The Dog Crusoe and His Master: A Story of Adventure in the Western Prairies, - [books for new readers .TXT] 📗

wonder what the
sodgers are doin' wi' Joe Blunt."

As often happens when an individual is mentioned,
the worthy referred to opened the door at that moment
and stepped into the room.

"Good e'en t'ye, dame," said the stout hunter, doffing
his cap, and resting his rifle in a corner, while Dick
rose and placed a chair for him.

"The same to you, Master Blunt," answered the widow;
"you've jist comed in good time for a cut o' venison."

"Thanks, mistress; I s'pose we're beholden to the
silver rifle for that."

"To the hand that aimed it, rather," suggested the
widow.

"Nay, then, say raither to the dog that turned it,"
said Dick Varley. "But for Crusoe, that buck would
ha' bin couched in the woods this night."

"Oh! if it comes to that," retorted Joe, "I'd lay it
to the door o' Fan, for if she'd niver bin born nother
would Crusoe. But it's good an' tender meat, whativer
ways ye got it. Howsiver, I've other things to talk
about jist now. Them sodgers that are eatin' buffalo
tongues up at the block-house as if they'd niver ate meat
before, and didn't hope to eat again for a twelvemonth--"

"Ay, what o' them?" interrupted Mrs. Varley; "I've
bin wonderin' what was their errand."

"Of coorse ye wos, Dame Varley, and I've comed
here a purpis to tell ye. They want me to go to the
Redskins to make peace between them and us; and
they've brought a lot o' goods to make them presents
withal--beads, an' knives, an' lookin'-glasses, an' vermilion
paint, an' sich like, jist as much as'll be a light
load for one horse--for, ye see, nothin' can be done wi'
the Redskins without gifts."

"'Tis a blessed mission," said the widow; "I wish it
may succeed. D'ye think ye'll go?"

"Go? ay, that will I."

"I only wish they'd made the offer to me," said Dick
with a sigh.

"An' so they do make the offer, lad. They've gin
me leave to choose the two men I'm to take with me,
and I've corned straight to ask you. Ay or no, for we
must up an' away by break o' day to-morrow."

Mrs. Varley started. "So soon?" she said, with a
look of anxiety.

"Ay; the Pawnees are at the Yellow Creek jist at
this time, but I've heerd they're 'bout to break up
camp an' away west; so we'll need to use haste."

"May I go, mother?" asked Dick, with a look of
anxiety.

There was evidently a conflict in the widow's breast,
but it quickly ceased.

"Yes, my boy," she said in her own low, quiet voice;
"and God go with ye. I knew the time must come
soon, an' I thank him that your first visit to the Redskins
will be on an errand o' peace. 'Blessed are the
peace-makers: for they shall be called the children of
God.'"

Dick grasped his mother's hand and pressed it to his
cheek in silence. At the same moment Crusoe, seeing
that the deeper feelings of his master were touched, and
deeming it his duty to sympathize, rose up and thrust
his nose against him.

"Ah, pup," cried the young man hastily, "you must
go too.--Of course Crusoe goes, Joe Blunt?"

"Hum! I don't know that. There's no dependin' on
a dog to keep his tongue quiet in times o' danger."

"Believe me," exclaimed Dick, flashing with enthusiasm,
"Crusoe's more trustworthy than I am myself.
If ye can trust the master, ye're safe to trust the pup."

"Well, lad, ye may be right. We'll take him."

"Thanks, Joe. And who else goes with us?"

"I've' bin castin' that in my mind for some time, an'
I've fixed to take Henri. He's not the safest man in
the valley, but he's the truest, that's a fact. And now,
youngster, get yer horse an' rifle ready, and come to the
block-house at daybreak to-morrow.--Good luck to ye,
mistress, till we meet agin."

Joe Blunt rose, and taking up his rifle--without
which he scarcely ever moved a foot from his own door--left
the cottage with rapid strides.

"My son," said Mrs. Varley, kissing Dick's cheek as
he resumed his seat, "put this in the little pocket I
made for it in your hunting-shirt."


She handed him a small pocket Bible.

"Dear mother," he said, as he placed the book carefully
within the breast of his coat, "the Redskin that
takes that from me must take my scalp first. But
don't fear for me. You've often said the Lord would
protect me. So he will, mother, for sure it's an errand
o' peace."

"Ay that's it, that's it," murmured the widow in a
half-soliloquy.

Dick Varley spent that night in converse with his
mother, and next morning at daybreak he was at the
place of meeting, mounted on his sturdy little horse,
with the "silver rifle" on his shoulder and Crusoe by
his side.

"That's right, lad, that's right. Nothin' like keepin'
yer time," said Joe, as he led out a pack-horse from the
gate of the block-house, while his own charger was held
ready saddled by a man named Daniel Brand, who had
been appointed to the charge of the block-house in his
absence.

"Where's Henri?--oh, here he comes!" exclaimed
Dick, as the hunter referred to came thundering up
the slope at a charge, on a horse that resembled its
rider in size and not a little in clumsiness of appearance.

"Ah! mes boy. Him is a goot one to go," cried

Henri, remarking Dick's smile as he pulled up. "No
hoss on de plain can beat dis one, surement."

"Now then, Henri, lend a hand to fix this pack; we've
no time to palaver."

By this time they were joined by several of the
soldiers and a few hunters who had come to see them
start.

"Remember, Joe," said one, "if you don't come back
in three months we'll all come out in a band to seek you."

"If we don't come back in less than that time, what's
left o' us won't be worth seekin' for," said Joe, tightening
the girth of his saddle.

"Put a bit in yer own mouth, Henri," cried another,
as the Canadian arranged his steed's bridle; "yell need
it more than yer horse when ye git 'mong the red
reptiles."

"Vraiment, if mon mout' needs one bit, yours will
need one padlock."

"Now, lads, mount!" cried Joe Blunt as he vaulted
into the saddle.

Dick Varley sprang lightly on his horse, and Henri
made a rush at his steed and hurled his huge frame
across its back with a violence that ought to have
brought it to the ground; but the tall, raw-boned, broad-chested
roan was accustomed to the eccentricities of its
master, and stood the shock bravely. Being appointed
to lead the pack-horse, Henri seized its halter. Then
the three cavaliers shook their reins, and, waving their
hands to their comrades, they sprang into the woods at
full gallop, and laid their course for the "far west."

For some time they galloped side by side in silence,
each occupied with his own thoughts, Crusoe keeping
close beside his master's horse. The two elder hunters
evidently ruminated on the object of their mission and
the prospects of success, for their countenances were
grave and their eyes cast on the ground. Dick Varley,
too, thought upon the Red-men, but his musings were
deeply tinged with the bright hues of a first adventure.
The mountains, the plains, the Indians, the bears, the
buffaloes, and a thousand other objects, danced wildly
before his mind's eye, and his blood careered through
his veins and flushed his forehead as he thought of
what he should see and do, and felt the elastic vigour
of youth respond in sympathy to the light spring of
his active little steed. He was a lover of nature, too,
and his flashing eyes glanced observantly from side to
side as they swept along--sometimes through glades
of forest trees, sometimes through belts of more open
ground and shrubbery; anon by the margin of a stream
or along the shores of a little lake, and often over short
stretches of flowering prairie-land--while the firm,
elastic turf sent up a muffled sound from the tramp of
their mettlesome chargers. It was a scene of wild,
luxuriant beauty, that might almost (one could fancy)
have drawn involuntary homage to its bountiful Creator
from the lips even of an infidel.

After a time Joe Blunt reined up, and they proceeded
at an easy ambling pace. Joe and his friend Henri
were so used to these beautiful scenes that they had
long ceased to be enthusiastically affected by them,
though they never ceased to delight in them.

"I hope," said Joe, "that them sodgers'll go their
ways soon. I've no notion o' them chaps when they're
left at a place wi' nothin' to do but whittle sticks."

"Why, Joe!" exclaimed Dick Varley in a tone of
surprise, "I thought you were admirin' the beautiful
face o' nature all this time, and ye're only thinkin' about
the sodgers. Now, that's strange!"

"Not so strange after all, lad," answered Joe. "When
a man's used to a thing, he gits to admire an' enjoy it
without speakin' much about it. But it is true, boy,
that mankind gits in coorse o' time to think little o'
the blissin's he's used to."

"Oui, c'est vrai!" murmured Henri emphatically.

"Well, Joe Blunt, it may be so, but I'm thankful
I'm not used to this sort o' thing yet," exclaimed
Varley. "Let's have another gallop--so ho! come
along, Crusoe!" shouted the youth as he shook his reins
and flew over a long stretch of prairie on which at that
moment they entered.

Joe smiled as he followed his enthusiastic companion,
but after a short run he pulled up.

"Hold on, youngster," he cried; "ye must larn to do
as ye're bid, lad. It's trouble enough to be among wild
Injuns and wild buffaloes, as I hope soon to be, without
havin' wild comrades to look after."

Dick laughed, and reined in his panting horse. "I'll
be as obedient as Crusoe," he said, "and no one can
beat him."

"Besides," continued Joe, "the horses won't travel
far if we begin by runnin' all the wind out o'
them."

"Wah!" exclaimed Henri, as the led horse became
restive; "I think we must give to him de pack-hoss for
to lead, eh?"

"Not a bad notion, Henri. We'll make that the
penalty of runnin' off again; so look out, Master Dick."

"I'm down," replied Dick, with a modest air, "obedient
as a baby, and won't run off again--till--the
next time. By the way, Joe, how many days' provisions
did ye bring?"

"Two. That's 'nough to carry us to the Great
Prairie, which is three weeks distant from this. Our
own good rifles must make up the difference, and keep
us when we get there."

"And s'pose we neither find deer nor buffalo," suggested
Dick.

"I s'pose we'll have to starve."

"Dat is cumfer'able to tink upon," remarked Henri.

"More comfortable to think o' than to undergo," said
Dick; "but I s'pose there's little chance o' that."

"Well, not much," replied Joe Blunt, patting his
horse's neck, "but d'ye see, lad, ye niver can count for
sartin on anythin'. The deer and buffalo ought to be
thick in them plains at this time--and when the buffalo
are thick they covers the plains till ye can hardly see
the end o' them; but, ye see, sometimes the rascally
Redskins takes it into their heads to burn the prairies,
and sometimes ye find the place that should ha' bin
black wi' buffalo, black as a coal wi' fire for miles an'
miles on end. At other times the Redskins go huntin'
in 'ticlur places, and sweeps them clean o' every hoof
that don't git away. Sometimes, too, the animals seems
to take a scunner at a place, and keeps out o' the way.
But one way or another men gin' rally manage to
scramble through."

"Look yonder, Joe," exclaimed Dick, pointing to the
summit of a distant ridge, where a small black object
was seen moving against the sky, "that's a deer, ain't
it?"

Joe shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazed earnestly
at the object in question. "Ye're right, boy; and by
good luck we've got the wind of him. Cut in an' take
your chance now. There's a long strip o' wood as'll
let ye git close to him."

Before the sentence was well finished Dick and
Crusoe were off at full gallop. For a few hundred
yards they coursed along the bottom of a hollow; then
turning to the right they entered the strip of wood, and
in a few minutes gained the edge of it. Here Dick
dismounted.

"You can't help me here, Crusoe. Stay where you
are, pup, and hold my horse."

Crusoe seized the end of the line, which was fastened
to the horse's nose, in his mouth, and lay down on
a hillock of moss, submissively placing his chin on his
forepaws, and watching his master as he stepped noiselessly
through the wood. In a few minutes Dick
emerged from among the trees, and creeping from bush
to bush, succeeded in getting to within six hundred
yards of the deer, which was a beautiful little antelope.
Beyond the bush behind which he now crouched all was
bare open ground, without a shrub or a hillock large
enough to conceal the hunter. There was a