The Best Ballantyne Westerns. R. M. Ballantyne

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СКАЧАТЬ was a universal shout of contempt at this mild proposal. Unfortunately, few of the men sent on this exploring expedition were imbued with the peacemaking spirit of their chief; and most of them seemed glad to have a chance of venting their hatred of the poor Indians on this unhappy wretch, who although calm, looked sharply from one speaker to another, to gather hope, if possible, from the tones of their voices.

      Dick was resolved at the risk of a quarrel with Pièrre to save the poor man’s life, and had made up his mind to insist on having him conducted to the camp to be tried by Cameron, when one of the men suggested that they should take the savage to the top of a hill about three miles further on, and there hang him up on a tree as a warning to all his tribe.

      “Agreed, agreed,” cried the men; “come on.”

      Dick, too, seemed to agree to this proposal, and hastily ordered Crusoe to run on ahead with the savage, an order which the dog obeyed so vigorously that before the men had done laughing at him, he was a couple of hundred yards ahead of them.

      “Take care that he don’t get off!” cried Dick, springing on Charlie and stretching out at a gallop.

      In a moment he was beside the Indian. Scraping together the little of the Indian language he knew, he stooped down, and, cutting the thongs that bound him, said—“Go, white men love the Indians.”

      The man cast on his deliverer one glance of surprise, and the next moment bounded aside into the bushes and was gone.

      A loud shout from the party behind showed that this act had been observed, and Crusoe stood with the end of the line in his mouth, and an expression on his face that said, “You’re absolutely incomprehensible, Dick! It’s all right, I know; but to my feeble capacity it seems wrong.”

      “Fat for, you do dat?” shouted Pièrre in a rage, as he came up with a menacing look.

      Dick confronted him. “The prisoner was mine. I had a right to do with him as it liked me.”

      “True, true,” cried several of the men who had begun to repent of their resolution, and were glad the savage was off. “The lad’s right. Get along, Pièrre.”

      “You had no right, you vas wrong. Oui, et I have goot vill to give you one knock on de nose.”

      Dick looked Pièrre in the face, as he said this, in a manner that cowed him.

      “It is time,” he said quietly, pointing to the sun, “to go on. Your bourgeois expects that time won’t be wasted.”

      Pièrre muttered something in an angry tone, and, wheeling round his horse, dashed forward at full gallop followed by the rest of the men.

      The trappers encamped that night on the edge of a wide grassy plain, which offered such tempting food for the horses that Pièrre resolved to forego his usual cautious plan of picketting them close to the camp, and set them loose on the plain, merely hobbling them to prevent their straying far.

      Dick remonstrated, but in vain. An insolent answer was all he got for his pains. He determined, however, to keep Charlie close beside him all night, and also made up his mind to keep a sharp look out on the other horses.

      At supper he again remonstrated.

      “No fraid,” said Pièrre, whose pipe was beginning to improve his temper. “The red reptiles no dare to come in open plain when de moon so clear.”

      “Dun know that,” said a taciturn trapper, who seldom ventured a remark of any kind; “them varmints ’ud steal the two eyes out o’ you’ head when they set their hearts on’t.”

      “Dat ar’ umposs’ble, for de have no hearts,” said a half-breed; “dey have von hole vere de heart vas be.”

      This was received with a shout of laughter, in the midst of which an appalling yell was heard, and, as if by magic, four Indians were seen on the backs of four of the best horses, yelling like fiends, and driving all the other horses furiously before them over the plain.

      How they got there was a complete mystery, but the men did not wait to consider that point. Catching up their guns they sprang after them with the fury of madmen, and were quickly scattered far and wide. Dick ordered Crusoe to follow and help the men, and turned to spring on the back of Charlie, but at that moment he observed an Indian’s head and shoulders rise above the grass, not fifty yards in advance from him, so without hesitation he darted forward, intending to pounce upon him.

      Well would it have been for Dick Varley had he at that time possessed a little more experience of the wiles and stratagems of the Banattees. The Snake nation is subdivided into several tribes, of which those inhabiting the Rocky Mountains, called the Banattees, are the most perfidious. Indeed, they are confessedly the banditti of the hills, and respect neither friend nor foe, but rob all who come in their way.

      Dick reached the spot where the Indian had disappeared in less than a minute, but no savage was to be seen! Thinking he had crept ahead he ran on a few yards further, and darted about hither and thither, while his eye glanced from side to side. Suddenly a shout in the camp attracted his attention, and looking back he beheld the savage on Charlie’s back turning to fly. Next moment he was off and away far beyond the hope of recovery. Dick had left his rifle in the camp, otherwise the savage would have gone but a short way—as it was, Dick returned, and sitting down on a mound of grass, stared straight before him with a feeling akin to despair. Even Crusoe could not have helped him had he been there, for nothing on four legs, or on two, could keep pace with Charlie.

      The Banattee achieved this feat by adopting a stratagem which invariably deceives those who are ignorant of their habits and tactics. When suddenly pursued the Banattee sinks into the grass, and, serpentlike, creeps along with wonderful rapidity, not from but towards his enemy, taking care, however, to avoid him, so that when the pursuer reaches the spot where the pursued is supposed to be hiding, he hears him shout a yell of defiance far away in the rear.

      It was thus that the Banattee eluded Dick and gained the camp almost as soon as the other reached the spot where he had disappeared.

      One by one the trappers came back weary, raging, and despairing. In a short time they all assembled, and soon began to reproach each other. Ere long one or two had a fight, which resulted in several bloody noses and black eyes, thus adding to the misery which, one would think, had been bad enough without such additions. At last they finished their suppers and their pipes, and then lay down to sleep under the trees till morning, when they arose in a particularly silent and sulky mood, rolled up their blankets, strapped their things on their shoulders, and began to trudge slowly back to the camp on foot.

      CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

       Table of Contents

      Wolves attack the horses, and Cameron circumvents the wolves—A bear-hunt, in which Henri shines conspicuous—Joe and the “Natter-list”—An alarm—A surprise and a capture.

      We must now return to the camp where Walter Cameron still guarded the goods, and the men pursued their trapping avocations.

      Here seven of the horses had been killed in one night by wolves while grazing in a plain close to the camp, and on the night following a horse that had strayed was also torn to pieces and devoured. The prompt and daring manner in which this had been done convinced СКАЧАТЬ