CHAPTER VI.ALL WRONG.
"Forgot her!" exclaimed the astounded Sebastian; "how did you do that?"
"I dinks at first she drops off de hoss—but afore I starts she goes back to look fur de cow, and I forgits about her till I gots here, and den I dinks, 'cause you ax me."
"This is a serious business," said the young Texan, turning toward Crockett. "I think Bungslager is a little the biggest fool I ever saw. It won't do to go on to the village and leave the girl alone in the woods."
"I rather guess not—'specially when she's such a purty piece of calikar as that. I'd be very glad to go back arter her, but, as she'd be a blamed sight gladder to see you, and you'd be gladder yet to see her, why I ain't the man to interfere."
The Texan coughed, and pretended not to comprehend the meaning of Crockett hastily replying:
"Suppose, then, you and Hans go on toward the village while I go back after her."
"I'm agreeable."
"The path follows the creek all the way, and Hans has traveled it often enough to know it, so you won't be delayed on that account. Good-by and good-luck to you!"
"'Bass," called out Hans, as he saw the young man start off.
"Well, what is it?" was the quick, business-like response.
"You goes arter Katrina, eh?"
"Yes; I do not propose to desert her."
"Ef she hain't found te cow, you can help her looks for him, and den you drives her into de village, and we has protein and milk for supper."
"We'll see to that," replied Carsfield, who had no wish to dispute with the Dutchman, "but, of course, I will look after Katrina first."
"Yaw; te cow has got a bell on her neck, so dat it will be easy fur to find her and den—"
He paused as the young man had vanished in the wood, and turning back to Crockett asked:
"Do we waits here till dey don't come, or do we don't go on till arter dey don't come?"
"I think so," replied Crockett, not exactly certain whether his answer was any more luminous than the question itself.
"Yaw; dat ish all right—I allers dink so."
"Sebastian advises us to keep on toward the village; we won't be able to travel very fast, as your horse has got about ten wagon-loads on his back, and if you're going to ride on top, he'll have to set down and rest about every hundred yards. So they will overhaul us, afore we can reach the village. Are you going to ride your hoss? If not you're welcome to straddle mine."
"No; I rides my hoss—you see he expects me, and I dush not disapp'ints him."
"All very well," replied Crockett, "but how the hokey-pokey are you going to get on top?"
"I shows you."
Hans Bungslager, as I have said, had his horse so loaded down that he was almost invisible. The pillow-bed "lapped" on each side so much that his head and a little of his neck could be seen. On this was placed another bulging tick, while numerous articles were adjusted and balanced with a skill which showed that the delicate hand of Katrina had borne a share in the task. These necessarily projected from the side of the horse, but she had remembered that the path they expected to follow was quite narrow, and the "breadth" was principally upward.
Having walked to this point, Hans concluded that he was entitled to ride, and indeed in loading his horse, care had been taken to arrange the articles so as to make him a nice comfortable seat.
Hans displayed his innate sagacity by leading the horse beside a short stunted tree with a projecting stumpy limb, upon which, with considerable "boosting" by Crockett, he managed to climb, and then, thanks to the gentleness of his horse, he safely "located himself upon his back."
"Now I ish ready," he called out, hitching about a little, so as to make sure he was firmly seated; "drive ahead."
Crockett pressed forward, and in the gloom saw a well-defined path before him, running parallel with the creek. This was the one referred to by Sebastian, and he took it at once.
Hans Bungslager succeeded in riding his horse better than would have been expected. By keeping in the center of the path, the trees and shrubbery at the sides did not interfere with his movements. The only difficulty was that by being elevated so much, he got his face pretty well scratched and occasionally was compelled to duck and dodge rather vigorously.
Crockett's native humor now and then manifested itself, when he turned about and saw the ludicrous figure in the rear; but, at the same time, he could not help feeling that they were threatened by a danger so serious that it ought to demand their entire thought.
The sky was clear, and the bright moonlight here and there penetrated through the tree-tops, lighting up the path and occasionally giving birth to frightful grotesque figures, that to a man's excited imagination would be apt to assume the form of reality.
But Colonel Crockett had been through too many trying scenes to be frightened by shadows. He dreaded not them—but he did dread the Comanches, that certainly could be at no great distance, and through whose lines it would be very difficult to pass in order to reach the village.
Had his own convictions been acted upon, the whites would not have attempted to make the settlement at all. In the dense woods which surrounded the cabin, there were any number of places where they could have concealed themselves, and waited until the danger had passed; but others had the right to decide upon their course of action, and his generous nature would not permit him to forsake them so long as they were in peril.
The two horses walked silently through the wood, the only sound being the faint clamp of their feet, and the rustling of the shrubbery against the baggage of Hans Bungslager. Occasionally he spoke to Crockett, but not often, as the Dutchman, reckless as he was, could not fail to see that it was no time for conversation.
So they progressed for a mile or so, when Crockett suddenly heard a furious gasping.
"Whoa! doonder and blitzen! whoa."
Checking his own horse and turning his head, he could see that Hans was in trouble. His obedient animal had instantly stopped upon being appealed to, but he was still in difficulty.
"What is it?" inquired the colonel.
"Doonder! dish limb has cotch my nose under de shin, and I can't gets my neck loose. Back!" he commanded to his horse, that, moving back a step or two, enabled him to free himself from the snare into which he had run his head.
"Can I help you any?" asked the hunter, who was not certain whether he was still in trouble or not.
"Yaw; you can help me as never vas."
"How?" asked Crockett, springing from his mustang, and hurrying back beside him.
"You goes pack to de capin, and up-stairs in my room, under te bed, yer finds some bear-grease; if you rubs dat on my chin here I feels goot."
"I'll see you hanged first," growled the hunter, as he hurried back to his horse. "If you ain't the greatest Dutchman in Texas, or the United States, then I'll go back to Tennessee and run for Congress ag'in."
Had there been no one beside himself and the Hollander concerned, Crockett would not have attempted to keep him company; but the beautiful Katrina, and the gallant young Texan had already won a warm place in the heart of the grizzled adventurer, and he was willing to incur any personal risk for them. As it was, he saw that, under Providence, all depended upon his watchfulness, and he therefore determined to assume the part of master, so long as he was compelled to keep company with Hans.
Nothing of Indians yet.
Crockett had scarcely thought this, when he heard the reports of three guns in rapid succession, but a short distance to the right of them in the wood, and not a little startled, he reined up and listened, Hans from necessity being compelled to do the same.
They waited five or ten minutes, when, hearing nothing more, the journey was resumed, Colonel Crockett feeling a conviction that some sort of trouble was at hand.
A hundred yards or so further on the horse of the hunter stopped, and leaning forward, the rider saw that the path divided, a branch turning off quite sharply to the right, while the other kept almost directly ahead.
Being an utter stranger, of course he appealed to Hans.
"Which do we take, the right or left?"
"De right," was the instant reply.
"You're sartin of that?"
"Yaw."
"Then we will go ahead."
And the famous Tennessean acted upon the motto, which has been quoted so many times, both during and after his life, his animal walking forward in quite a lively, business-like fashion.
Crockett began to think that it was time the young Texan and his lady-love put in an appearance. He felt a longing for the society of such a daring, chivalrous young man, as he knew Carsfield to be, and he thought that at the tardy rate pursued by him and Hans, the two fleet-limbed lovers ought to be somewhere in the vicinity.
But fully another mile was now passed and nothing was heard of them. Once again the report of a gun had been heard, but this time it was in another direction, and so far away, as to be quite a relief. Neither of the alarms had come from the rear, so there was no reason to fear that Carsfield and Katrina were in any difficulty.
"I say, hilloa!" suddenly called out Hans, in the husky, eager tones of one who is alarmed and excited. "I say, hilloa!"
"Wal, what's the matter, man?" inquired the hunter, reining up his mustang until the horse of the Dutchman could approach no closer.
"I hash sumfin' to dells you."
"Let me hear it then."
"It ish a good joke."
And thereupon Hans began shaking with laughter, until it really seemed as if he would fall from the back of his animal. He made several attempts to speak, but before he could make himself intelligible he broke off into immoderate laughter again. Finally Crockett lost patience.
"You can stay there and laugh, while I go on."
"Hold on! hold on, Mister Crockett—ain't it fooney—but I made—haw! haw! haw!—one great mistake—haw! haw!—dish is de wrong path, and we're furder away from de settlement dan when we shtarted! haw! haw! haw! haw! haw! haw!"