker turned to the dog. "As for you, Bannock, you're a bit oot o' tune at times. But it's no' that bad for a doggie. It's good to be aye trying to do our best----"

"Hear! hear!" shouted Bob, whose interested amus.e.m.e.nt had quite banished his caution.

The effect of the boy's applause was electric. The two men started. The half-breed s.n.a.t.c.hed up a gun that was leaning against a tree near by; one hand of the bearded man deposited the musical instrument upon the ground as his right picked up a handy rifle; while Bannock, the dog, crouched down with bristling hair and deep growling.

"Come oot and show yourself, whoever ye be!" commanded the master, as he raised himself to his great height, with rifle in readiness and eyes staring towards that part of the bush where the chums stood. "Come forward this instant, or I'll bore as many holes in your body as there are farthings in a pound!"

In obedience to the gentle invitation, and not in the least nervous, now that they knew who the musicians were, the boys immediately made their appearance.

"There's no need to be afraid----" began Holden rea.s.suringly, when he was interrupted by a huge guffaw of derision.

"Afraid! And what for shall Skipper Mackintosh be afraid? Unless it's mosquitoes, there's no man or beast in Canada that'll turn a hair on his hide." Then, seeing the lads as they approached into the firelight, the man immediately changed his tone of address as he also altered the threatening pose of his rifle. "What! A pair o' laddies?" he exclaimed in astonishment, and Bob replied--

"Neither of whom is particularly anxious to be riddled with a pound's worth of farthing bullets!"

But the words had barely pa.s.sed the boy's lips before the rifle had been dropped to the ground and the man had sprung forward excitedly to grab a hand of each boy in his great fists.

"Faix! but this is a fine sight for sore eyes!" he exclaimed, as he vigorously pumped the arms up and down. "I've no' seen a white face (barring a trader's, and that was ower dirty to call it 'white') this twelvemonth past. I'm right glad to see you!"

"And I guess we're jolly glad to see you," returned Alf. "It's a treat, but--speaking for myself, I really want to use my hand again. It'll be jelly in a few more seconds."

"And mine too!" laughed Bob, who could not help wincing at the vigorous form of the welcome.