The Silver Canyon Part 6

"What is it?" he cried; "what is wrong?" and as he spoke the lock of his double rifle gave forth two ominous clicks twice over.

"They have come round while we have been away," whispered Bart hoa.r.s.ely.

"They? Who? Our men?"

"No," panted Bart; "the camp is surrounded by Indians."

CHAPTER SIX.

A SURGICAL OPERATION.

Dr Lascelles' first movement was to run forward to the help of his child, Bart being close behind.

Then with the knowledge that where there is terrible odds against which to fight, guile and skill are necessary, he paused for a moment, with the intention of trying to find cover from whence he could make deadly use of his rifle. But with the knowledge that Maude must be in the hands of the Indians, whose savage nature he too well knew, his fatherly instinct admitted of no pause for strategy, and dashing forward, he ran swiftly towards the waggon, with Bart close upon his heels.

The full extent of their peril was at once apparent, no less than twelve mounted Indians being at the head of the little valley in a group, every man in full war-paint, and with his rifle across his knees as he sat upon his st.u.r.dy Indian pony.

Facing them were Maude, Joses, Juan, and the other two men, who had apparently been taken by surprise, and who, rifle in hand, seemed to be parleying with the enemy.

The sight of the reinforcement in the shape of Bart, and Dr Lascelles made the Indians utter a loud "Ugh!" and for a moment they seemed disposed to a.s.sume the offensive, but to Bart's surprise they only urged their ponies forward a few yards, and then stopped.

"Get behind the waggon, quick, my child," panted the Doctor, as Bart rushed up to his old companion's side.

"They came down upon us all at once, master," said Joses. "They didn't come along the trail."

"Show a bold front," exclaimed the Doctor; "we may beat them off."

To his surprise, however, the Indians did not seem to mean fighting, one of them, who appeared to be the chief, riding forward a few yards, and saying something in his own language.

"What does he say?" said the Doctor, impatiently.

"I can't make him out," replied Joses. "His is a strange tongue to me."

"He is hurt," exclaimed Bart. "He is wounded in the arm. I think he is asking for something."

It certainly had that appearance, for the Indian was holding rifle and reins in his left hand, while the right arm hung helplessly by his side.

It was like weakening his own little force to do such a thing, knowing as he did how treacherous the Indian could be, but this was no time for hesitating, and as it seemed to be as Bart had intimated, the Doctor risked this being a manoeuvre on the part of the Indian chief, and holding his rifle ready, he stepped boldly forward to where the dusky warrior sat calm and motionless upon his horse.

Upon going close up there was no longer any room for doubt. The chief's arm was roughly bandaged, and the coa.r.s.e cloth seemed to be eating into the terribly swollen flesh.

That was enough. All the Doctor's old instincts came at once to the front, and he took the injured limb in his hand.

He must have caused the Indian intense pain, but the fine bronzed-looking fellow, who had features of a keen aquiline type, did not move a muscle, while, as the Doctor laid his rifle up against a rock, the little mounted band uttered in chorus a sort of grunt of approval.

"It is peace, Bart," said the Doctor. "Maude, my child, get a bowl of clean water, towels, and some bandages. Bart, get out my surgical case."

As he spoke, he motioned to the chief to dismount, which he did, throwing himself lightly from his pony, not, as a European would, on the left side of the horse, but on the right, the well-trained animal standing motionless, and bending down its head to crop the nearest herbage.

"Throw a blanket down upon that sage-brush, Joses," continued the Doctor; and this being done, the latter pointed to it, making signs that the chief should sit down.

He did not stir for a few moments, but gazed searchingly round at the group, till he saw Maude come forward with a tin bowl of clean water and the bandages, followed by Bart, who had in his hand a little surgical case. Then he took a few steps forward, and seated himself, laying his rifle down amongst the short shrubby growth, while Juan, Sam, and Harry on the one side, the mounted Indians upon the other, looked curiously on.

Once there was a low murmur among the latter, as the Doctor drew a keen, long knife from its sheath at his belt; but the chief did not wince, and all were once more still.

"He has been badly hurt in a fight," said the Doctor, "and the rough surgery of his tribe or his medicine-man does not act."

"That's it, master," said Joses, who was standing close by with rifle ready in case of treachery. "His medicine-man couldn't tackle that, and they think all white men are good doctors. It means peace, master."

He pointed behind the Doctor as he spoke, and it was plain enough that at all events for the present the Indians meant no harm, for two trotted back, one to turn up a narrow rift that the little exploring party had pa.s.sed unnoticed in the night, the other to go right on towards the entrance of the rough Horse-shoe.

"That means scouting, does it not?" said Bart.

"I think so," replied the Doctor. "Yes; these Indians are friendly, but we must be on our guard. Don't show that we are suspicious though.

Help me as I dress this arm. Maude, my child, you had better go into the waggon."

"I am not afraid, father," she said, quietly.

"Stay, then," he said. "You can be of use, perhaps."

He spoke like this, for, in their rough frontier life, the girl had had more than one experience of surgery. Men had been wounded in fights with the Indians; others had suffered from falls and tramplings from horses, while on more than one occasion the Doctor had had to deal with terrible injuries, the results of gorings from fierce bulls. For it is a strange but well-known fact in those parts, that the domestic cattle that run wild from the various corrals or enclosures, and take to the plains, are ten times more dangerous than the fiercest bison or buffalo, as they are commonly called, that roam the wilds.

Meanwhile the rest of the band leaped lightly down from their ponies, and paying not the slightest heed to the white party, proceeded to gather wood and brush to make themselves a fire, some unpacking buffalo meat, and one bringing forward a portion of a p.r.o.ng-horn antelope.

The Doctor was now busily examining his patient's arm, cutting away the rough bandages, and laying bare a terrible injury.

He was not long in seeing its extent, and he knew that if some necessary steps were not taken at once, mortification of the limb would set in, and the result would be death.

The Indian's eyes glittered as he keenly watched the Doctor's face. He evidently knew the worst, and it was this which had made him seek white help, though of course he was not aware how fortunate he had been in his haphazard choice. He must have been suffering intense pain, but not a nerve quivered, not a muscle moved, while, deeply interested, Joses came closer, rested his arms upon the top of his rifle, and looked down.

"Why, he's got an arrow run right up his arm all along by the bone, master," exclaimed the frontier man; "and he has been trying to pull it out, and it's broken in."

"Right, Joses," said the Doctor, quietly; "and worse than that, the head of the arrow is fixed in the bone."

"Ah, I couldn't tell that," said Joses, coolly.

"I wish I could speak his dialect," continued the Doctor. "I shall have to operate severely if his arm is to be saved, and I don't want him or his men to pay me my fee with a crack from a tomahawk."

"Don't you be afraid of that, master. He won't wince, nor say a word.

You may do what you like with him. Injuns is a bad lot, but they've got wonderful pluck over pain."

"This fellow has, at all events," said the Doctor. "Maude, my child, I think you had better go."

"If you wish it, father, I will," she replied simply; "but I could help you, and I should not be in the least afraid."

"Good," said the Doctor, laconically, as he lowered the injured arm after bathing it free from the macerated leaves and bark with which it had been bound up. Then with the Indian's glittering eyes following every movement, he took from his leather case of surgical instruments, all still wonderfully bright and kept in a most perfect state, a curious-looking pair of forceps with rough handles, and a couple of short-bladed, very keen knives.