The Dog Crusoe and his Master, R. M. Ballantyne [korean ebook reader .txt] 📗

again stood forward and said, “The Peigans are not double-tongued. They have not seen Pale-faces till to-day. They can say no more.”

Without moving hand or foot, Cameron then said in a firm tone, “The first Peigan that moves shall die! Up, lads, and ready!”

In the twinkling of an eye the trappers sprang to their feet, and cocking their rifles stood perfectly motionless, scowling at the savages, who were completely taken by surprise at the unusual suddenness and informality of such a declaration of war. Not a man moved, for, unlike white men, they seldom risk their lives in open fight; and as they looked at the formidable row of muzzles that waited but a word to send instant death into their midst, they felt that discretion was at that time the better part of valour.

“Now,” said Cameron, while Dick Varley and Crusoe stepped up beside him, “my young warrior will search for the Pale-face prisoners. If they are found, we will take them and go away. If they are not found, we will ask the Peigans to forgive us, and will give them gifts. But in the meantime, if a Peigan moves from the spot where he sits, or lifts a bow, my young men shall fire, and the Peigans know that the rifle of the Pale-face always kills.”

Without waiting for an answer, Dick immediately said, “Seek ’em out, pup,” and Crusoe bounded away.

For a few minutes he sprang hither and thither through the camp, quite regardless of the Indians, and snuffed the air several times, whining in an excited tone, as if to relieve his feelings. Then he put his nose to the ground and ran straight forward into the woods. Dick immediately bounded after him like a deer, while the trappers kept silent guard over the savages.

For some time Crusoe ran straight forward. Then he came to a spot where there was a good deal of drifted snow on the ground. Here he seemed to lose the trail for a little, and ran about in all directions, whining in a most piteous tone.

“Seek ’em out, pup,” repeated Dick encouragingly, while his own breast heaved with excitement and expectation.

In a few seconds the dog resumed its onward course, and led the way into a wild, dark spot, which was so overshadowed by trees and precipitous cliffs that the light of the sun scarce found entrance. There were many huge masses of rock scattered over the ground, which had fallen from the cliffs. Behind one of these lay a mound of dried leaves, towards which Crusoe darted and commenced scraping violently.

Trembling with dread that he should find this to be the grave of his murdered companions, Dick rushed forward and hastily cleared away the leaves. The first handful thrown off revealed part of the figure of a man. Dick’s heart beat audibly as he cleared the leaves from the face, and he uttered a suppressed cry on beholding the well-known features of Joe Blunt! But they were not those of a dead man. Joe’s eyes met his with a scowl of anger, which instantly gave place to one of intense surprise.

“Joe Blunt!” exclaimed Dick in a voice of intense amazement, while Crusoe sniffed round the heap of leaves, and whined with excitement. But Joe did not move, neither did he speak a word in reply—for the very good reasons that his mouth was tightly bound with a band of leather, his hands and feet were tied, and his whole body was secured in a rigid, immovable position by being bound to a pole of about his own length.

In a moment Dick’s knife was out, bands and cords were severed, and Joe Blunt was free.

“Thank God,” exclaimed Joe with a deep, earnest sigh, the instant his lips were loosened, “and thanks to you, lad,” he added, endeavouring to rise, but his limbs had become so benumbed in consequence of the cords by which they had been compressed that for some time he could not move.

“I’ll rub ye, Joe—I’ll soon rub ye into a right state,” said Dick, going down on his knees.

“No, no, lad, look sharp and dig up Henri. He’s just beside me here.”

Dick immediately rose, and, pushing aside the heap of leaves, found Henri securely bound in the same fashion. But he could scarce refrain from laughing at the expression of that worthy’s face. Hearing the voices of Joe and Dick Varley in conversation, though unable to see their persons, he was filled with such unbounded amazement that his eyes, when uncovered, were found to be at their largest possible stretch, and as for the eyebrows, they were gone, utterly lost among the roots of his voluminous hair.

“Henri, friend, I knew I should find ye,” said Dick, cutting the thongs that bound him. “Get up if ye can, we haven’t much time to lose, an’ mayhap we’ll have to fight afore we’re done wi’ the Red-skins. Can ye rise?”

Henri could do nothing but lie on his back and gasp, “Eh! possible! mon frère! Oh, non, non, not possible. Oui! my broder Deek!”

Here he attempted to rise, but, being unable, fell back again, and the whole thing came so suddenly, and made so deep an impression on his impulsive mind, that he incontinently burst into tears; then he burst into a long laugh. Suddenly he paused, and, scrambling up to a sitting posture, looked earnestly into Dick’s face through his tearful eyes.

“Oh, non, non!” he exclaimed, stretching himself out at full length again, and closing his eyes; “it are too goot to be true. I am dream. I vill wait till I am wake.”

Dick roused him out of this resolute sleep, however, somewhat roughly. Meanwhile Joe had rubbed and kicked himself into a state of animation, exclaiming that he felt as if he wos walkin’ on a thousand needles and pins, and in a few minutes they were ready to accompany their overjoyed deliverer back to the Peigan camp. Crusoe testified his delight in various elephantine gambols round the persons of his old friends, who were not slow to acknowledge his services.

“They haven’t treated us overly well,” remarked Joe Blunt, as they strode through the underwood.

“Non, de rascale, vraiment, de am villains. Oui! How de have talk, too, ’bout—oh-o-oo-ooo-wah!—roastin’ us alive, an’ puttin’ our scalp in de vigvam for de poopoose to play wid!”

“Well, niver mind, Henri, we’ll be quits wi’ them now,” said Joe, as they came in sight of the two bands, who remained in precisely the same position in which they had been left, except that one or two of the more reckless of the trappers had lit their pipes and taken to smoking, without, however, laying down their rifles or taking their eyes off the savages.

A loud cheer greeted the arrival of the prisoners, and looks of considerable discomfort began to be evinced by the Indians.

“Glad to see you, friends,” said Cameron, as they came up.

“Ve is ’appy ov de same,” replied Henri, swaggering up in the joviality of his heart, and seizing the trader’s hand in his own enormous fist. “Shall ve go to york an’ slay dem all at vonce, or von at a time?”

“We’ll consider that afterwards, my lad. Meantime go you to the rear, and get a weapon of some sort.”

“Oui. Ah! c’est charmant,” he cried, going with an immense flounder into the midst of the amused trappers, and slapping those next to him on the back. “Give me veapon, do, mes ami—gun, pistol, anyting—cannon, if you have von.”

Meanwhile Cameron and Joe spoke together for a few moments.

“You had goods with you, and horses, I believe, when you were captured,” said the former.

“Ay, that we had. Yonder stand the horses under the pine-tree, along wi’ the rest o’ the Red-skin troop, an a hard time they’ve had o’t, as their bones may tell without speakin’. As for the goods,” he continued, glancing round the camp, “I don’t know where—ah! yes, there they be in the old pack. I see all safe.”

Cameron now addressed the Indians.

“The Peigans,” he said, “have not done well. Their hearts have not been true to the Pale-faces. Even now I could take your scalps where you sit; but white men do not like war, they do not like revenge. The Peigans may go free.”

Considering the fewness of their numbers, this was bold language to use towards the Indians; but the boldest is generally the best policy on such occasions. Moreover, Cameron felt that, being armed with rifles, while the Indians had only bows and arrows, the trappers had a great advantage over them.

The Indian who had spoken before now rose and said he was sorry there should be any cause of difference between them, and added he was sorry for a great many more things besides, but he did not say he was sorry for having told a lie.

“But, before you go, you must deliver up the horses and goods belonging to these men,” said Cameron pointing to Joe and Henri.

This was agreed to. The horses were led out, the two little packs containing Joe’s goods were strapped upon them, and then the trappers turned to depart. The Indians did not move until they had mounted; then they rose and advanced in a body to the edge of the wood, to see the Pale-faces go away. Meanwhile Joe spoke a few words to Cameron, and the men were ordered to halt, while the former dismounted and led his horse towards the band of savages.

“Peigans,” he said, “you know the object for which I came into this country was to make peace between you and the Pale-faces. I have often told you so when you would not listen, and when you told me that I had a double heart, and told lies. You were wrong when you said this; but I do not wonder, for you live among nations who do not fear God, and who think it right to lie. I now repeat to you what I said before. It would be good for the Red-men if they would make peace with the Pale-faces, and if they would make peace with each other. I will now convince you that I am in earnest, and have all along been speaking the truth.”

Hereupon Joe Blunt opened his bundle of goods, and presented fully one-half of the gaudy and brilliant contents to the astonished Indians, who seemed quite taken aback by such generous treatment. The result of this was that the two parties separated with mutual expressions of esteem and good will. The Indians then returned to the forest, and the white men galloped back to their camp among the hills.