The Best Ballantyne Westerns. R. M. Ballantyne

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СКАЧАТЬ down amid a universal “Ho!” uttered by the company with an emphatic prolongation of the last letter—this syllable being the Indian substitute, we presume, for “rapturous applause.”

      The chief who officiated on the present occasion, having accomplished the opening ceremonies thus far, sat down; while the pipe-bearer presented the sacred stem to the members of the company in succession, each of whom drew a few whiffs and mumbled a few words.

      “Do as you see the redskins do, Mr Charles,” whispered Jacques, while the pipe was going round.

      “That’s impossible,” replied Charley, in a tone that could not be heard except by his friend. “I couldn’t make a face of hideous solemnity like that black thief opposite if I was to try ever so hard.”

      “Don’t let them think you are laughing at them,” returned the hunter; “they would be ill pleased if they thought so.”

      “I’ll try,” said Charley, “but it is hard work, Jacques, to keep from laughing; I feel like a high-pressure steam-engine already. There’s a woman standing out there with a little brown baby on her back; she has quite fascinated me; I can’t keep my eyes off her, and if she goes on contorting her visage much longer, I feel that I shall give way.”

      “Hush!”

      At this moment the pipe was presented to Charley, who put it to his lips, drew three whiffs, and returned it with a bland smile to the bearer.

      The smile was a very sweet one, for that was a peculiar trait in the native urbanity of Charley’s disposition, and it would have gone far in civilised society to prepossess strangers in his favour: but it lowered him considerably in the estimation of his red friends, who entertained a whole some feeling of contempt for any appearance of levity on high occasions. But Charley’s face was of that agreeable stamp that, though gentle and bland when lighted up with a smile, is particularly masculine and manly in expression when in repose, and the frown that knit his brows when he observed the bad impression he had given almost reinstated him in their esteem. But his popularity became great, and the admiration of his swarthy friends greater, when he rose and made an eloquent speech in English, which Jacques translated into the Indian language.

      He told them, in reply to the chief’s oration (wherein that warrior had complimented his pale-faced brothers on their numerous good qualities), that he was delighted and proud to meet with his Indian friends; that the object of his mission was to acquaint them with the fact that a new trading-fort was established not far off, by himself and his comrades, for their special benefit and behoof; that the stores were full of goods which he hoped they would soon obtain possession of, in exchange for furs; that he had travelled a great distance on purpose to see their land and ascertain its capabilities in the way of fur-bearing animals and game; that he had not been disappointed in his expectations, as he had found the animals to be as numerous as bees, the fish plentiful in the rivers and lakes, and the country at large a perfect paradise. He proceeded to tell them further that he expected they would justify the report he had heard of them, that they were a brave nation and good hunters, by bringing in large quantities of furs.

      Being strongly urged by Jacques to compliment them on their various good qualities, Charley launched out into an extravagantly poetic vein, said that he had heard (but he hoped to have many opportunities of seeing it proved) that there was no nation under the sun equal to them in bravery, activity, and perseverance; that he had heard of men in olden times who made it their profession to fight with wild bulls for the amusement of their friends, but he had no doubt whatever their courage would be made conspicuous in the way of fighting wild bears and buffaloes, not for the amusement but the benefit of their wives and children (he might have added, of the Hudson’s Bay Company, but he didn’t, supposing that that was self-evident, probably). He complimented them on the way in which they had conducted themselves in war in times past, comparing their stealthy approach to enemies camps to the insidious snake that glides among the bushes and darts unexpectedly on its prey; said that their eyes were sharp to follow the war-trail through the forest or over the dry sward of the prairie; their aim with gun or bow true and sure as the flight of the goose when it leaves the lands of the sun, and points its beak to the icy regions of the north; their war-whoops loud as the thunders of the cataract; and their sudden onset like the lightning flash that darts from the sky and scatters the stout oak in splinters on the plain.

      At this point Jacques expressed his satisfaction at the style in which his young friend was progressing.

      “That’s your sort, Mr Charles. Don’t spare the butter; lay it on thick. You’ve not said too much yet, for they are a brave race, that’s a fact, as I’ve good reason to know.”

      Jacques, however, did not feel quite so well satisfied when Charley went on to tell them that, although bravery in war was an admirable thing, war itself was a thing not at all to be desired, and should only be undertaken in case of necessity. He especially pointed out that there was not much glory to be earned in fighting against the Chipewyans, who, everybody knew, were a poor, timid set of people, whom they ought rather to pity than to destroy; and recommended them to devote themselves more to the chase than they had done in times past, and less to the prosecution of war in time to come.

      All this, and a great deal more, did Charley say, in a manner, and with a rapidity of utterance, that surprised himself, when he considered the fact that he had never adventured into the field of public speaking before. All this, and a great deal more—a very great deal more—did Jacques Caradoc interpret to the admiring Indians, who listened with the utmost gravity and profound attention, greeting the close with a very emphatic “Ho!”

      Jacques’s translation was by no means perfect. Many of the flights into which Charley ventured, especially in regard to the manners and customs of the savages of ancient Greece and Rome, were quite incomprehensible to the worthy backwoodsman; but he invariably proceeded when Charley halted, giving a flight of his own when at a loss, varying and modifying when he thought it advisable, and altering, adding, or cutting off as he pleased.

      Several other chiefs addressed the assembly, and then dinner, if we may so call it, was served. In Charley’s case it was breakfast; to the Indians it was breakfast, dinner, and supper in one. It consisted of a large platter of dried meat, reindeer tongues (considered a great delicacy), and marrowbones.

      Notwithstanding the graphic power with which Jacques had prepared his young companion for this meal, Charley’s heart sank when he beheld the mountain of boiled meat that was placed before him. He was ravenously hungry, it is true, but it was patent to his perception at a glance that no powers of gormandising of which he was capable could enable him to consume the mass in the course of one day.

      Jacques observed his consternation, and was not a little entertained by it, although his face wore an expression of profound gravity while he proceeded to attack his own dish, which was equal to that of his friend.

      Before commencing, a small portion of meat was thrown into the fire, as a sacrifice to the Great Master of Life.

      “How they do eat, to be sure!” whispered Charley to Jacques, after he had glanced in wonder at the circle of men who were devouring their food with the most extraordinary rapidity.

      “Why, you must know,” replied Jacques, “that it’s considered a point of honour to get it over soon, and the man that is done first gets most credit. But it’s hard work,” (he sighed, and paused a little to breathe), “and I’ve not got half through yet.”

      “It’s quite plain that I must lose credit with them, then, if it depends on my eating that. Tell me, Jacques, is there no way of escape? Must I sit here till it is all consumed?”

      “No doubt of it. Every bit that СКАЧАТЬ