Wild Western Scenes Part 41

"There is no reason why they should not be. Let us tell them to remain and be happy," said Glenn.

When fully informed that she might abide with them and still love her Young Eagle, La-u-na was almost frantic with ecstasy. She looked gratefully and fondly on her new friends, and pressed their hands in turn. She seemed to be more especially fond of Mary, and repeatedly wound her smooth and soft arms affectionately about her waist and neck.

William led his Indian bride to the seat under the spreading green tree, and signified a desire to commune with her alone. When seated together on the rude bench, the maiden's hand clasped in William's, Mary fondly kissed them both and withdrew in company with Roughgrove and Glenn. Roughgrove prostrated himself in prayer when within the house. Mary ran up to the top of the beetling cliff to cull flowers, and Glenn directed his steps down the valley towards the river, whither Joe had preceded him with the frog he had succeeded in capturing.

Glenn was met about midway by Joe, who was returning slowly, with peculiar marks of agitation on his face. He had neither frog, rod, nor fish in his hand.

"I thought you were fishing," remarked Glenn.

"So I am," replied Joe; "and I've had the greatest luck you ever heard of."

"Well, tell me your success."

"I had a bite," continued he, "in less than three minutes after I threw in my hook. It was a wapper! When he took hold I let him play about awhile with a slack line, to be certain and get it well fixed in his mouth. But when I went to draw up, the monster made a splash or two, and then whizzed out into the middle of the river!"

"Where was the hook?" asked Glenn.

"In his mouth, to be sure," replied Joe.

"And the line?"

"Fast to the rod."

"And the rod?"

"Fast to the line!" said Joe, "and following the fish at the rate of ten knots, while I stood on the bank staring in utter astonishment."

"Then, where was your great success?" demanded Glenn.

"It was a n.o.ble _bite_," said Joe.

"But you were the _bitten_ one," remarked Glenn, scanning Joe's visage, which began to a.s.sume a disconsolate cast.

"If I'd only been thinking about such a wapper, and had been on my guard," said Joe, "splash me if he should ever have got my rod away in that manner--I'd have taken a ducking first!"

"Have you no more lines?" asked Glenn.

"No," replied Joe, "none but your's."

"You are welcome to it--but be quick, and I will look on while you have your revenge."

Joe sprang nimbly up the hill, and in a few minutes returned with fresh tackle and another frog that he found on his way. They then repaired to the margin of the river; but before Joe ventured to cast out his line again he made the end of the rod fast to his wrist by means of a strong cord he had provided for that purpose. But now his precaution seemed to have been unnecessary, for many minutes elapsed without any symptoms of success.

Glenn grew impatient and retired a few paces to the base of the cliff, where he reclined in an easy posture on some huge rocks that had tumbled down from a great height, and lay half-imbedded in the earth.

Here he long remained with his eyes fixed abstractedly on the curling water, and meditated on the occurrence he had recently witnessed.

While his thoughts were dwelling on the singular affection and constancy of the Indian girl, and the probable future happiness of her young lord, his reflections more than once turned upon his _own_ condition. The simple pleasantries that had so often occurred between Mary and himself never failed to produce many unconscious smiles on his lips, and being reciprocated and repeated day after day with increased delight, it was no wonder that he found himself heaving tender sighs as he occasionally pictured her happy features in his mind's eye. He now endeavoured to bestow some grave consideration on the tender subject, and to think seriously about the proper mode of conducting himself in future, when he heard the innocent maiden's clear and inspiring voice ringing down the valley and sinking in soft murmuring echoes on the gliding stream. Soon his quick ear caught the words, which he recognised to be a short ballad of his own composing, that had been written at Mary's request. He then listened in silence, without moving from his rec.u.mbent position.

THE CRUEL MAIDEN.

I.

She heard his prayer and sweetly smiled, Then frown'd, and laughing fled away; But the poor youth, e'en thus beguiled, Still would pray.

II.

He'd won her heart, but still she fled, And laugh'd and mock'd from dell and peak While his sad heart, that inward bled, Was fit to break!

III.

Where the bright waters lead adown The moss-green rocks and flags among, He paused--and on his brow a frown Darkly hung!

IV.

A shriek came down the peaceful vale, Full soon the maid was at his side, Her ringlets flowing, and cheeks all pale, A _willing_ bride!

Glenn long remained motionless after the sounds died away, as if endeavouring to retain the soothing effect of the ringing notes that had so sweetly reverberated along the jutting peaks of the towering cliff!

"I've got a bite!" exclaimed Joe, bending over the verge of the bank and stretching his arms as far as possible over the water, while his line moved about in various directions, indicating truly that a fish had taken the hook.

"Hold fast to the rod this time, Joe," remarked Glenn, who became interested in the scene.

"Won't I? Its tied fast to my wrist."

"Is it not time to pull him up?" asked Glenn, seeing that the fish, so far from being conscious of peril, inclined towards the sh.o.r.e with the line in quest of more food.

"Here goes!" said Joe, jerking the rod up violently with both hands.

No sooner did the fish feel the piercing hook in his mouth than he rose to the surface, and splashing the water several feet round in every direction, darted quickly downwards, in spite of the strenuous efforts of Joe to the contrary.

Nevertheless, Joe entertained no fears about the result; and the fish, as if apprized of the impossibility of capturing the rod, ran along parallel with the sh.o.r.e, gradually approaching the brink of the water, and seemingly with the intention to surrender himself at the feet of the piscator. But this was not his purpose. When Joe made another strong pull, in the endeavour to strand him in the shallow water, the fish again threw up the spray (some of which reached his adversary's face,) and, turning his head outwards, ran directly away from the sh.o.r.e.

"Pull him back, Joe!" said Glenn.

"I am trying with all my might," replied Joe, "but he's so plaguy strong he won't come, hang him!"

"He'll get away if you don't mind!" continued Glenn, evincing much animation in his tones and gestures.

"I'll be drenched if he does!" said Joe, with his arm, to which the rod was lashed, stretched out, while he endeavoured to plant his feet firmly in the sand.

"He'll have you in the water--cut the rod loose from your wrist!"

cried Glenn, as Joe's foothold gave way and he was truly drawn into the water.

"Oh, good gracious! I've got no knife! Give me your hand!" cried Joe, vainly striving to untie the cord. "Help me! Oh, St. Peter!" he continued, imploringly, as the fish drew him on in the water, in quick but reluctant strides. "Oh! I'm gone!" he cried, when the water was midway to his chin, and the fish pulling him along with increasing rapidity.

"You are a good swimmer, Joe--be not alarmed, and you will not be hurt," said Glenn, half inclined to laugh at his man's indescribable contortions and grimaces, and apprehending no serious result.

"Ugh!" cried Joe, the water now up to his chin, and the next moment, when in the act of making a hasty and piteous entreaty, his head quickly dipped under the turbid surface and disappeared entirely.

Glenn now became alarmed; but, when in the act of divesting himself of his clothing for the purpose of plunging in to his rescue, Joe rose again some forty paces out in the current, and by the exertion of the arm that was free he was enabled to keep his head above the water. The current was very strong, and the fish, in endeavouring; to run up the stream with his prize in tow, made but little headway, and a very few minutes sufficed to prove that it was altogether unequal to the attempt. After having progressed about six rods, Joe's head became quite stationary like a buoy, or a cork at anchor, and then, by degrees, was carried downward by the strong flow as the fish at length became quite exhausted.