CHAPTER XI.

"The Pale-faces hunt very late," he said, with a

malicious grin. "Do they love the dark better than

the sunshine?"

"Not so," replied Joe, coolly; "but we love to

walk by the light of the moon. It will be up in less

than an hour, and we mean to take a long ramble to-night."

"The Pawnee chief loves to walk by the moon, too;

he will go with the Pale-faces."

"Good!" ejaculated Joe. "Come along, then."

The party immediately set forward, although the

savage was a little taken by surprise at the indifferent

way in which Joe received his proposal to accompany

them. He walked on to the edge of the prairie, however,

and then stopped.

"The Pale-faces must go alone," said he; "Mahtawa

will return to his tent."

Joe replied to this intimation by seizing him suddenly

by the throat and choking back the yell that would

otherwise have brought the Pawnee warriors rushing to

the scene of action in hundreds. Mahtawa's hand was

on the handle of his scalping-knife in a moment, but

before he could draw it his arms were glued to his sides

by the bear-like embrace of Henri, while Dick tied a

handkerchief quickly yet firmly round his mouth. The

whole thing was accomplished in two minutes. After

taking his knife and tomahawk away, they loosened

their gripe and escorted him swiftly over the prairie.

Mahtawa was perfectly submissive after the first

convulsive struggle was over. He knew that the men

who walked on each side of him grasping his arms were

more than his match singly, so he wisely made no resistance.

Hurrying him to a clump of small trees on the plain

which was so far distant from the village that a yell

could not be heard, they removed the bandage from

Mahtawa's mouth.

"

Must

he be kill?" inquired Henri, in a tone of

commiseration.

"Not at all," answered Joe; "we'll tie him to a tree

and leave him here."

"Then he vill be starve to deat'. Oh, dat is more

horrobell!"

"He must take his chance o' that. I've no doubt

his friends'll find him in a day or two, an' he's game

to last for a week or more. But you'll have to run to

the willow bluff, Dick, and bring a bit of line to tie him.

We can't spare it well; but there's no help."

"But there

is

help," retorted Dick. "Just order the

villain to climb into that tree."

"Why so, lad?"

"Don't ask questions, but do what I bid ye."

The hunter smiled for a moment as he turned to the

Indian, and ordered him to climb up a small tree near

to which he stood. Mahtawa looked surprised, but

there was no alternative. Joe's authoritative tone

brooked no delay, so he sprang into the tree like a

monkey.

"Crusoe," said Dick, "

watch him!

"

The dog sat quietly down at the foot of the tree, and

fixed his eyes on the savage with a glare that spoke

unutterable things. At the same time he displayed his

full complement of teeth, and uttered a sound like

distant thunder.

Joe almost laughed, and Henri did laugh outright.

"Come along; he's safe now," cried Dick, hurrying

away in the direction of the willow bluff, which they

soon reached, and found that the faithful squaw had

tied their steeds to the bushes, and, moreover, had

bundled up their goods into a pack, and strapped it on

the back of the pack-horse; but she had not remained

with them.

"Bless yer dark face!" ejaculated Joe, as he sprang

into the saddle and rode out of the clump of bushes.

He was followed immediately by the others, and in

three minutes they were flying over the plain at full

speed.

On gaining the last far-off ridge, that afforded a

distant view of the woods skirting the Pawnee camp,

they drew up; and Dick, putting his fingers to his

mouth, drew a long, shrill whistle.

It reached the willow bluff like a faint echo. At the

same moment the moon arose and more clearly revealed

Crusoe's cataleptic glare at the Indian chief, who, being

utterly unarmed, was at the dog's mercy. The instant

the whistle fell on his ear, however, he dropped his eyes,

covered his teeth, and, leaping through the bushes, flew

over the plains like an arrow. At the same instant

Mahtawa, descending from his tree, ran as fast as he

could towards the village, uttering the terrible war-whoop

when near enough to be heard. No sound sends

such a thrill through an Indian camp. Every warrior

flew to arms, and vaulted on his steed. So quickly

was the alarm given that in less than ten minutes a

thousand hoofs were thundering on the plain, and

faintly reached the ears of the fugitives.

Joe smiled. "It'll puzzle them to come up wi' nags

like ours. They're in prime condition, too--lots o' wind

in' em. If we only keep out o' badger holes we may

laugh at the red varmints."

Joe's opinion of Indian horses was correct. In a very

few minutes the sound of hoofs died away; but the

fugitives did not draw bridle during the remainder of

that night, for they knew not how long the pursuit

might be continued. By pond, and brook, and bluff

they passed, down in the grassy bottoms and over the

prairie waves--nor checked their headlong course till

the sun blazed over the level sweep of the eastern plain

as if it arose out of the mighty ocean.

Then they sprang from the saddle, and hastily set

about the preparation of their morning meal.

Evening meditations and morning reflections--Buffaloes, badgers,antelopes, and accidents--An old bull and the wolves--"Madtails"--Henri floored, etc.

There is nothing that prepares one so well for the

enjoyment of rest, both mental and physical, as a

long-protracted period of excitement and anxiety, followed

up by bodily fatigue. Excitement alone banishes

rest; but, united with severe physical exertion, it prepares

for it. At least, courteous reader, this is our

experience; and certainly this was the experience of our

three hunters as they lay on their backs beneath the

branches of a willow bush and gazed serenely up at the

twinkling stars two days after their escape from the

Indian village.

They spoke little; they were too tired for that, also

they were too comfortable. Their respective suppers of

fresh antelope steak, shot that day, had just been disposed

of. Their feet were directed towards the small

fire on which the said steaks had been cooked, and

which still threw a warm, ruddy glow over the encampment.

Their blankets were wrapped comfortably round

them, and tucked in as only hunters and mothers know

how

to tuck them in. Their respective pipes delivered

forth, at stated intervals, three richly yellow puffs of

smoke, as if a three-gun battery were playing upon the

sky from that particular spot of earth. The horses

were picketed and hobbled in a rich grassy bottom close

by, from which the quiet munch of their equine jaws

sounded pleasantly, for it told of healthy appetites,

and promised speed on the morrow. The fear of being

overtaken during the night was now past, and the

faithful Crusoe, by virtue of sight, hearing, and smell,

guaranteed them against sudden attack during the hours

of slumber. A perfume of wild flowers mingled with

the loved odours of the "weed," and the tinkle of a

tiny rivulet fell sweetly on their ears. In short, the

"Pale-faces" were supremely happy, and disposed to be

thankful for their recent deliverance and their present

comforts.

"I wonder what the stars are," said Dick, languidly

taking the pipe out of his mouth.

"Bits o' fire," suggested Joe.

"I tink dey are vorlds," muttered Henri, "an' have

peepels in dem. I have hear men say dat."

A long silence followed, during which, no doubt, the

star-gazers were working out various theories in their

own minds.

"Wonder," said Dick again, "how far off they be."

"A mile or two, maybe," said Joe.

Henri was about to laugh sarcastically at this, but

on further consideration he thought it would be more

comfortable not to, so he lay still. In another minute

he said,--

"Joe Blunt, you is ver' igrant. Don't you know dat

de books say de stars be hondreds, tousands--oh!

milleryons of mile away to here, and dat dey is more

bigger dan dis vorld?"

Joe snored lightly, and his pipe fell out of his

mouth at this point, so the conversation dropped.

Presently Dick asked in a low tone, "I say, Henri,

are ye asleep?"

"Oui," replied Henry faintly. "Don't speak, or you

vill vaken me."

"Ah, Crusoe! you're not asleep, are you, pup?" No

need to ask that question. The instantaneous wag of

that speaking tail and the glance of that wakeful eye,

as the dog lifted his head and laid his chin on Dick's

arm, showed that he had been listening to every word

that was spoken. We cannot say whether he understood

it, but beyond all doubt he heard it. Crusoe

never presumed to think of going to sleep until his

master was as sound as a top, then he ventured to indulge

in that light species of slumber which is familiarly known

as "sleeping with one eye open." But, comparatively as

well as figuratively speaking, Crusoe slept usually with

one eye and a half open, and the other half was never

very tightly shut.

Gradually Dick's pipe fell out of his mouth, an

event which the dog, with an exercise of instinct almost,

if not quite, amounting to reason, regarded as a

signal for him to go off. The camp fire went slowly

out, the stars twinkled down at their reflections in the

brook, and a deep breathing of wearied men was the

only sound that rose in harmony with the purling

stream.

Before the sun rose next morning, and while many of

the brighter stars were still struggling for existence

with the approaching day, Joe was up and buckling on

the saddle-bags, while he shouted to his unwilling companions

to rise.

"If it depended on you," he said, "the Pawnees

wouldn't be long afore they got our scalps. Jump, ye

dogs, an' lend a hand, will ye?"

A snore from Dick and a deep sigh from Henri was

the answer to this pathetic appeal. It so happened,

however, that Henri's pipe, in falling from his lips, had

emptied the ashes just under his nose, so that the sigh

referred to drew a quantity thereof into his throat and

almost choked him. Nothing could have been a more

effective awakener. He was up in a moment coughing

vociferously. Most men have a tendency to vent ill-humour

on some one, and they generally do it on one

whom they deem to be worse than themselves. Henri,

therefore, instead of growling at Joe for rousing him,

scolded Dick for not rising.

"Ha, mauvais dog! bad chien! vill you dare to look

to me?"

Crusoe did look with amiable placidity, as though to

say, "Howl away, old boy, I won't budge till Dick does."

With a mighty effort Giant Sleep was thrown off at

last, and the hunters were once more on their journey,

cantering lightly over the soft turf.

"Ho, let's have a run!" cried Dick, unable to repress

the feelings aroused by the exhilarating morning air.

"Have a care, boy," cried Joe, as they stretched out

at full gallop. "Keep off the ridge; it's riddled wi'

badger--Ha! I thought so."

At that moment Dick's horse put its foot into a

badger-hole and turned completely over, sending its

rider through the air in a curve that an East Indian

acrobat would have envied. For a few seconds Dick

lay flat on his back, then he jumped up and laughed,

while his comrades hurried up anxiously to his assistance.

"No bones broke?" inquired Joe.

Dick gave a hysterical gasp. "I--I think not."


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