CHAPTER TEN.
SALAMANDER GIVES AND RECEIVES A SURPRISE, AND WAR IS AVERTED BY WISEDIPLOMACY.
It has been already said that our interpreter, Salamander, possessed aspirit of humour slightly tinged with mischief, which, while itunquestionably added to the amusement of our sojourn in those lands,helped not a little to rouse our anxieties.
On returning to our men, after parting from Lumley, for the purpose ofgiving them their instructions, I found that Salamander was missing, andthat no one could tell where he had gone. I caused a search to be madefor him, which was unsuccessful, and would have persevered with it ifthere had not pressed upon me the necessity of obeying my chief's ordersto keep the savages amused. This I set about doing without delay, andhaving, like my friend, been a diligent student of the language on thejourney, found that I succeeded, more than I had ventured to hope for,in communicating my ideas.
As the disappearance of Salamander, however, was the subject whichexercised my mind most severely at the time, and as he afterwards gaveme a full account of the cause in detail, I shall set it down here.
Being possessed that evening, as he confessed, with a spirit ofrestlessness, and remembering that our two Highlanders had been left toguard the camp at Lake Wichikagan, he resolved to pay them a visit. Thedistance, as I have said elsewhere, was not much more than six miles--amere trifle to one who was as fleet as a young deer and strong as an oldbear. He soon traversed the ground and came up to the camp.
At first he meant merely to give the men a surprise, but the spirit towhich I have already referred induced him to determine on giving them afright. Approaching very cautiously, therefore, with this end in view,he found that things were admirably arranged for his purpose.
Donald Bane and James Dougall, having finished their fortress in thecentre of the open lawn, as already described, returned to their fire,which, it may be remembered, was kindled close to the edge of thebushes. There they cooked some food and devoured it with the gusto ofmen who had well earned their supper. Thereafter, as a matter ofcourse, they proceeded to enjoy a pipe.
The night, besides being fine and calm, was unusually warm, therebyinducing a feeling of drowsiness, which gradually checked the flow ofconversation previously evoked by the pipes.
"It is not likely the redskins will come up here to give us a chancewhen there's such a lot of our lads gone to meet them," said Bane, witha yawn.
"I agree with you, Tonald," answered Dougall grumpily.
"It is quite new to hev you agreein' with me so much, Shames," returnedBane with another yawn.
"You are right. An' it is more lively to disagree, whatever," rejoinedDougall, with an irresistible, because sympathetic, yawn.
"Oo ay, that's true, Shames. Yie-a-ou!"
This yawn was so effusive that Dougall, refusing to be led even bysympathy, yawned internally with his lips closed and swallowed it.
The conversation dropped at this point, though the puffs went onlanguidly. As the men were extended at full-length, one on his side,the other on his back, it was not unnatural that, being fatigued, theyshould both pass from the meditative to the dreamy state, and from thatto the unconscious.
It was in this condition that Salamander discovered them.
"Asleep at their posts!" he said mentally. "That deserves punishment."
He had crept on hands and knees to the edge of the bushes, and paused tocontemplate the wide-open mouth of Bane, who lay on his back, and theprominent right ear of Dougall, whose head rested on his left arm. Thedebris of supper lay around them--scraps of pemmican, pannikins, spoons,knives, and the broken shells of teal-duck eggs which, having beenpicked up some time before, had gone bad.
Suddenly an inspiration--doubtless from the spirit of mischief--cameover Salamander. There was one small unbroken egg on the ground near toBane's elbow. Just over his head the branch of a bush extended. Togenius everything comes handy and nothing amiss. Salamander tied theegg to a piece of small twine and suspended it to the twig in suchfashion that the egg hung directly over Bane's wide-open mouth. At aglance he had seen that it was possible to lay a light hand on the innerend of the branch, and at the same time bend his mouth over Dougall'sear. He drew a long breath, for it was a somewhat delicate anddifficult, being a duplicate, manoeuvre!
Pressing down the branch very slowly and with exceeding care, he guidedthe egg into Bane's mouth. He observed the precise moment when ittouched the sleeper's tongue, and then exploded a yell into Dougall'sear that nearly burst the tympanum.
Bane's jaws shut with a snap instantly. Need we--no, we need not!Dougall leaped up with a cry that almost equalled that of Salamander.Both men rushed to the fortress and bounded into it, the one spurtingout Gaelic expletives, the other rotten egg and bits of shell. Theyseized their guns and crouched, glaring through the various loopholesall round with finger on trigger, ready to sacrifice at a moment'snotice anything with life that should appear. Indeed they found itdifficult, in their excited condition, to refrain from blazing atnothing! Their friendly foe meanwhile had retired, highly delightedwith his success. He had not done with them however. By no means! Thespirit of mischief was still strong upon him, and he crept into thebushes to meditate.
"It wass an evil speerut, Shames," gasped Donald Bane, when he hadnearly got rid of the egg. "Did you smell his preath?"
"No, Tonald, it wass not. Spirits are not corporeal, and cannot handleeggs, much less cram them down a man's throat. It wass the egg you didsmell."
"That may be so, Shames, but it could not be a redskin, for he would bemore likely to cram a scalpin' knife into my heart than an egg into mymouth."
"Iss it not dreamin' ye wass, an' tryin' to eat some more in your sleep?You wass always fond of overeatin' yourself--whativer--Tonald."
Before this question could be answered, another yell of the mostappalling and complex nature rang out upon the night-air, struck themdumb, and seemed to crumple up their very hearts.
Salamander had been born with a natural gift for shrieking, and being ofa sprightly disposition, had cultivated the gift in boyhood.Afterwards, being also a good mimic, he had made the subject a specialstudy, with a view to attract geese and other game towards him. That hesometimes prostituted the talent was due to the touch of genius, towhich I have already referred.
When the crumpled-up organs began to recover, Bane said to Dougall,"Shames, this iss a bad business."
Dougall, having been caught twice that evening, was on his guard. Hewould not absolutely agree with his friend, but admitted that he was notfar wrong.
Again the yell burst forth with intensified volume and complicatedvariation. Salamander was young; he did not yet know that it ispossible to over-act.
"Shames!" whispered Bane, "I hev got a notion in my hid."
"I hope it's a coot w'an, Tonald, for the notions that usually git intoit might stop there with advantage. They are not much to boast of."
"You shall see. Just you keep talkin' out now an' then as if I wassbeside you, an' don't, whativer ye do, fire into the bushes."
"Ferry coot," answered Dougall.
Another moment, and Donald Bane glided over the parapet of their fort atthe side nearest the lake; and, creeping serpent-fashion for aconsiderable distance round, gained the bushes, where he waited for arepetition of the cry. He had not long to wait. With that boldness,not to say presumption, which is the child of success, Salamander nowbegan to make too many drafts on genius, and invented a series of howlsso preposterously improbable that it was impossible for even the mostcredulous to believe them the natural cries of man, beast, demon, ormonster.
Following up the sound, Donald Bane soon came to a little hollow where,in the dim light, he perceived Salamander's visage peering over a ridgein the direction of the fortress, his eyes glittering with glee and hismouth wide-open in the act of giving vent to the hideous cries. TheHighlander had lived long in the wilderness, and was an adept in itsways. With the noiseless motion of a redskin he wormed
his way throughthe underwood until close alongside of the nocturnal visitor, and thensuddenly stopped a howl of more than demoniac ferocity by clapping ahand on Salamander's mouth.
With a convulsive wriggle the youth freed his mouth, and uttered ashriek of genuine alarm, but Bane's strong arm pinned him to the earth.
"Ye dirty loon," growled the man in great wrath, "wass you thinkin' toget the better of a Heelandman? Come along with ye. I'll give you alesson that you'll not forget--whatever."
Despite his struggles, Bane held Salamander fast until he ceased toresist, when he grasped him by the collar, and led him towards thelittle fort.
At first, Salamander had been on the point of confessing the practicaljoke, but the darkness of the night induced him to hope for anotherescape from his position. He had not yet uttered a word; and, as hecould not distinguish the features of the Highlander, it was possible,he thought, that the latter might have failed to recognise him. If hecould give him the slip, he might afterwards deny having had anything todo with the affair. But it was not easy to give the slip to a man whoseknuckly hand held him like a vice.
"Shames," said Bane as he came near the fortress, "I've cot the peast!come oot, man, an' fetch a stick wi' you. I'll ha'd 'im while you layon."
Salamander, who understood well enough what he might expect, no soonerheard Dougall clambering over the barricade than he gathered himself upfor a tremendous wriggle, but received such a fearful squeeze on theneck from the vice-like hand of his captor that he was nearly choked.At the moment a new idea flashed into his fertile brain. His headdropped suddenly to one side; his whole frame became limp, and he fell,as it were, in a heap on the ground, almost bringing the Highlander onthe top of him.
"Oh! the miserable cratur," exclaimed Bane, relaxing his grasp with afeeling of self-reproach, for he had a strong suspicion that his captivereally was Salamander. "I do believe I've killed him. Wow! Shames,man, lend a hand to carry him to the fire, and plow up a bit flame thatwe may see what we've gotten."
"Iss he tead, Tonald?" asked Dougall, in a pitiful tone, as he cameforward.
"No, Shames, he's no tead yet. Take up his feet, man, an' I'll tak' hisshouthers."
Dougall went to Salamander's feet, turned his back to them, and stoopedto take them up as a man takes a wheelbarrow. He instantly received akick, or rather a drive, from Salamander's soles that sent him sprawlingon his hands and knees. Donald Bane, stooping to grasp the shoulder,received a buffet on the cheek, which, being unexpected, sent himstaggering to the left, while the sly youth, springing to his feetbounded into the bushes on the right with a deep-toned roar ending in alaugh that threw all his previous efforts quite into the shade.
The Highlanders rose, but made no attempt to pursue.
"My friend," said Bane, softly, "if that wass not an evil speerut, Iwill be fery much surprised."
"No, Tonald, it wass _not_ a speerut," replied the other, as theyreturned to their fortress. "Speeruts will not be kickin' an' slappin'like that; they are not corporeal."
While these scenes were enacting on the margin of Lake Wichikagan,Lumley and Mozwa arrived at the enemy's camp. It was a war-camp. Allthe women and children had been sent away, none but armed and paintedbraves remained.
They were holding a palaver at the time. The spot was the top of anopen eminence which was so clear of underwood that the approach of a foewithout being seen was an impossibility. Although the night was ratherdark, Lumley and his guide had been observed the instant they camewithin the range of vision. No stir, however, took place in the camp,for it was instantly perceived that the strangers were alone. With thegrave solemnity of redskin warriors, they silently awaited their coming.A small fire burned in their midst, for they made no attempt atconcealment. They were prepared to fight at a moment's notice. The redflames gleamed on their dusky faces, and glittered in their glancingeyes, as Lumley and Mozwa strode boldly into the circle, and stoodbefore the chief.
Intense surprise filled the hearts of the warriors at this unexpectedapparition of a white man, but not an eye or muscle betrayed thesmallest symptom of the feeling.
"The pale-face is welcome," said the chief, after a short pause.
"The pale-face is glad to meet with his dark-skinned brother, and thankshim," returned Lumley.
If the surprise at the sudden appearance of the pale-face was great, theastonishment to find that he spoke the Indian tongue was greater; butstill the feeling was not betrayed.
After a few short complimentary speeches, our hero came at once to thepoint.
"My brothers," he said, looking round on the dusky warriors, whoremained sitting all the time, "the white chief of the fur-traders hassent me into this country to trade with you."
This statement was received with a "waugh" of satisfaction from severalof the warriors.
"And," continued Lumley, "I have brought men--strong men, who can workwell--to help me to build a house, so that we may live among you andhunt together."
He paused here to let the statement have its full effect. Then hecontinued:--
"I have also brought plenty of guns, and powder, and lead."
Again he paused, and an emphatic "waugh" proved that the remark wasfully appreciated.
"The white man knows," continued Lumley, in a more flowing style, "thathis red brothers have need of many things which they do not possess,while the white man is in need of furs, and does not possess them. Itis for the good of each that we should exchange. The Great Spirit, whois all-wise, as well as all-good, has seen fit to scatter His childrenover a wide world, and He has given some of them too much of one thing,some of them too much of another. Why has He done so? May we not thinkthat it is for the purpose of causing His children to move about theworld, and mingle, and help each other, and so increase Love? Some ofthe bad children prefer to move about and steal. But there is no need.It is easier to do good than to do evil. If all men would help and nonewould steal, there would be more than enough for all."
Again a pause. Some of the savages, who were thoughtful men, weregreatly tickled in their minds by the arguments set forth. Others, whocould not understand, were deeply impressed.
"Now," continued Lumley, coming to the marrow of his discourse, "thered-men have more than enough of furs."
"Waugh!" in a tone of emphasis, that implied "that's true."
"And the pale-faces have few furs, but want some very much."
"Waugh?" interrogatively, in a tone that implied "what then?"
"Well, but the pale-faces are not poor. They are rich, and have far toomuch of many things. They have far too much of those pleasant sweetthings called sugar and molasses (the Indians involuntarily licked theirlips). Too much cloth as bright as the sun at setting, and as blue asthe sky at noon (the Indian eyes glistened). Too many guns, and toomuch powder and shot (the savage eyes glared). They have more beads,and blankets, and hatchets, and tobacco, than they know what to do with,so they have sent some of these things here to be given to you inexchange for furs, and food, and leather."
The waughs! and hows! and hos! with which these remarks were followed upwere so hearty, that Lumley thought it best to make a considerable pauseat this point; then he resumed:--
"But, my brothers,"--he stopped for a considerable time, and looked sograve, that the hearts of the red-men sank, lest the glorious visionwhich had been suddenly revealed to them, should be as suddenlywithdrawn in some way.
"But," repeated Lumley, again, with a sort of awful emphasis, "thepale-faces detest war. They can fight--yes, and when they _must_ fight,they _will_ fight, but they do not love fighting, and if they are tostay here and open up trade with their guns, and their powder, and theirblankets, and beads, and cloth (he wisely went all over it again for thesake of effect), there must be peace in the land. If there is war thepale-faces will take all their good things and go away--waugh!"
Finishing off in the true red-man style, Lumley sat down with decision,as though to say, "Now, the ball is at your own feet,
kick it which wayyou please."
Then the chief of the savages rose with dignity, but with a tinge ofeagerness which he could not altogether conceal, and said:--
"Let not my white brother talk of going away. War shall cease at hisbidding. Let him and his pale-faced warriors fell trees, and buildwigwams, and hunt. We have plenty furs--the black fox, the red fox, thebeaver, the marten, the minks, the bear, and many other animals areplentiful. We will exchange them for the goods of the white man. Wewill bury the hatchet, and smoke the calumet of peace, and the sound ofthe war-whoop shall no more be heard in the land--waugh!"
"Are my brothers ready to go to the camp of Big Otter, and make friendsat once?" asked Lumley.
This was a testing question, and for some time remained unanswered,while the chiefs and braves looked preposterously solemn. At last,however, they seemed to make up their minds, and the chief replied, "Weare ready."
That night the hostile savages met on the shores of Lake Wichikagan, andencamped with the fur-traders. Fires were lighted, and kettles put on,a royal feast was prepared; and the reunited tribes of red-men finallyburied the war-hatchet there, and smoked the pipe of peace.