The Big Otter

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  THE CHASE, THE CAPTURE, AND THE REVELATION.

  A stern chase is usually a long one. There are not many proverbs thetruth of which comes more powerfully home than this--at least to thosewho have had the misfortune to engage in many such chases. To make aslant at a fugitive, so as to cut him off, or to make a short cut andhead him, is pleasant if you be strong in wind and limb, but to creep upright astern, inch by inch, foot by foot, yard by yard, and to overcomehim at last by sheer superiority and perseverance, is a dishearteningtask.

  That was the task we undertook the night we left the Indian camp, andwent off at full gallop over the rolling prairie in pursuit of thescoundrel Attick and his crew.

  But Indians are by nature persevering, and, for myself, I was roused tothe highest pitch of indignation and anxiety. Salamander and I hadridden far and fast that day, besides which we had eaten only a mouthfulof pemmican and biscuit since breakfast; nevertheless, under theexcitement of the moment our weariness vanished, our hunger fled, and weengaged in the pursuit with all the ardour of the youngest brave amongthem.

  Fortunately I had secured two exceptionally fine horses, so that theywere quite able to compete with the inferior, though fresher, horses ofthe Indians.

  "How long is it since you discovered that they were gone?" said I, as Igalloped alongside of Big Otter.

  "Not more than an hour," he replied.

  "Do you think they had a long start before that?"

  "I cannot tell. Perhaps two hours, perhaps four. Certainly not five,for they were seen in camp when the sun was high."

  I was greatly relieved to learn that they had not got a longer start ofus, and very thankful that I had come up in time to join the pursuers.I was calming down somewhat under the influence of these thoughts, whenI had a sudden feeling of being shot from a cannon into the air. Thiswas succeeded by a sensation of having my nose converted into aploughshare, and that was instantly followed by oblivion!

  In the uncertain light my steed had put his foot in a badger hole--thatwas all, but it sufficed to check the pace of the whole party!

  On recovering I found my head on Salamander's knee. I felt dreamy andindifferent. "What has happened?" I asked, in English.

  Our interpreter, who had a tendency to answer in whatever language hewas addressed--whether English, French, or Indian--replied--

  "Yoos bin a-most busted, sar!"

  Suddenly the true state of the case flashed upon me. Langour fled. Ileaped up, and scrambled somehow into the saddle.

  "Have I been long insensible, Salamander?" I asked, as we resumed ourheadlong pace.

  "On'y what time I kin count twinty, sar."

  Rejoiced to find that no longer time had been lost, I galloped alongcontentedly, and in silence, though with a rather confused feeling in mybrain, and a sensation of being possessed of six noses rolled into one.

  Although no one, as I have said, seemed to lead the party when westarted, I soon found that Big Otter was really our chief. He rodeahead of us, and more than once pulled up to dismount and examine thetrail. On these occasions the rest of the party halted without orders,and awaited his decision. Once we were completely thrown off the scent.The fugitives had taken to a wooded tract of country, and it requiredour utmost caution not to lose the trail.

  Presently we came to a small stream and crossed it, but the trail endedabruptly here. We were not surprised, being well aware of the commonIndian device of wading in a stream, which holds no footprints, so as tothrow pursuers out. Dividing our force, one party went up stream, theother down, but although eager, sharp, and practised eyes examined thebanks, they could not discover the spot where the fugitives had againtaken to dry land. Returning to the place where we had divided, BigOtter again examined the trail with minute care, going down on his kneesto turn over the blades of grass and examine the footprints.

  "Strange," said I, impatiently, "that so simple a device should baffleus."

  As I spoke, the chief arose, and, dark though it was, I could see agleam of intelligence on his swarthy visage.

  "Attick thinks he is wise," he said, in a low voice, "but he has no morebrains than a rabbit. He was from childhood an idiot."

  Having paid his tribesman this compliment, he remounted, and, to mysurprise, went straight back the way we had come.

  "What means this!" I asked, unable to restrain my impatience.

  "Attick has doubled back, that is all. If there had been more light weshould easily have seen that. We shall soon find the place where thetrail breaks off again."

  The Indian was right. On clearing the wooded land we found that themoon was up, and we followed the trail easily. Coming to a hillock inthe open ground, the top of which was covered with thick and stuntedbushes, we rode into them and there experienced much difficulty inpicking our way.

  Suddenly Big Otter turned at a right angle from the line we had beenhitherto pursuing, and, putting his horse to the gallop, held on withthe decision of one who knows he is on the right road.

  As the prairie was open, and the moon growing brighter, we had now nodifficulty in following up the fugitives, and pressed on as fast as ourhorses could go.

  Daylight came and found us still galloping; but as there was no sign ofthose whom we pursued, and as our horses were getting tired, we haltedat a small stream for a short rest and breakfast.

  "They must be well mounted," said I, as we sat on the banks of thestream appeasing our hunger with masses of dried buffalo meat, while thehorses munched the grass near us.

  "Attick is always well mounted," replied Big Otter; "but his men may notbe so well off, and women are difficult to urge on when they areunwilling."

  "Then you have no doubt that we shall overtake them?" I asked.

  "We _must_ overtake them," was the laconic reply. I felt somewhatcomforted by the decision of the Indian's tone, and a good deal more soby his ordering his warriors to remount before half an hour had passed.He did not however, press on as hard as before, fearing, no doubt thatthe horses would break down.

  I felt assured that Attick would not dare to halt until he believedhimself almost beyond pursuit; and, as the chase therefore bade fair tobe a very long one, it seemed wise thus to spare the horses.

  About noon, however, we passed through a strip of woodland, and, oncoming out at the other side, observed a party of horsemen on thedistant horizon.

  "Waugh!" exclaimed Big Otter, shaking the reins of his steed and goingoff at racing speed. We soon began to overhaul the cavalcade, and thenperceived that they were doing their utmost to get away from us.

  "It is Attick and his party--is it not?" I asked, excitedly.

  "It is Attick," was the brief reply.

  Another belt of woodland lay a little to the right on the horizon. Thefugitives headed for it. We urged our horses to their utmost speed andsoon dashed through the belt of wood, expecting to see the fugitives onthe plain beyond. What was our surprise, then, to find them assembledin a group, calmly tying up their horses, and kindling a fire as if forthe purpose of cooking their mid-day meal. As most of the men had laidaside their guns, and we outnumbered them by two to one, we checked ourheadlong course, and trotted quietly up to them.

  To my great joy I saw, as we approached, that the girl who stooped tokindle the fire was Waboose. Her mother sat on a bank near her, lookingvery pale and worn.

  Attick, who still carried his gun in the hollow of his left arm,expressed well-feigned surprise at seeing us.

  "Big Otter seems to be on the war-path," he said, "but I have seen noenemies."

  "Big Otter's enemy stands before him," returned our leader, sternly."Attick has been very foolish. Why did he run away with the daughter ofWeeum the Good?"

  "Attick scorns to run away with a squaw. Waboose agreed to go with himon the hunt. There she is: ask her."

  This was a bold stroke of the wily savage. Instead of flying from us,he pretended to have been merely hurrying after a band of buffalo, wh
ichwas said to be moving southward, and that he had halted in the chase fora short rest and food. This plan he had hastily adopted, on perceivingthat it was impossible to escape us, having previously warned Waboosethat he would shoot her dead if she did not corroborate what he said.But Attick was incapable of believing that fearless heroism could dwellin the breast of a woman, and little knew the courage of the daughter ofWeeum the Good. He mistook her silence and her downcast eyes forindications of submission, and did not doubt that the delicate-lookingand shrinking girl was of much the same spirit as the other women of histribe.

  Great, then, was his astonishment when he saw the Saxon blood in herveins rush to her fair brow, while she gazed at him steadily with herlarge blue eyes, and said--

  "The tongue of Attick is forked. He lies when he says that the daughterof Weeum agreed to follow him. He knows that he carried her from thecamp by force against her will."

  Attick had thrown forward and cocked his gun, but happily the unexpectednature of the girl's reply, and the indignant gaze of her eyes, causedan involuntary hesitation. This did not afford time for any one toseize the intending murderer, but it enabled me hastily to point myrifle at the villain's head and fire. I have elsewhere said that myshooting powers were not remarkable; I missed the man altogether, butfortunately the bullet which was meant for his brain found its billet inthe stock of his gun, and blew the lock to atoms, thus rendering theweapon useless.

  With a fierce shout he dropped the gun, drew his scalping-knife, andsprang towards Waboose, or--as I had by that time found a pleasure inmentally styling her--Eve Liston.

  Of course every man of our party sprang forward, but it fell toSalamander to effect the rescue, for that light-hearted and light-limbedindividual chanced to be nearest to the savage when I fired at him, and,ere the knife was well drawn, had leaped upon his back with the agilityof a panther. At the same moment Big Otter flung his tomahawk at him.The weapon was well, though hastily, aimed. It struck the savage fullon the forehead, and felled him to the earth.

  The rest of Attick's party made no attempt to rescue him. Like all badmen, they were false to each other in the hour of need. They quietlysubmitted to be disarmed and led away.

  We had to encamp early that evening, because the unwonted and severeexercise to which Waboose's mother had been exposed had rendered herquite unfit to travel further without rest. Attick, who had soonrecovered sufficiently to be able to walk, was bound, along with hismen, and put under a guard. Then the encampment was made and the fireskindled. While this was being done I led Waboose aside to a littleknoll, from which we could see a beautiful country of mingled woodlandand prairie, stretching far away to the westward, where the sun had justdescended amid clouds of amber and crimson.

  "Is it not glorious!" I exclaimed. "Should we not be grateful to theGreat Spirit who has given us such a splendid home?"

  Waboose looked at me. "Yes, it is glorious," she said--"and I amgrateful; but it is strange that you should use the very same words thatwere so often on the lips of my father just before he--"

  She stopped abruptly.

  "Just before he went home, Eve," I interposed; "no need to say died.Your father is not dead, but sleepeth. You shall meet him again. Butit is not very strange that men should use the same words when they areanimated by the same love to the Great Spirit."

  The girl raised her large eyes with a perplexed, inquiring look.

  "What troubles you, Eve?" I asked.

  "Eve!" she repeated, almost anxiously. "Twice you have called me by aname that father sometimes used, though not often, and when he used ithe always spoke low and _very_ tenderly."

  I felt somewhat perplexed as to how I should reply, and finally tookrefuge in another question.

  "Tell me, Waboose," said I, "did your father ever tell you his ownname?"

  "Of course he did," she answered, with a look of surprise--"you knowwell it was Weeum."

  "Yes, William," said I; "but--"

  "No--Weeum," she said, correcting me. "Once or twice I have heard himsay Willum, but all our people call him Weeum."

  "Had he no other name?" I asked.

  "No. Why should he have another? Is not one enough?"

  "You never heard of Liston?"

  "Liston?--No, never."

  "Waboose," said I, with sudden earnestness, "I am going to tell yousomething that will probably surprise you, and I will show you somethingthat may give you pleasure--or pain--I know not which. You remember,that when I found the curious ornaments near to the stunted pine-tree, Iasked you not to question me at that time about the packet you gave tome long ago. Well, the time has come when I ought to tell you all aboutit. But, first, look at this."

  I had taken from my pocket, while speaking to her, the miniature of herfather, which I now handed to her. She fixed her eyes on it with astartled look, then sprang up with an exclamation, at the same timedrawing one hand across her eyes, as if to clear away some mists thatdimmed them. Eagerly she gazed again, with parted lips and heavingbosom, then burst into a passionate flood of tears, pressing theminiature alternately to her lips and to her heart.

  I stood helplessly gazing at her--anxious to comfort but unable.

  "Oh! why, why," she cried, suddenly dropping the miniature, "why do youmock me with this? It is so little, yet so like. It looks alive, butit is dead. It is nothing--a mockery!"

  The poor girl caught it up, however, and began to kiss and caress itagain.

  Some time elapsed before her passionate grief was sufficiently subduedto permit of her listening to me. When it was nearly exhausted, andfound vent only in an occasional sob, I took her hand gently and said--

  "Give me the picture now, Waboose. I will wrap it up again, for I havemuch to say."

  Then, unfolding the last writing of the poor fellow whom the Indians hadstyled Weeum the Good, I slowly translated it into the Indian language.It was not an easy task; for, besides feeling that it stirred the heartof the listener with powerful emotions, I had great difficulty in takingmy eyes off her changeful face, so as to read the manuscript.

  "Now, Eve Liston--for that is your real name," said I, when I hadfinished, "what do you think ought to be done?"

  The girl did not reply at once, but sat so long with her hands claspedtightly on her lap, and her eyes fixed wistfully on the ground, that Ihad to repeat the question.

  "What is to be done?" she replied, simply; "of course, what fatherwished to be done."

  "And are you ready to go with me to the far south to see your father'smother? Can you trust me to protect you?"

  "Oh, yes," she replied, with a straightforward look that almostdisconcerted me; "have you not protected me well already?"

  "And are you willing, Eve, to leave your tribe and go off alone withme?"

  "Alone!" she repeated, with a look of surprise; "oh! no--not alone.Mother must go too, and also Big Otter."

  Once more I felt somewhat confused, for, to say truth, I had totallyforgotten her mother and Big Otter for the moment.

  "Well now, Eve--for I intend to call you by that name in future, exceptwhen in the presence of your people--I must talk this matter over withyour mother and Big Otter. I have some fear that the latter may objectto go with us."

  "He will not object," said Waboose, quietly. "He loved my father, andalways obeyed him."

  "Very good. So much the better. Now, as to the valuable jewels--theornaments, I mean."

  "Have you got them here!" asked Eve.

  "Yes. Knowing the risk I shall run of losing them or having them stolenfrom me, I have had a belt made which fits round my waist under myclothes, in which the jewels and the money are placed. If I can manageto get them and you safely conveyed to Colorado, all will be well, butit is a long, long journey, Eve, and--"

  I was interrupted at this point by Big Otter, who came to tell us thatsupper was ready, and that, as the region in which they were encampedwas sometimes visited by hostile Indians, as well as by white trappers--many of whom
were great scoundrels--it would be prudent to keep withinthe circle of sentinels after dark.