Читать книгу Wild Western Scenes - J. B. Jones - Страница 8

Table of Contents

The retreat—Joe makes a mysterious discovery—Mary—A disclosure—Supper—Sleep—A cat—Joe's flint—The watch—Mary—The bush—The attack—Joe's musket again—The repulse—The starting rally—The desperate alternative—Relief.

The guidance of Sneak was infallible. Ere long the party reached the vicinity of the river, which was indicated by the tall trees and the valleys, and all apprehensions of immediate danger subsiding, they slackened their pace.

Sneak, though not so much distressed as the panting horses, fell back, and entered into conversation with Boone relative to the probable operations of the Indians, while Joe continued some little distance in advance, apparently wrapped in contemplation of the recent scenes that had so much astonished him. When he was within about a hundred paces of his long-wished for home, he thought he saw an object moving about in front of the palisade. He checked his pony for an instant; but convinced that the savages could not possibly have arrived already, he again whipped onward, inclined to believe it to be nothing more than a phantom of the brain. But when he proceeded a few stops farther, his pony stopped suddenly and snorted, while a being, which he could not exactly define, was distinctly seen to rise up and glide swiftly out of view round the inclosure.

"Who's that!" shouted he, and at the same time looking eagerly back at his companions, whose near approach induced him to maintain his position.

"Go on, Joe! What's the matter?" remarked Glenn, the head of his steed having passed over the back of the pony as he stood across the path and blocked up the way.

"I beg to be excused! As sure as I'm alive, I saw an Indian run round towards the gate!" replied Joe.

"Foller me," said Sneak, poising his spear in the air, and advancing.

"Thank Heaven, it's you!" exclaimed the mysterious object, coming forward fearlessly, on hearing the men's voices.

"Dod rot your cowardly skin!" said Sneak, after looking at the approaching form and turning to Joe, "how dare you to be frightened at sich a thing as that—a female woman!"

"It was not me—it was my pony, you great—"

"What?" asked Sneak, sharply, turning abruptly round, as they paused at the gate.

"You great long buffalo tapeworm!" said Joe, alighting on the side of the pony opposite to his quarrelsome companion, and then going forward and opening the gate in silence.

"What brings thee hither at this late hour, Mary?" inquired Glenn, on recognizing the ferryman's daughter.

"Nothing—only—I"—stammered the abashed girl, who had expected only to see our hero and his man.

"Speak out, lass, if you have any thing important to say," remarked Boone, when they entered the inclosure, placing his hand encouragingly on the girl's head.

Mary still hesitated, and Boone was no little puzzled to conjecture rightly what it was she intended to impart; but he was convinced it must be something of no ordinary nature that would induce a maiden of reputed timidity to leave her father's hut at a late hour of the night.

"Now tell me, Mary, what it was you wished to say," remarked Glenn, addressing her in a playful tone, when they were seated in the house, and a lamp suspended against the wall was lighted.

"I did not expect to find Mr. Boone and Sneak with you—and now—"

"What?" inquired Glenn, much moved by her paleness, and the throbbing of her breast, which now seemed to be gradually subsiding.

"Nothing—only you and Joe are both safe now," she replied, with her eyes cast down.

"Were we in danger? How are we safe?" inquired Glenn, regarding her words as highly mysterious.

"Everybody is safe where Mr. Boone is," replied Mary.

"But what was the danger, my pretty lass?" inquired Boone, playfully taking her hand.

"Why Posin, one of father's boatmen—"

"Speak on, lass—I know Posin to be an unfeeling wretch, and a half-blood Indian; but he is also known to be a great coward, and surely no harm could have been feared from him," said Boone.

"But I heard him speaking to himself when I was filling my pitcher at the spring, and he was standing behind some rocks, where he couldn't see me, and didn't think any one was within hearing."

"What said he?" inquired Glenn, impatiently, and much interested in the anticipated disclosure, for he had often remarked the satanic expression of Posin's features.

"These were his words: 'The Osages will be here before to-morrow morning. If Raven, the chief, will go halves with me, I'll tell him how much money the young men have, and help to get it!' Such were his very words!" continued Mary, her dark eyes assuming a brightness, and her voice a boldness unwonted on ordinary occasions, as she proceeded: "He then started off towards the prairie with his rifle, and nobody has seen him since. I told father about it but he wouldn't believe there was any danger; and when night came, he told me not to be uneasy, but to sleep like a good girl. I did lie down, for I never like to disobey my father; but I couldn't sleep, and so I got up and came here to wait till you returned, to tell you all about it."

"Thanks, Mary—I shall never forget your kindness," said Glenn, as much affected by her simplicity and gentleness as at the threatened danger.

"You're a sweet lass; God bless you, Mary!" said Boone, kissing her smooth forehead. "Now run home and go to sleep, child; we will be on our guard. As for you, your father is respected by all the Indians, and therefore your own safety will be best secured under his protection."

"I will accompany you to the hut," said Glenn, as the girl bid them good night, and was about departing.

"Oh no—I'm used to going alone," said Mary, promptly declining the proposition.

"She speaks truly, and it is unnecessary," said Boone, as the maiden bowed and disappeared.

The party then fastened the gate and secured themselves within the stone house. Joe petitioned Glenn to permit him to bring in the dogs, and Sneak seconded the motion, proposing to lie with them before the fire.

After a hearty repast, Boone and Glenn retired to their couches in quest of repose, so much needed after the exercises of the day. Nor was it long before they were steeped in that deep and solemn slumber which throws a mysterious veil over the senses, obscuring from the vision all objects of an unpleasant nature, relieving the mind of the cares that may have pressed heavily upon it during the day, and at the same time by the gentlest process refreshing and reinvigorating the weary faculties for renewed exertion.

Silence brooded over the fireside scene. The lamp threw a dim ray around its small flame unruffled by the confined and motionless air. The fawn was coiled in a sleeping posture under its master's bed, while the kitten purred upon its velvet back. On one side of the hearth lay Sneak, his head pillowed upon one of the hounds, while the other slept against his back. Joe was the only one present who had not fallen under the magic influence of slumber. Hitherto he had yielded to a more powerful impulse—that of the appetite—and he now sat upon a low stool on the corner of the hearth opposite to Sneak, his back leaning against the side of the fireplace, holding in his left hand a pewter platter, and in his right a rib of the deer he had killed, well cooked, which he raised to his mouth occasionally, and sometimes at very long intervals, between the approaches of the sleep which was gradually overpowering him. Once, when his eyelids sank heavily and closed, and the platter rested on his lap, and his right hand, still clenching the savoury bone, fell powerless at his side—Ringwood, in his hard breathing, chanced to snuff up some ashes that caused him to sneeze. Joe started at the sound, and after rolling his eyes round once or twice and finding all right, raised the bone once more to his mouth and set his jaws again in motion.

"Dod, man! are you going to chaw all night?" asked Sneak, awakened by the motion of Ringwood, and looking up at the face of Joe in astonishment.

"I had nothing to eat all day," replied Joe, fishing for a cracker floating in the greasy platter.

"But ain't you a-going to sleep some?" asked Sneak, half unconsciously, the final utterance smothered in a guttural rumble as he again sank back on his canine pillow.

"Yes, when I've got my supper," replied Joe lazily, and indistinctly, with one end of the bone in his mouth. But it was not long before he again nodded, and his hand with the bone in it was once more lowered softly down at his side. He was soon palpably fast asleep. And now the kitten, having finished its nap, came with a noiseless tread to the comfortable fire, humming its low unvaried song; and, rubbing its soft side against the head of Jowler, finally crouched down before the embers, with its feet drawn under it, and its eyes apparently watching the brilliant sparks that ever and anon flew up the chimney. But ere long it scented the well-flavoured viand that dangled in the vicinity, and after casting a glance at the face of Joe, and being satisfied that he was insensible to all external objects, stealthily began to gnaw the end of the bone that rested on the hearth. As long as it had in mind the fear of interruption, it was permitted to feast moderately; but when its ravenous propensity urged it to more active and vigorous operations, Joe once more opened his eyes, and after looking slowly around, but not down, again attempted to raise the rib to a is mouth.

"Hello!—augh! scat!" he cried, leaping up violently.

His first impression was that the Indians, about whom he had been dreaming, were upon him; his next that a rattlesnake clung to his finger; and finally, finding it to be the kitten bestowing some scratches on the hand that sought to bereave it of its prize, he uttered the latter exclamation, first in rage; but pleased that his condition was no worse, soon after called the poor frightened pet to him, and with one or two caresses gave it the bone, and then resigned himself to unrestrained slumber.

They were all aroused in the morning by the snorting of the horses without, and the growling and sharp yelping of the hounds within.

"What's the matter with the horses and dogs, Joe?" inquired Glenn, rising from his couch.

"I don't know what ails the foolish things. I know that I fed the horses; and as for Ringwood and Jowler, I'll soon kick them out. Let go my ankle!" exclaimed he, turning to Sneak, who caught hold of him as he rose to approach the door.

"Don't open the door yet," said Boone, who had been listening to the sounds outside, and then continued in an under tone, addressing Glenn: "They are certainly here; but whether or not with an evil intent I am unable to determine."

"Oh goodness! It's the Indians!" exclaimed Joe, yielding to sudden alarm, having momentarily forgotten the anticipated danger when he proposed opening the door.

"Keep your mouth shet!" said Sneak, listening with his ear placed near the floor behind the door.

"How many do you make them out to be?" inquired Boone, when Sneak had occupied his position a few minutes.

"It's all right!" replied Sneak, eagerly; "there is only two or three of 'em, and old Roughgrove's out there talking to 'em! How do you open the door? Let me out!"

The door was opened with reluctance and cautiously by Joe, and Sneak going foremost all the party sallied out into the fresh air. A snow of several inches in depth had fallen, and within the circle enclosed by the palisade not a single track was to be seen. But when the gate was drawn back, several Osage Indians were observed standing a few paces distant with their tomahawks hung in their belts and instead of exhibiting any symptoms of hostility, they approached smiling, and extended the hand of friendship to the whites.

"How do!" exclaimed the leader, in imperfect English, grasping the hands held out in salutation, while his actions were imitated by the others in silence.

"I'm very well, I thank you," said Joe, bowing and retreating backwards when they accosted him, unwilling to venture his hand within their reach, as Glenn and the rest did.

"Shake hands with them, you silly fellow," said Boone, "or they will think you are an enemy."

"Here, Mr. Osage!" said Joe, his teeth chattering as he extended his hand; and the Indian, perceiving his alarm, squeezed it so tightly for merriment that he was on the eve of crying out; and when liberated, he sprang violently back, much inclined to run away, to their great amusement.

"That is Raven, the chief," remarked Roughgrove to Glenn, pointing to the one that first addressed them, and who was now conversing with Boone, whom he seemed to know, or to have been familiar with his character, from his animated gestures and the excited expression of his features. Sneak stood in silence, a convenient distance apart, apparently gleaning intelligence from the conference. The chief (as are the members of this tribe generally) was extremely dark, tall, athletic, and wore a ferocious aspect, while the few followers with him manifested a curiosity to examine the apparel and accoutrements of the whites, but without betraying any signs of an evil disposition.

"Are there not more of them in the vicinity?" inquired Glenn.

"Yes—quite a large party," said Roughgrove; "but Raven said he did not wish to intimidate the whites by showing them, without first extending the hand of friendship himself. They profess to entertain the kindest feeling towards us, and propose through their chiefs to traffic their furs and moccasins for such goods as we may be disposed to give them in return."

"I do not see your oarsman, Posin," remarked Glenn, the disclosure of Mary occurring to him—and then accosted Mary herself, who now joined them with her eyes cast down in apparent bashfulness.

"His absence is a mystery to me," replied the old ferryman, "though I do not attach the same importance to it that Mary does."

"Father"—uttered his daughter, and pausing in mingled timidity and dread, as if some undefinable forebodings of harm oppressed her.

"I'll be shot if I understand all this to my liking," said Sneak, staring at the great number of moccasin tracks that had been made round the enclosure, which truly indicated that more than the four chiefs present had been prowling there before daylight.

"Hush, Mr. Sneak!" said Joe; "they hear every word you say."

"Jest let me alone a minute," replied Sneak, getting down on his knees and examining the various foot-prints with great minuteness. When he rose he made some signs to Boone, which the others did not comprehend.

At this juncture several other Indians were seen to approach from the valley above, where the party had encamped. These painted visitors likewise came forward with sundry nods and gesticulations of friendship, at the same time exhibiting several furred articles of curious workmanship, and a few precious stones, as samples of what they wished to barter. A short conference then ensued between them and the head chief, which terminated in a pressing invitation for the whites to accompany them to their encampment.

"You may all do as you like—I shall stay here," said Joe, stepping back towards the gate.

"You are a coward, Joe!" said Glenn; "you may remain, however, to prevent them from pilfering any thing while we are away," and he turned towards the Indians for the purpose of accompanying them.

"Stay!" said Mary, in a distinct and startling tone.

"Why should we not go? We are armed, and could as easily withstand an attack in their encampment as elsewhere. If it be their determination to do us harm, their numbers will enable them to accomplish their purpose notwithstanding all the opposition we can offer," said Glenn.

"There is no danger," said Roughgrove, endeavouring to extricate his arm from the grasp of Mary, who strenuously held him back.

"I have a secret for thee, child," said Boone, beckoning the trembling girl to him.

"Oh, what is it? You will not let him—I mean my father, go among them, will you? You know that Posin is away—perhaps in some ambush—"

"Hush child!" said Boone, in a low tone, and employing gestures that led the savages to believe he was quieting her fears, while he whispered a message in her ear that had a singular effect. Though very pale, the girl now smiled playfully, and returning to her father, said, in tones so low that no one else could hear, "Father, he says you must instantly cross the river for assistance—I will be safe, under his protection, till you return."

"I'll do it!" replied Roughgrove, setting off towards the ferry. But when he departed, the chief evinced much anger, and was only appeased by the assurance that the old ferryman was gone for some article desired by his child, and would return ere long.

The footprint which had so much attracted Sneak was recognized by some peculiar marks to be that of Posin, and when the discovery was communicated to Boone, he at once surmised that danger lurked in the vicinity; and the subsequent impatience on the part of the Indians to urge the whites to visit their camp, convinced him that some foul treachery had been concocted between the half-breed and the savages. He had also caught a glimpse of several armed Indians behind some bushes at no great distance from where he stood, notwithstanding Raven had asserted that the rest of his party were in their encampment; and when the chief grew angry, and almost menacing, on the withdrawal of the old ferryman, he resolved to adopt the surest means of safety without delay. No sooner was the ferry-boat seen to shoot out from the land than Boone motioned the whites to enter the inclosure. As they turned towards the gate, the chief made a movement to intercept them; but Boone drew forth a brace of pistols that had been concealed under his hunting-shirt, one of which he pointed at Raven, and with the other intimidated the rest who had advanced likewise, until his friends were all within the palisade.