The Scalp Hunters Part 36

"Let me see," he added; and, stepping up to the Navajo, he drew another arrow from the quiver that still remained slung upon the Indian's back.

After subjecting the blade to a similar test, he exclaimed--

"I told you so. Look at this, green as a plantain! He fired two: where is the other? Comrades, help me to find it. Such a tell-tale as that must not be left behind us."

Several of the men leaped from their horses, and searched for the shaft that had been shot first. I pointed out the direction and probable distance as near as I could, and in a few moments it was picked up.

El Sol took it, and poured a few drops of his liquid on the blade. It turned green like the other.

"You may thank your saints, Monsieur Haller," said the Coco, "it was not this one made that hole in your arm, else it would have taken all the skill of Doctor Reichter and myself to have saved you. But what's this?

Another wound! Ha! He touched you as he made his right point. Let me look at it."

"I think it is only a scratch."

"This is a strange climate, Monsieur Haller. I have seen scratches become mortal wounds when not sufficiently valued. Luna! Some cotton, sis! I shall endeavour to dress yours so that you need not fear that result. You deserve that much at my hands. But for you, sir, he would have escaped me."

"But for you, sir, he would have killed me."

"Well," replied the Coco, with a smile, "it is possible you would not have come off so well. Your weapon played you false. It is hardly just to expect a man to parry a lance-point with a clubbed rifle, though it was beautifully done. I do not wonder that you pulled trigger in the second joust. I intended doing so myself, had the la.s.so failed me again. But we are in luck both ways. You must sling this arm for a day or two. Luna! that scarf of yours."

"No!" said I, as the girl proceeded to unfasten a beautiful scarf which she wore around her waist; "you shall not: I will find something else."

"Here, mister; if this will do," interposed the young trapper Garey, "you are heartily welcome to it."

As Garey said this, he pulled a coloured handkerchief out of the breast of his hunting-shirt, and held it forth.

"You are very kind; thank you!" I replied, although I knew on whose account the kerchief was given; "you will be pleased to accept this in return." And I offered him one of my small revolvers--a weapon that, at that time and in that place, was worth its weight in pearls.

The mountain man knew this, and very gratefully accepted the proffered gift; but much as he might have prized it, I saw that he was still more gratified with a simple smile that he received from another quarter, and I felt certain that the scarf would soon change owners, at any rate.

I watched the countenance of El Sol to see if he had noticed or approved of this little by-play. I could perceive no unusual emotion upon it.

He was busy with my wounds, which he dressed in a manner that would have done credit to a member of the R.C.S.

"Now," said he, when he had finished, "you will be ready for as much more fighting in a couple of days at the furthest. You have a bad bridle-arm, Monsieur Haller, but the best horse I ever saw. I do not wonder at your refusing to sell him."

Most of the conversation had been carried on in English; and it was spoken by the Coco chief with an accent and emphasis, to my ear, as good as I had ever heard. He spoke French, too, like a Parisian; and it was in this language that he usually conversed with Seguin. I wondered at all this.

The men had remounted, with the intention of returning to the camp.

Extreme hunger was now prompting us, and we commenced riding back to partake of the repast so unceremoniously interrupted.

At a short distance from the camp we dismounted, and, picketing our horses upon the gra.s.s, walked forward to search for the stray steaks and ribs we had lately seen in plenty. A new chagrin awaited us; not a morsel of flesh remained! The coyotes had taken advantage of our absence, and we could see nothing around us but naked bones. The thighs and ribs of the buffaloes had been polished as if sc.r.a.ped with a knife.

Even the hideous carca.s.s of the Digger had become a shining skeleton!

"Wagh!" exclaimed one of the hunters; "wolf now or nothing: hyar goes!"

and the man levelled his rifle.

"Hold!" exclaimed Seguin, seeing the act. "Are you mad, sir?"

"I reckon not, capt'n," replied the hunter, doggedly bringing down his piece. "We must eat, I s'pose. I see nothin' but them about; an' how are we goin' to get them 'ithout shootin'?"

Seguin made no reply, except by pointing to the bow which El Sol was making ready.

"Eh-ho!" added the hunter; "yer right, capt'n. I asks pardon. I had forgot that piece o' bone."

The Coco took an arrow from the quiver, and tried the head with the a.s.saying liquid. It proved to be a hunting-shaft; and, adjusting it to the string, he sent it through the body of a white wolf, killing it instantly. He took up the shaft again, and wiping the feather, shot another, and another, until the bodies of five or six of these animals lay stretched upon the ground.

"Kill a coyote when ye're about it," shouted one of the hunters; "gentlemen like we oughter have leastwise two courses to our dinner."

The men laughed at this rough sally; and El Sol, smiling, again picked up the arrow, and sent it whizzing through the body of one of the coyotes.

"I think that will be enough for one meal, at all events," said El Sol, recovering the arrow, and putting it back into the quiver.

"Ay!" replied the wit; "if we wants more we kin go back to the larder agin. It's a kind o' meat that eats better fresh, anyhow."

"Well, it diz, hoss. Wagh! I'm in for a griskin o' the white. Hyar goes!"

The hunters, laughing at the humour of their comrades, drew their shining knives, and set about skinning the wolves. The adroitness with which this operation was performed showed that it was by no means new to them.

In a short time the animals were stripped of their hides and quarters; and each man, taking his quarter, commenced roasting it over the fire.

"Fellers! what d'ye call this anyhow? Beef or mutton?" asked one, as they began to eat.

"Wolf-mutton, I reckin," was the reply.

"It's dog-gone good eatin', I say; peels off as tender as squ'll."

"It's some'ut like goat, ain't it?"

"Mine tastes more like dog to me."

"It ain't bad at all; better than poor bull any day."

"I'd like it a heap better if I war sure the thing hadn't been up to yon varmint on the rocks." And the man who said this pointed to the skeleton of the Digger.

The idea was horrible, and under other circ.u.mstances would have acted as a sufficient emetic.

"Wagh!" exclaimed a hunter; "ye've most taken away my stammuck. I was a-goin' to try the coyoat afore ye spoke. I won't now, for I seed them smellin' about him afore we rid off."

"I say, old case, you don't mind it, do ye?"

This was addressed to Rube, who was busy on his rib and made no reply.

"He? not he," said another, answering for him. "Rube's ate a heap o'

queery t.i.t-bits in his time. Hain't ye, Rube?"

"Ay, an' afore yur be as long in the mountains as this child, 'ee'll be glad to get yur teeth over wuss chawin's than wolf-meat; see if 'ee don't, young fellur."

"Man-meat, I reckin?"

"Ay, that's what Rube means."