The Buffalo Runners Part 19

"That's odd," he said to Slowfoot, who was seated opposite to her lord sc.r.a.ping the remnants of something out of a tin kettle with the point of a scalping-knife. "Somebody's gun gone off by accident, I suppose. I hear some one at our fire. Look out, Slowfoot, and ask what has happened."

Slowfoot finished the sc.r.a.ping of the kettle before obeying; then lifted the curtain that closed the opening of their tent, and peeped out.

"It is Kateegoose--loading his gun, I think."

La Certe got up, with a sigh of regret at the necessity for exertion, and, lifting the curtain-door, stepped out.

"What are they firing at, Kateegoose?"

The Indian did not know. Some one, he thought, might have let off his gun by accident. He thought it wise, however, to be ready, and had just sent the ramrod down the barrel of his gun to make sure that it was loaded with ball. To make still surer that all was ready, the Indian shook the priming out of the pan of his gun, wiped it, and re-primed.

Then he laid the weapon down by his side, and resumed the pipe which he had apparently laid down to enable him to perform these operations more conveniently, and, at the same time, with more safety.

At that moment Dechamp walked smartly towards the fire in front of La Certe's tent.

"Does Kateegoose know who fired that shot?" he asked with a keen glance, for his suspicions had been aroused.

"Some one over there," answered the Indian languidly, as he pointed in the right direction.

"It does not need a medicine-man to tell me that," said Dechamp, sternly. "I heard the shot, and saw the smoke. Have you any idea who fired it, La Certe?"

"I have not," replied the half-breed. "I was lying in my tent when I heard it. Kateegoose was smoking beside the fire. We both thought it was an accident, or some one trying his gun, till we heard the shouting and running. Then I jumped up, seized my gun, and sprang out to see what it was all about. I found Kateegoose equally on the _qui vive_.

He was shoving his ramrod down to make sure his gun was loaded when you came up. What is it all about?"

"Only that the horse of Okematan has been shot under him by some one, and that there is a would-be murderer in the camp."

"Okematan! Has the traitor ventured to return?" exclaimed Kateegoose, with an expression of surprise that was very unusual in an Indian.

"Ay, he has ventured," responded Dechamp, "and some one has ventured to fire at him with intent to kill. By good luck he was a bad shot. He missed the man, though he hit and killed the horse. But I shall find the rascal out before long--he may depend on that!"

So saying, the commandant left the spot.

"Do you know anything about this?" asked La Certe, turning full on the Indian.

"Kateegoose is not a medicine-man. He cannot be in two places at once.

He knows nothing."

For a sly man La Certe was wonderfully credulous. He believed the Indian, and, returning to his tent, lay down again to finish the interrupted pipe.

"Kateegoose was trying his gun to see if it was loaded," he said to his better half.

"That's a lie," returned Slowfoot, with that straightforward simplicity of diction for which she was famous.

"Indeed! What, then, was he doing, my Slowfoot?"

"He was _loading_ his gun--not trying it."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure that our little child loves tobacco?"

"Well, I suppose you are. At any rate, the child often asks you for a pipe, and gets it too. Hm! if Kateegoose fired that shot he must be a bad man. But our chief is sure to find it out--and--it is no business of mine. Fetch me the tobacco, Slowfoot."

That same morning, Archie Sinclair was seated beside his brother, Little Bill, in the tent that was shared by Fred Jenkins and several young half-breeds. He was alone with his brother, Jenkins having gone out with the blunderbuss to a.s.sist, if need be, in the defence of the camp.

He was manufacturing a small bow for his brother to amuse himself with while he should be away "seein' the fun," as he said, with the hunters.

The instant the sailor left, however, he looked at Billie mysteriously and said, in a low voice--

"Little Bill, although you're not good for much with your poor little body, you've got a splendid headpiece, and are amazing at giving advice.

I want advice just now very bad. You've heard what they've all been saying about this shot that was fired at Okematan, and some o' the men say they think it must have been Kateegoose that did it. Now, Billie, I am _sure_ that it was Kateegoose that did it."

"Oh!" exclaimed Little Bill, making his eyes and mouth into three round O's. "How d'ye know that? Did you see him do it?"

"No--it's that that bothers me. If I had seen him do it I would have gone straight and told Dechamp, but I didn't quite see him, you see. I was in Lamartine's cart at the time, rummagin' about for a piece o' wood to make this very bow, an' the moment I heard the shot I peeped out, an'

saw--nothing!"

"That wasn't much," remarked Little Bill, innocently.

"Ay, but I soon saw something," continued Archie, with increasing solemnity; "I saw Kateegoose coming slinking round among the carts, as if he wanted not to be seen. I saw him only for a moment--gliding past like a ghost."

"It's a serious thing," said Little Bill, musing gravely, "to charge a man with tryin' to kill another man, if that's all you've got to tell, for you know it's a way the Red-skins have of always glidin' about as if they was for ever after mischief."

"But that's not all, Little Bill," returned his brother, "for I'm almost certain that I saw a little smoke comin' out o' the muzzle of his gun as he pa.s.sed--though I couldn't exactly swear to it."

Archie had overrated his brother's powers in the way of advice, for, although they talked the matter over for some time, they failed to arrive at any satisfactory conclusion.

Meanwhile Okematan, having entered the camp, was met by Dechamp, and led by him to a retired part.

"You have an enemy here, Okematan," he said, inquiringly.

"It would seem so," returned the Indian gravely. "Friends do not shoot each other's horses; and if the poor horse had not tossed his head when the shot was fired, his rider would have bit the dust."

"I fear it looks something like that," said Dechamp; "but I hope Okematan believes that _I_ know nothing of the matter--nor can I tell who the cowardly villain is that did it."

"Okematan knows that," answered the Indian, sternly. "No half-breed fired the shot."

"There is no Indian in the camp but Kateegoose," rejoined the other, quickly; "surely you don't think that a man of your own tribe would try to kill you?"

"I know not. Kateegoose hates me. No other man in the camp hates me."

"It is strange--unaccountable," returned Dechamp. "If the Indian did it, he shall forfeit his horse and leave the camp. But tell me,"--here the half-breed commandant turned a searching gaze on his companion, "why did Okematan leave us, and spend all night alone on the prairie? Did he spend the night in conversation with the buffalo--or in the company of his departed forefathers?"

No sign of surprise, or of any other emotion, was visible on the countenance of the Red-man as he replied: "Okematan went out to meet a party of his tribe on the war-path."

Dechamp was not so successful in concealing his own surprise at this answer.

"Does the Cree chief," he asked, with something of doubt in his tone and look, "choose the hours of night to consult with warriors about secret a.s.saults and surprises on friends?"

"He does not!" answered the Indian, decidedly but calmly--though he was unquestionably astonished at being questioned so pointedly and correctly as to his recent proceedings, and felt that he must have been followed.

He was not the man, however, to betray his feelings, or to commit himself in any way; therefore he took refuge in silence.