Frank in the Mountains Part 12

"Which side whipped?" asked Archie, at length.

"Indian," replied the Black Fox.

"How do you know?"

"O, Indian always whip white man."

"No, Indian doesn't. He gets thrashed sometimes, and badly, too. He couldn't whip the trappers who set fire to that camp, a little while ago."

The young savage did not appear to be in a mood to discuss the matter, and Archie, with his feelings worked up to the highest pitch of excitement, twisted about uneasily, and waited to see if there were any prisoners brought in. The wounded Indians, in the meantime came in rapidly, and in a few minutes there were so many disabled warriors lying about him, that Archie began to believe that the fight had resulted in a decided victory for the defenders of the fort. Among the wounded savages was one who attracted Archie's attention; and if he had been a white man, or even a friendly Indian, he would have felt the keenest sympathy for his distress. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, powerful-looking fellow, badly injured, if one might judge by the looks of his face, and the pain occasioned by his wounds seemed to be so intense that he could neither sit, lie, nor stand still, even for a moment. He would seat himself on the ground, and rock back and forth for awhile, then stretch out at full length, and thrash about uneasily, and finally spring to his feet, and look around for another resting-place. At length he walked rapidly toward the Black Fox, who, thinking that it might not be quite safe to trust himself within reach of a man driven nearly frantic with pain, jumped up, and retreated a few steps. This seemed to be just what the wounded man wanted; for he took possession of the young Indian's blanket, and, wrapping it around his head, lay down upon the ground.

If the owner of the blanket was angry, he did not show it. He stood looking at the warrior a moment, and then an idea occurred to him which he announced to Archie in his broken English. There was no danger that the latter would escape while the Indians were all around him, he said, and he would go to the village and make some inquiries concerning the fight. It might be well for Archie to keep perfectly quiet during his absence, he added, for there was the wounded Indian, who was in just the right mood to hurt somebody.

"Don't be uneasy," replied Archie. "Go and get some information about that fight, and hurry back; for I want to know which whipped. I'll wager my rifle against your bow and arrows that you Indians were completely cleaned out."

When the young warrior had disappeared, Archie, not knowing what else to do with himself, lay down on the ground to await his return, looking over his shoulder occasionally at the wounded Indian, who began to kick about worse than ever.

"It serves you just right," said the prisoner. "What had those people at the fort done to you, that you wanted to kill them? Perhaps you will learn to let peaceable white settlers alone in future."

"I don't reckon I ever done any harm to peaceable white fellers," said a familiar voice, from under the blanket. "Lay down, you keerless feller!"

it added quickly, as Archie started up in amazement; "lay down, or you'll spile every thing."

Archie, for a moment too astonished to speak, fell back upon the ground again, and, as he did so, he felt the cold blade of a hunting-knife pressed against his hands. The thongs of buckskin with which he was confined gave away, one after the other, under its keen edge, and in a few seconds he was free.

"d.i.c.k, is that really you?" he whispered, as soon as he had recovered the use of his tongue.

"I don't reckon it's any body else."

"How did you get so badly hurt?"

"Hurt!" repeated the trapper; "I aint no more hurt nor you be. This aint the fust time you've been fooled to-night, is it? I've been through a heap since I seed the sun set, but I can out-run and out-fight the best Injun in this tribe yet. I haint got no time to waste in talkin', howsomever. We're licked, the tradin'-post is burned up, an' the only thing we can do is to make tracks for Fort Benton. Creep into them bushes, an' keep in 'em till you get around to the other side of the camp; then strike off through the mountains, an' go straight south. The moon is up now, an' you can tell the pints of the compa.s.s from that.

Arter you have gone about two miles from the camp, you will strike the ole wagon trail--it aint traveled now, but it is a good, plain road, an'

you can't miss it--which you must foller till you reach the prairy."

"I might get lost," whispered Archie. "Why can't you go with me?"

"'Cause I can't leave ole Bob," was the reply. "He's a pris'ner now, an'

I'm goin' to stay here till I see a chance to turn him loose. You can't get lost if you do as I tell you. When you reach the prairy, travel straight north fur about ten miles, an' you will come to the Ole Bar's Hole. If me an' Bob are alive, we'll be thar to-morrer night; but if we shouldn't come then, don't wait fur us, but strike out fur Fort Benton, which is exactly north-east of the Ole Bar's Hole. Now be off afore that young Injun comes back."

"But, d.i.c.k," persisted Archie, "I don't want to leave Frank."

"Who axed you to leave him? Ole Bob sent him safe out of camp long ago."

d.i.c.k jumped to his feet and staggered off in the direction of the village, and Archie, after looking all around him to see that there was no one observing his movements, crept into the bushes. When he reached them, he arose to an upright position, and hurried along with all possible speed, keeping in the edge of the ravine, as d.i.c.k had directed.

How long it was before the Black Fox discovered his escape and what he said, and what he did, when he found that his prisoner had slipped through his fingers, Archie never knew. He heard no tumult behind him, nor any sounds of pursuit; and neither did he meet any of the Indians during the two hours he stumbled about through the darkness, picking his way over rocks and logs toward the old wagon trail of which d.i.c.k had spoken. He reached it in safety, and then his progress became more easy and rapid.

The road, being overhung by cliffs and trees, was, in some places, pitch dark; but Archie found but little difficulty in following it. He ran along, forgetful of every thing except that there were Indians and outlaws behind him, never giving a thought to the grizzly bears, panthers, and other savage animals with which the mountains abounded, and thinking only of the foes he had left in the ravine, and of the Old Bear's Hole, where he hoped to meet the trappers. Alone in the mountains, on foot, and entirely unarmed, his situation was far from being an encouraging one; but Archie had a happy faculty of looking at the bright side of things.

d.i.c.k had told him that the trail was not traveled now, but Archie found that he was mistaken; for, when he had gone about two miles, he came suddenly around the base of a mountain, and found before him a long row of camp-fires, and wagons drawn up on each side of the road. He was startled by the unexpected sight, and his first impulse was to turn and take to his heels; but a closer glance satisfied him that he had stumbled upon the camp of a party of emigrants. That same glance showed him also that an attempt at retreat might prove extremely hazardous; for, standing in front of the nearest fire was a man who hailed him the moment he came in sight, and covered him with his rifle.

"Who's that?" asked the emigrant, in some alarm.

"A friend!" replied Archie. "Don't shoot."

"Come up to the fire, friend, and let's have a look at you," said the man. "Why, what's the matter with you? You are as white as a sheet."

"Perhaps you would be white, too, if you had pa.s.sed through what I have to-night."

"And you are panting as though you had been running," continued the emigrant. "Where's your horse and your gun? and what are you doing out here alone in the mountains, at this time of night?"

"It's a long story, and I can't stop to relate it to you. You have made your camp in a very dangerous place, if you only knew it, and my advice is to hitch up and start for Fort Benton with as little delay as possible. There are hostile Indians all around you."

"Indians!" cried the emigrant. He stepped back, and, dropping the b.u.t.t of his rifle to the ground, leaned on the muzzle of the weapon and looked earnestly at Archie, while several men who were lying near the fire on their blankets, and who had been awakened by the conversation, raised themselves on their elbows and began to listen more attentively.

"Where is Fort Benton, and why should we go there? We want to go to Fort Stockton."

"Well, you will never see it. It was burned by Indians not more than three hours ago, and the most of the garrison were ma.s.sacred. The savages may come along this road in less than twenty minutes."

If Archie had never created a sensation before, he could certainly boast of having made one now. It seemed to him, from the commotion that ensued, that every person in the train had heard his words.

Exclamations of wonder and alarm arose on all sides: men began running about, some yoking their oxen and harnessing their mules, others crowding around Archie and asking innumerable questions which they did not give him time to answer; horses pranced and snorted; dogs barked; children cried; women screamed and thrust their heads out of the wagons to see what was going on; and in a moment the camp, which had been so quiet and peaceful when Archie first discovered it, was in the greatest uproar.

"Why, boy, you're crazy!" exclaimed one of the emigrants, when Archie had hurriedly related his story. "I don't believe a word you say. You've been asleep, and dreamed it all."

"Am I asleep now?" retorted Archie. "Look at my wrists. Do you dream that you see those marks on them? They were made by the strips of buckskin with which I was tied."

"Didn't they tell us at Fort Alexander that there wasn't a hostile Indian on the plains?" asked another.

"Very likely they did, sir; and no doubt they thought so. I have been living within sight of a camp of Indians for the last three days, and I didn't know they were preparing to go on the war-trail; but they were, and I have pa.s.sed a portion of this night as a prisoner among those same Indians."

"But suppose they do attack us? we've got twenty men."

"There were almost seven times as many in Fort Stockton, and yet the Indians captured it. If you are tired of life, you can stay here; but as I desire to live awhile longer, I shall go on."

Archie did go on, but he did not go alone; the entire train went with him. Among the emigrants there were many who had never crossed the plains before, and who were terrified by the simple mention of the words "hostile Indians." These prepared to turn back at once; and the others, not caring to be left behind, accompanied them.

"Is there any one here who can spare me a horse and rifle?" asked Archie. "I have tramped about among these mountains until I am completely tired out; and I have no weapon except a pocket-knife."

Archie was standing near a wagon occupied by an invalid, who had listened to his story with blanched cheeks. When he made this request, the man said, in a trembling voice:

"You don't look as though you were strong enough to handle a gun but if you are, here's one at your service."

"I don't want to take this, sir, unless you have other weapons," said Archie, who, anxious as he was to have some means of defense in his hands, was not selfish enough to disregard the comfort or safety of others.

"I have a brace of revolvers," replied the man; "but that thing is of no use to me, for I never fired a gun in my life. You will find my horse picketed with the others--a large chestnut-sorrel, with white mane and tail. The saddle and bridle are in the front of the wagon."

Archie thanked the man cordially, and wondering where he had lived all his life that he had never learned to use a rifle, he took the saddle and bridle from the wagon and started out to find the horse.

Never before had Archie seen a wagon-train prepared for the march in so short a s.p.a.ce of time. Every thing was done in a hurry, and, in less than five minutes, some of the emigrants were moving down the road toward the prairie. He noticed, also, that now that the excitement and alarm occasioned by the intelligence he had brought had somewhat subsided, silence reigned in the camp. Not a loud word was heard. The men moved about their work as silently as specters, and spoke to their animals in whispers; the screams had ceased, the children had stopped crying, and all seemed to understand the necessity of making as little noise as possible. The horses, too, seemed to comprehend the situation, for there were no prancing or restless ones among them; and even the wagons moved off with a subdued creaking of their huge wheels.