Deerfoot in the Mountains, Edward Sylvester Ellis [e book reader online .txt] 📗

them. Ceasing his work, he came forward to greet the party. He paid no attention to the man until George Shelton told of the mishap in which the life of Victor was saved by the person behind them.
During this brief interchange the trapper kept in the background, with his eyes on the Shawanoe. Needless to say, Deerfoot had recognized him at the first glance. Not suspecting this, the man now came forward, the moving of the beard about his mouth showing that he was grinning and chuckling.
"I reckon you don't remember me, Deerfoot."
"Deerfoot could never forget his brother, Jack Halloway," replied the youth, extending his hand, which was warmly grasped by the trapper.
"I'm powerful glad to meet you agin, Shawanoe, though I hadn't much hope of ever doing so. Talk about friends, you beat 'em all, and I'll be skulped if you don't look handsomer than ever--no you don't, for that couldn't be. Shake agin, pardner."
Deerfoot was as pleased to meet his old acquaintance as the latter was to see him. All seated themselves on the ground about the blaze, and as night had not yet come the meal was deferred until more was learned of what had taken place during the interval between the former meeting and the present coming together.
"Why is my brother in the mountains at this season of the year?" asked Deerfoot, when the trapper had lit his pipe.
Of course cold weather is the time for trapping fur-bearing animals. The custom in the olden days was for the hunters to go into the mountains in the autumn, spend the time until spring in gathering peltries, and then bring them to civilization for sale. It was now summer, and it was not to be supposed that Jack Halloway was engaged on professional business in the Laramie Mountains. He explained:
"Last fall I took a partner--Dick Burley by name--and we put in the winter among the beaver runs and mountains over to the northwest. We done so poor that I let Dick start with the pack animals for St. Louis, without me going with him. He hadn't more than half a load, and we made up our minds that we'd got to find new trapping grounds or we shouldn't make enough to pay for our salt. So me and Dick parted and I've been on the tramp for two months."
"How did you make out?" asked Victor, who, having found an easy position for his aching body, felt it his duty to join in the discussion.
"I hit it when I came to this part of the country. A few miles south are hundreds of beaver, foxes, otter and other critters whose furs we're after. I don't think a single one of 'em has ever been trapped. There's where me and Dick will try it next fall."
"Then you will soon go home?"
"I intended to start to-morrow. My horse is a little way back among the foothills, stuffing himself with enough grass to last him a week."
"My brother will go with us," said the pleased Deerfoot.
"If you don't feel too proud to have me for company, I'll be mighty glad to go with you."
"Nothing will suit us better," said George, heartily. It was natural that he and Victor should feel profoundly grateful to the trapper. Even had he not done them so measureless a service they would have liked him from the first.
It was not until the night had fully come, the evening meal eaten and the fire replenished, though the weather remained mild, that a full interchange took place among the different members of the little party. Victor suffered less from his bruises, and with his blanket wrapped about his shoulders showed no effects from his terrifying adventure. The horses were left to themselves, Jack Halloway saying that no attention need be given to his, despite the possibility of some thieving Indian making off with him. The trapper expressed unbounded admiration of Whirlwind, and could not understand how Deerfoot had ever gained such a piece of property. George and Victor did not dare to explain in the presence of the Shawanoe, but each determined to do so on the first opportunity, despite the risk of another "disciplining" at the hands of the modest youth.
After Jack had smoked awhile and the chat had gone on without any special point, he turned to the Shawanoe and said:
"I've seen you stealing a look at me now and then and I know what you done it for."
"Yes, Deerfoot did so; but my brother cannot tell the reason."
"You've been trying to find out from my looks whether I've stuck to the pledge I made you a year ago to give up drinking whiskey."
"That was the reason; Deerfoot was almost but not quite certain."
"Have you any doubts left?"
The Shawanoe smiled.
"Only a shadow."
"Wal, you can kick that shadow out of sight! I haven't drank a drop of the stuff since that night, a year ago, when I flung my flask into the creek, after hearing your sermon, that shook me down to my toes."
Deerfoot leaned over and offered his hand again to happy Jack Halloway, who turned to the boys.
"Being as he never told you, I might as well give you the story."
Thereupon the trapper related in his characteristic fashion the incident of which you heard long ago. The eyes of the boys kindled and Victor said:
"That is only one of a hundred things Deerfoot has done."
Catching a warning look from the Shawanoe, Victor said in desperation:
"I'm not going to try to give a list, Deerfoot, but won't you let me tell Jack how you whipped the greatest war chief of the Blackfeet and how he became a Christian?"
"There is no need of that, but my brothers may tell what happened to them when they disobeyed Deerfoot."
"I'll do that if you don't shut down on the other story."
The Shawanoe would have refused, but the trapper's curiosity had been stirred and he insisted upon hearing of the incident. As a compromise the Indian youth rose to his feet and sauntered out to where Whirlwind was still cropping the juicy herbage. He would not stay and listen to what he knew was about to be said. The boys were glad to have him absent, for it left them free to speak what they pleased, and you may be sure that Victor and George did not mince matters. Their account of that remarkable combat and its results was told with graphic eloquence. Then George added the story of Deerfoot's encounter with the grizzly bear and his defeat of the Assiniboine, whose life he spared. Inasmuch as the boys had never been able to draw the particulars of that combat from Deerfoot, Victor had to embellish it with his own imagination, and he did it to perfection. He was in the midst of a description of how the Shawanoe beat the best marksmen, runners and leapers of the Blackfeet when Deerfoot came back to the camp fire.
"Now let my brothers tell of what happened to them when Deerfoot was through with Taggarak."
"You needn't worry; I didn't forget that. Well, Jack, you see Deerfoot forbade me and George to come anywhere near, but we couldn't stay away. He found it out, cut a big gad and splintered it over our shoulders and we couldn't help ourselves."
And then Jack Halloway threw back his head and roared with laughter, declaring that he had never heard so good a story.


CHAPTER XXVI.
A TEMPERANCE AGITATOR.
"I'll never forget that ride home last year," said Jack Halloway, "after I pulled out in the night and left Deerfoot with you younkers asleep by the camp fire. It took me a week to reach St. Louis, and there wasn't a drop of whiskey to be had on the road. For two or three days I was the most miserable critter that ever limped on two legs. I'd have give my whole load of peltries to get that flask back agin, but there was no help for it. Twice I rode up to the camp fires of Injins, hoping to buy some fire water from them, but neither party had a drop. Then I buckled down to it.
"On the fourth night when I camped I was almost crazy. As I rolled about in my blanket, not able to sleep a wink, I remembered what Deerfoot had said to me about praying. Strange I'd never thought of it before. Wal, I got on my knees, and if ever a poor wretch prayed it was Jack Halloway, and I kept it up for two or three hours. I was about ready to let go when _the thing which I was praying for came to me!_
"Just as plain as I have heard your voices, I catched the words, 'It's all right; you've conquered your temptation; you're boss now.' Some folks may laugh, but it won't do for 'em to say where Jack Halloway can hear 'em that thar's nothing in the Christian religion. I know better, 'cause I've got it right there!" exclaimed the trapper, thumping his heart.
"From that time forward everything was rosy with me. The sun never shone so bright, the birds never sung so sweet and I never felt so happy through and through. I shouted and yelled for joy and walloped the horses, just because I couldn't help it. If I had met anyone at those times he would have set me down as drunk. So I was--drunk with pure joy and religion.
"At St. Louis I sold my peltries for the biggest price I've got in ten years. I took the money home and throwed it into the lap of my little, sweet, gray-haired mother, who just stared at me, not knowing what it meant. When I made it all clear she began crying, and then she dropped on her knees and I dropped alongside of her, and when she got through praying I took up the job and kept things humming for another half hour. After I'd let up I grabbed her in my arms, and we danced about that cabin, just as she used to do when she was the belle of the town, and we laughed and frolicked and made a couple of fools of ourselves.
"When she asked me to tell her the meaning of my short rein-up and change of my life, I give her the whole thing. It was the work of a young Shawanoe Injin called Deerfoot, who was the most ginooine Christian on either side of the old Mississippi. She asked all about you, Deerfoot, and she said she hoped she would meet you some day. So when we get back to St. Louis I'll introduce you."
"Deerfoot will be glad to see the mother of my brother," softly replied the Shawanoe, in a voice tremulous with feeling. He and the boys listened with absorbed interest to the graphic story told by the trapper.
"French Pete keeps the worst whiskey hole along the Mississippi. It is down by the river side and is the main drinking place in the town. He has got hundreds of dollars from the families of the trappers who come down the river in the spring, and for years he has gathered in about every cent I could rake together.
"Wal, after I had been home about a week I strolled down to his place one moonlight night. I told mother not to worry about me, for I would blow my own head off before I'd ever swaller another drop of red p'ison. When I opened the door of the ramshackle cabin, Pete looked up with a grin, and said as how he was wondering where I'd kept myself so long, for he had heerd I'd got back and done unusual well. He was