Robert Michael Ballantyne
The Dog Crusoe and his Master
“The Peigans are not wise men, they tell lies to the traders. I will tell you that you are a war-party, and that you are only a few warriors sent out to spy the traders’ camp. You have also two Pale-face prisoners in your camp. You cannot deceive me. It is useless to try. Now, conduct me to your camp. My object is not war; it is peace. I will speak with your chiefs about trading with the white men, and we will smoke the pipe of peace. Are my words good?”
Despite their proverbial control of muscle, these Indians could not conceal their astonishment at hearing so much of their affairs thus laid bare, so they said that the Pale-face chief was wise, that he must be a great medicine-man, and that what he said was all true except about the white men. They had never seen any Pale-faces, and knew nothing whatever about those he spoke of.
This was a terrible piece of news to poor Dick, and at first his heart fairly sank within him, but by degrees he came to be more hopeful. He concluded that if these men told lies in regard to one thing they would do it in regard to another, and perhaps they might have some strong reason for denying any knowledge of Joe and Henri.
The Indians now packed up the buffalo robes on which they had slept, and the mouthful of provisions they had taken with them.
“I don’t believe a word of what they say about your friends,” said Cameron to Dick in a low tone while the Indians were thus engaged. “Depend upon it they hope to hide them till they can send to the settlements and get a ransom, or till they get an opportunity of torturing them to death before their women and children when they get back to their own village. But we’ll baulk them, my friend, do not fear.”
The Indians were soon ready to start, for they were lumbered with marvellously little camp equipage. In less than half an hour after their discovery they were running like deer ahead of the cavalcade in the direction of the Peigan camp.
Chapter Nineteen.
Adventures with the Peigans—Crusoe does good service as a discoverer—The savages outwitted—The rescue
A run of twenty miles brought the travellers to a rugged defile in the mountains, from which they had a view of a beautiful valley of considerable extent. During the last two days a steady thaw had been rapidly melting away the snow, so that it appeared only here and there in the landscape in dazzling patches. At the distance of about half a mile from where they halted to breathe the horses before commencing the descent into this vale, several thin wreaths of smoke were seen rising above the trees.
“Is that your camp?” inquired Cameron, riding up to the Indian runners who stood in a group in front, looking as fresh after their twenty miles’ run as though they had only had a short walk.
To this they answered in the affirmative, adding that there were about two hundred Peigans there.
It might have been thought that thirty men would have hesitated to venture to attack so large a number as two hundred; but it had always been found in the experience of Indian life, that a few resolute white men well armed were more than a match for ten times their number of Indians. And this arose not so much from the superior strength or agility of the whites over their red foes, as from that bull-dog courage and utter recklessness of their lives in combat,—qualities which the crafty savage can neither imitate nor understand. The information was received with perfect indifference by most of the trappers, and with contemptuous laughter by some, for a large number of Cameron’s men were wild, evil-disposed fellows, who would have as gladly taken the life of an Indian as a buffalo.
Just as the word was given to resume the march, Dick Varley rode up to Cameron, and said in a somewhat anxious tone—“D’ye obsarve, sir, that one o’ the Red-skins has gone off ahead o’ his comrades?”
“I see that, Master Dick, and it was a mistake of mine not to have stopped him, but he was gone too far before I observed it, and I thought it better to appear unconcerned. We must push on, though, and give him as short time as possible to talk with his comrades in the camp.”
The trappers pressed forward accordingly at a gallop, and were soon in front of the clump of trees amongst which the Peigans were encamped. Their approach had evidently spread great alarm among them, for there was a good deal of bustle and running to and fro, but by the time the trappers had dismounted and advanced in a body on foot, the savages had resumed their usual quiet dignity of appearance, and were seated calmly round their fires with their bows and arrows beside them. There were no tents, no women or children, and the general aspect of the men showed Cameron conclusively that his surmise about their being a war-party was correct.
A council was immediately called; the trappers ranged themselves on one side of the council-fire and the Indians on the other. Meanwhile, our friend Crusoe had been displaying considerable irritability against the Indians, and he would certainly have attacked the whole two hundred single-handed if he had not been ordered by his master to lie still, but never in his life before had Crusoe obeyed with such a bad grace. He bristled and whined in a low tremulous tone, and looked imploringly at Dick as if for permission to fly at them.
“The Pale-faced traders are glad to meet with the Peigans,” began Cameron, who determined to make no allusion to his knowledge that they were a war-party, “for they wish to be friends with all the children of the woods and prairies. They wish to trade with them; to exchange blankets, and guns, and beads, and other goods which the Peigans require, for furs of animals which the Pale-faces require.”
“Ho! ho!” exclaimed the Indians; which expression might be translated, “Hear, hear.”
“But,” continued Cameron, “we wish to have no war. We wish to see the hatchet buried, and to see all the Red-men and the white men smoking the pipe of peace, and hunting like brothers.”
The “Ho-ho-ing” at this was very emphatic.
“Now,” resumed the trader, “the Peigans have got two prisoners—two Pale-faces—in their camp, and, as we cannot be on good terms while our brothers are detained, we have come to ask for them, and to present some gifts to the Peigans.”
To this there was no “Ho” at all, but a prolonged silence, which was at length interrupted by a tall chief stepping forward to address the trappers.
“What the Pale-face chief has said is good,” began the Indian. “His words are wise, and his heart is not double. The Red-men are willing to smoke the pipe of peace, and to hunt with all men as brothers, but they cannot do it while many of their scalps are hanging in the lodges of their enemies and fringing the robes of the warriors. The Peigans must have vengeance; then they will make peace.”
After a short pause he continued—“The chief is wrong when he says there are Pale-faces in the Peigan camp. The Peigans are not at war with the Pale-faces; neither have they seen any on their march. The camp is open. Let the Pale-faces look round and see that what we say is true.”
The chief waved his hand towards his warriors as he concluded, as if to say, “Search amongst them. There are no Pale-faces there.”
Cameron now spoke to Dick in a low tone. “They speak confidently,” he said, “and I fear greatly that your poor comrades have either been killed or conveyed away from the camp and hidden among the mountains, in which case, even though they should not be far off, it would be next to impossible to find them, especially when such a band o’ rascals is near, compelling us to keep together. But I’ll try what a little tempting them with goods will do. At any rate we shan’t give in without a scuffle.”
It now, for the first time, flashed across Dick Varley that there was something more than he imagined in Crusoe’s restless anxiety, which had not in the least abated, and the idea of making use of him now occurred to his mind.
“I’ve a notion that I’ll settle this matter in a shorter time than you think,” he said hurriedly, “if you’ll agree to try what threatening will do.”
The trader looked grave and undecided. “I never resort to that except as a last hope,” he answered, “but I’ve a good deal of confidence in your prudence, what would you advise?”
Dick and the trader whispered a few minutes together, while some of the men, in order to show the Indians how perfectly unconcerned they were, and how ready for anything, took out their pipes and began to smoke. Both parties were seated on the ground, and during this interval the Indians also held eager discussion.
At length Cameron stood up, and said to his men in a quiet tone, “Be ready, lads, for instant action; when I give the word ‘Up,’ spring to your feet and cock your guns, but don’t fire a shot till you get the word.” He then stepped forward and said—
“The Peigan warriors are double-tongued; they know that they have hid the Pale-face prisoners. We do not wish to quarrel, but if they are not delivered up at once, the Pale-faces and the Peigans will not be friends.”
Upon this the Indian chief 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.
Chapter Twenty.
New plans—Our travellers join the fur-traders, and see many strange things—A curious fight—A narrow escape, and a prisoner taken
Not long after the events related in the last chapter, our four friends, Dick, and Joe, and Henri, and Crusoe, agreed to become for a time members of Walter Cameron’s band of trappers. Joe joined because one of the objects which the traders had in view was similar to his own mission, namely, the promoting of peace among the various Indian tribes of the mountains and plains to the west. Joe, therefore, thought it a good opportunity of travelling with a band of men who could secure him a favourable hearing from the Indian tribes they might chance to meet with in the course of their wanderings. Besides, as the traders carried about a large supply of goods with them, he could easily replenish his own nearly exhausted pack by hunting wild animals and exchanging their skins for such articles as he might require.
Dick joined because it afforded him an opportunity of seeing the wild, majestic scenery of the Rocky Mountains, and shooting the big-horned sheep which abounded there, and the grizzly “bars,” as Joe named them, or “Caleb,” as they were more frequently styled by Henri and the other men.
Henri joined because it was agreeable to the inclination of his own rollicking, blundering, floundering, crashing disposition, and because he would have joined anything that had been joined by the other two.
Crusoe’s reason for joining was single, simple, easy to be expressed, easy to be understood, and commendable. He joined—because Dick did.
The very day after the party left the encampment where Dick had shot the grizzly bear and the deer, he had the satisfaction of bringing down a splendid specimen of the big-horned sheep. It came suddenly out from a gorge of the mountain, and stood upon the giddy edge of a tremendous precipice, at a distance of about two hundred and fifty yards.
“You could not hit that,” said a trapper to Henri, who was rather fond of jeering him about his short-sightedness.
“Non!” cried Henri, who didn’t see the animal in the least; “say you dat? ve shall see;” and he let fly with a promptitude that amazed his comrades, and with a result that drew from them peals of laughter.
“Why, you have missed the mountain!”
“Oh, non! dat am eempossoble.”
It was true, nevertheless, for his ball had been arrested in its flight by the stem of a tree not twenty yards before him.
While the shot was yet ringing, and before the laugh above referred to had pealed forth, Dick Varley fired, and the animal, springing wildly into the air, fell down the precipice, and was almost dashed to pieces at their feet.
This Rocky Mountain or big-horned sheep was a particularly large and fine one, but, being a patriarch of the flock, was not well suited for food. It was considerably larger in size than the domestic sheep, and might be described as somewhat resembling a deer in the body and a ram in the head. Its horns were the chief point of interest to Dick; and, truly, they were astounding! Their enormous size was out of all proportion to the animal’s body, and they curved backwards and downwards, and then curled up again in a sharp point. These creatures frequent the inaccessible heights of the Rocky Mountains, and are difficult to approach. They have a great fondness for salt, and pay regular visits to the numerous caverns of these mountains, which are encrusted with a saline substance.
Walter Cameron now changed his intention of proceeding to the eastward, as he found the country not so full of beaver at that particular spot as he had anticipated. He therefore turned towards the west, penetrated into the interior of the mountains, and took a considerable sweep through the lovely valleys on their western slopes.
The expedition which this enterprising fur-trader was conducting was one of the first that ever penetrated these wild regions in search of furs. The ground over which they travelled was quite new to them, and having no guide they just moved about at haphazard, encamping on the margin of every stream or river on which signs of the presence of beaver were discovered, and setting their traps.
Beaver-skins at this time were worth 25 shillings a piece in the markets of civilised lands, and in the Snake country, through which our friends were travelling, thousands of them were to be had from the Indians for trinkets and baubles that were scarce worth a farthing. A beaver-skin could be procured from the Indians for a brass finger ring or a penny looking-glass. Horses were also so numerous that one could be procured for an axe or a knife.
Let not the reader, however, hastily conclude that the traders cheated the Indians in this traffic, though the profits were so enormous. The ring or the axe was indeed a trifle to the trader, but the beaver-skin and the horse were equally trifles to the savage, who could procure as many of them as he chose with very little trouble, while the ring and the axe were in his estimation of priceless value. Besides, be it remembered, to carry that ring and that axe to the far distant haunts of the Red-man cost the trader weeks and months of constant toil, trouble, anxiety, and, alas! too frequently cost him his life! The state of trade is considerably modified in these regions at the present day. It is not more justly conducted, for, in respect of the value of goods given for furs, it was justly conducted then, but time and circumstances have tended more to equalise the relative values of articles of trade.
The snow which had prematurely fallen had passed away, and the trappers now found themselves wandering about in a country so beautiful and a season so delightful, that it would have seemed to them a perfect paradise, but for the savage tribes who hovered about them, and kept them ever on the qui vive.
They soon passed from the immediate embrace of stupendous heights and dark gorges to a land of sloping ridges, which divided the country into a hundred luxuriant vales, composed part of woodland and part of prairie. Through these numerous rivers and streams flowed deviously, beautifying the landscape and enriching the land. There were also many lakes of all sizes, and these swarmed with fish, while in some of them were found the much-sought-after and highly esteemed beaver. Salt springs and hot springs of various temperatures abounded here, and many of the latter were so hot that meat could be boiled in them. Salt existed in all directions in abundance, and of good quality. A sulphurous spring was also discovered, bubbling out from the base of a perpendicular rock three hundred feet high, the waters of which were dark-blue, and tasted like gunpowder. In short, the land presented every variety of feature calculated to charm the imagination and delight the eye.
It was a mysterious land, too, for broad rivers burst in many places from the earth, flowed on a short space, and then disappeared as if by magic into the earth from which they rose. Natural bridges spanned the torrents in many places, and some of these were so correctly formed that it was difficult to believe they had not been built by the hand of man. They often appeared opportunely to our trappers, and saved them the trouble and danger of fording rivers. Frequently the whole band would stop in silent wonder and awe as they listened to the rushing of waters under their feet, as if another world of streams, and rapids, and cataracts were flowing below the crust of earth on which they stood. Some considerable streams were likewise observed to gush from the faces of precipices, some twenty or thirty feet from their summits, while on the top no water was to be seen.
Wild berries of all kinds were found in abundance, and wild vegetables, besides many nutritious roots. Among other fish splendid salmon were found in the lakes and rivers; and animal life swarmed on hill and dale. Woods and valleys, plains, and ravines, teemed with it. On every plain the red-deer grazed in herds by the banks of lake and stream; wherever there were clusters of poplar and elder-trees and saplings, the beaver was seen nibbling industriously with his sharp teeth, and committing as much havoc in the forests as if they had been armed with the woodman’s axe; otters sported in the eddies; racoons sat in the tree-tops; the marten, the black fox, and the wolf, prowled in the woods in quest of prey; mountain sheep and goats browsed on the rocky ridges, and badgers peeped from their holes.
Here, too, the wild horse sprang snorting and dishevelled from his mountain retreats—with flourishing mane and tail, spanking step, and questioning gaze,—and thundered away over the plains and valleys, while the rocks echoed back his shrill neigh. The huge, heavy, ungainly elk, or moose-deer, trotted away from the travellers with speed equal to that of the mustang. Elks seldom gallop; their best speed is attained at the trot. Bears, too, black, and brown, and grizzly, roamed about everywhere.
So numerous were all these creatures, that on one occasion the hunters of the party brought in six wild horses, three bears, four elks, and thirty red-deer; having shot them all a short distance ahead of the main body, and almost without diverging from the line of march. And this was a matter of every-day occurrence—as it had need to be, considering the number of mouths that had to be filled.
The feathered tribes were not less numerous. Chief among these were eagles and vultures of uncommon size, the wild goose, wild duck, and the majestic swan.
In the midst of such profusion the trappers spent a happy time of it, when not molested by the savages, but they frequently lost a horse or two in consequence of the expertness of these thievish fellows. They often wandered, however, for days at a time without seeing an Indian, and at such times they enjoyed to the full the luxuries with which a bountiful God had blessed these romantic regions.
Dick Varley was almost wild with delight. It was his first excursion into the remote wilderness; he was young, healthy, strong, and romantic; and it is a question whether his or his dog’s heart, or that of the noble wild horse he bestrode, bounded most with joy at the glorious sights, and sounds, and influences by which they were surrounded. It would have been perfection had it not been for the frequent annoyance and alarms caused by the Indians.
Alas! alas! that we who write and read about those wondrous scenes should have to condemn our own species as the most degraded of all the works of the Creator there! Yet so it is. Man, exercising his reason and conscience in the path of love and duty which his Creator points out, is God’s noblest work; but man, left to the freedom of his own fallen will, sinks morally lower than the beasts that perish. Well may every Christian wish and pray that the name and the gospel of the blessed Jesus may be sent speedily to the dark places of the earth; for you may read of, and talk about, but you cannot conceive the fiendish wickedness and cruelty which causes tearless eyes to glare, and maddened hearts to burst, in the lands of the heathen.
