The Wild Man of the West Part 34

They had nothing new to tell. They had met together by accident, as the others had done, on nearing the fort, and would have been in sooner, had not Big Waller been obliged to take charge of poor Bertram, who, owing to the suddenness and violence of all these recent events in savage life, had got into a muddled condition of mind that rendered him peculiarly helpless. But they knew nothing of March Marston--they had expected to find him there before them.

As March was well mounted, and known to be well qualified to take care of himself, his non-arrival threw his friends into a state of the utmost anxiety and suspense. They waited a couple of hours, in order to give him a chance of coming in, hoping that he might have merely been detained by some trifling accident, such as having lost his way for a time. But when, at the end of that period, there was still no sign of him, they gave up all hope of his arriving, and at once set out to sweep the whole country round in search of him, vowing in their hearts that they would never return to Pine Point settlement without him if he were alive.

McLeod tried to persuade them to remain at the fort for a few days, but, feeling sympathy with them, he soon ceased to press the matter. As for the wretched chief of the fort, Macgregor--the excitement of the recent transactions being over--he had returned to his bosom friend, and bitterest enemy, the bottle, and was at that time lying in a state of drivelling idiocy in his private chamber.

A few days after quitting the fort, Bounce and Gibault, who chanced to be riding considerably in advance of their companions, halted on the top of a ridge and began to scan the country before them. In the midst of their observations, Bounce broke the silence with a grunt.

"Fat now?" inquired his companion.

"What now?" replied Bounce contemptuously. "Use yer eyes now; d'ye see nothin'?"

"Non, no ting."

"That comes o' the want of obsarvation, now," said Bounce in a grave, reproachful tone. "Ye shouldn't ought to be so light-headed, lad. If ye wos left to yer lone in them sort o' places, ye'd soon lose yer scalp. It's _obsarvation_ as does it all, an' in yer partikler case it's the want o' that same as doesn't do it, d'ye see?"

"Non, vraiment, me shockable blind dis day; mais, p'r'aps, git more cliver de morrow," replied the good-humoured Canadian with a grin. "Fat you see?"

"I see fut-prints," replied Bounce, dismounting; "an' as fut-prints implies feet, an' feet indicates critters, human or otherwise, it becomes men wot be lookin' for a lost comrade to examine 'em with more nor or'nary care."

"Hah!" shouted Gibault with unwonted energy. "Look! voila! behold!

Bounce, you hab great want of 'obsarvation.' See!"

Now it chanced that, while Bounce was on his knees, carefully turning over every leaf and blade of gra.s.s, his comrade, who remained on horseback, and kept gazing at the horizon, without any particular object in view, did suddenly behold an object coming towards them at full gallop. Hence the sudden outburst, and the succeeding exclamation from Bounce--"It's a hoss!"

"A hoss!" repeated Gibault. "Him be one buffalo I see hims b.u.mp."

"The b.u.mps that ye see is neither more nor less than a man leanin'

forard--it is."

At this moment the rest of the party rode up, and Redhand confirmed Bounce's opinion.

"There's only one, I guess, an' he's in a powerful hurry," observed Big Waller. "But we may as well be ready to fix his flint if he means to cut up rough."

He brought forward his gun as he spoke, and examined the priming.

"I b'lieve he's an evil spirit, I do," said Bounce; "wot a pace!"

"More like to de Wild Man of de Vest," observed Gibault.

"Think you so?" whispered Bertram in an anxious tone, with an involuntary motion of his hand to the pouch in which lay that marvellous sketch-book of his.

"Think it's him?" said Redhand to Hawkswing.

The Indian gave a slight grunt of a.s.sent.

But the strange horseman soon put all doubt on the point at rest by bearing down upon them like a whirlwind, his long hair and tags and scalp-locks streaming in the wind as usual. d.i.c.k had a distinct purpose in thus acting. He wished to terrify men, or, at least, to impress them with a wholesome dread of him, in order that he might simply be _let alone_!

He did not check his slashing pace until within four or five bounds of the party. Reining up so violently that he tore up the turf for a couple of yards under his horse's heels, he looked at the trappers with a grave, almost fierce expression, for a second or two.

"You come from the Mountain Fort?" he said.

"Yes," replied Redhand.

"All right there?"

"All right. The redskins threatened an attack, but we were too quick for 'em."

A gleam of satisfaction pa.s.sed across d.i.c.k's face as he added, "You've lost a comrade, han't ye?"

"We jist have," cried Big Waller in surprise. "If you've seed him, I guess ye'd as well take us to his whereabouts."

"See you yonder pine?" said d.i.c.k, pointing back in the direction whence he had come. "One day's journey beyond that, as the crow flies, will bring you to a valley, level and well watered, with plenty o' beaver in it. You'll find him there."

Without waiting a reply d.i.c.k turned to ride away.

"I say, stranger," cried Waller (d.i.c.k paused), "air you, or air you not, the Wild Man o' the West?"

"Wild fools of the West call me so," replied d.i.c.k with a ferocious frown, that went far to corroborate the propriety of the cognomen in the opinion of the trappers.

"Wall, I tell 'ee wot it is, stranger, Wild Man or not, I guess you'll ha' to take us to our comrade yourself, for I'm inclined to opine that you know more about him than's good for ye; so if ye try to ride off, I'll see whether a ball--sixteen to the pound--'ll not stop ye, for all yer bigness."

A grim smile curled d.i.c.k's moustache as he replied, "If ye think that a trapper's word ain't to be trusted, or that committin' murder 'll do yer comrade a service, here's your chance--fire away!"

d.i.c.k wheeled about and cantered coolly away into the thickest part of the forest, leaving the trappers gazing at each other in amazement.

Bertram was the first to speak.

"Oh, why did you not delay him a few seconds longer? See, I have him here--all but the legs of his splendid charger."

The others burst into a laugh.

"If ye've got the body all c'rect, it's easy to calculate the legs by the rules o' proportion, d'ye see?" observed Bounce.

"Come, lads, that's good news about March, anyhow," cried Redhand; "an'

I'm of opinion that the Wild Man o' the West an't just so wild as people think. I, for one, will trust him. There's somethin' about the corner of a man's eye that tells pretty plain whether he's false or true.

Depend on't we shall find March where he told us, so the sooner we set off the better."

Without waiting for a reply, Redhand urged his horse into a gallop, and, followed by his comrades, made for the valley indicated by the Wild Man.

Meanwhile, the Wild Man himself was already far ahead of them, keeping out of sight among the woods, and galloping nearly in the same direction--for his cave lay not more than four miles from the valley in question. Being much better mounted than they, he soon left the trappers far behind him, and when night closed in he continued his journey, instead of halting to eat and take a few hours' rest as they did. The consequence was that he reached his cave several hours before the trappers arrived at the valley, where they expected to find their missing comrade.

Of course March was filled with surprise at this second unexpected return of d.i.c.k; but the latter relieved his mind by explaining, in an offhand way, that he had met a man who had told him the Mountain Fort was all safe, and that his comrades also were safe, and wandering about in that part of the country in search of him. After a good deal of desultory conversation, d.i.c.k turned to his guest with a sad, serious air, and, fixing his large blue eyes on him, said--

"March, lad, you an' me must part soon."

"Part!" exclaimed the youth in surprise, glancing at Mary, who sat opposite to him, embroidering a pair of moccasins.

"Ay, we must part. You'll be well enough in a day or two to travel about with yer comrades. Now, lad, I want ye to understand me. I've lived here, off and on, for the last fourteen or fifteen years--it may be more, it may be less; I don't well remember--an' I've niver suffered men to interfere wi' me. I don't want them, an' they don't want me."