CHAPTER IV.
AN ALLIANCE OFFENSIVE AND DEFENSIVE.
Hearing this unexpected shot, Oliver was in the act of rushing toassist his friend, whom he supposed attacked by some wild beast, whenthe hearty and joyous voice of the Canadian was heard.
"Don't disturb yourself, my friend," he cried, "I have only beenproviding our dinner."
And next minute he reappeared, carrying on his back a doe, which hehung to one of the lower branches of the magnolia, and then began toopen.
"Handsome beast, is it not?" he said. "I believe the rascal waslistening. He paid dear for his curiosity."
"A fine beast and cleverly killed," replied Oliver, helping to skin theanimal.
"It is a pity to spoil a good skin. I am a pretty good shot, but youshould see my father shoot a tiger in the eye."
"That," cried Oliver, "seems extraordinary."
"I have seen him do it twenty times, and still more difficult things,"said the other. "But such deadly certainty is pure habit. We live byour guns--but to finish my story."
"Go on, my friend."
"My father was a child when we left Canada. He is now aboutforty-eight. My grandfather taught him to be a hunter, and to bindhim to the tribe he married him when very young to a charming youngIndian, a relative of Kouha-hande, and my mother in consequence. We aremere children. I am only twenty, and my sister but fifteen, lovely asthe breath of dawn, and whose real name is Angela, my father's wish.But the Indians call her Evening Dew. That is all. I am a hunter. Ihate the English and the North Americans, who are worse than John Bullhimself, and I love the French, whose countryman I am."
"You are quite right. Few native-born Frenchmen are such strongpatriots as you. But now for your name."
"Have I not told you? My name is Pierre Berger, but the Indians, intheir mania for such names, call me Bright-eye, I hardly know why."
"Of course because of your admirable power of shooting."
"Well, perhaps you are right. I am a pretty good hand," said the youngman, modestly. "And now, my friend, I have to add that I reached hereyester evening at sundown, and that I am waiting for a friend, who willbe here shortly. It is now your turn to tell me your history, unless,indeed, you have any motives for remaining silent, in which case aman's secrets are his own."
"I have no secrets, especially from you, my dear Bright-eye, and theproof is that if you will listen, I will tell you who I am and why Icame into this country."
"I shall be delighted to hear your story," cried the Canadian, withevident delight.
From the very first moment when he saw the hunter and came to speakto him, Oliver felt himself attracted towards him by one of thosemovements of attraction or irresistible sympathy which spring fromintuition of the heart.
He had therefore, during his conversation, determined if possible tomake him a friend.
He thereupon told him his story in its most minute details, theCanadian listening with the most profound and sustained attention,without interrupting him by a single remark. He appeared sincerelyinterested in the numerous incidents of a life wretched from itscommencement, and yet which the young man told frankly and simply,without bitterness, but with an impartiality which indicated thegrandeur and nobility of his nature.
"Sad story, indeed," he cried, when the other had concluded; "how youmust have suffered from the unjust hatred of these people! Alone in theworld, without any to interest himself in you; surrounded by hostile orindifferent people; compelled to suffer from dark and insidious foes;capable of great things--young, strong, and intelligent, yet reduced tofly into the desert, and separate yourself from your fellows. Pardon ifmy cruel curiosity has reopened the wound which long since should havebeen cauterised."
He paused, keenly watching the other's face.
"Will you be my friend?" he suddenly cried. "I already feel for you anaffection I can scarcely explain."
"Thanks," cried Oliver, warmly, "I accept your offer with delight."
"Then it is agreed: from henceforth we are brothers."
"I swear it," resumed Oliver.
"We shall henceforth be two to fight the battle of the world."
"I thank heaven we have met."
"Never to part again. You have no family. I will find you one, brother,and this family will love you," he added.
"Heartily accept my thanks, Bright-eye," exclaimed Oliver; "lifealready seems changed, and I feel as if happiness were yet possible inthis world."
"There can be no doubt about it. Believe me, it depends on yourself.Look upon the past only as a dream, and think only of the future."
"I will do so," returned Oliver, with a sigh.
"And now to business. Young as I am, you will soon find that I enjoy acertain amount of reputation among the Indians and trappers. Very fewwould dare to attack me. I was educated in an Indian village, and, as Ibelieve I have already told you, I am here to keep an appointment witha young Indian, my friend and relative. This Indian I now expect everymoment, and I shall introduce you to him. Instead of one friend, youwill have two devoted brothers. Now then," he added, laughing, "are younot fortunate?"
"I am convinced of it," said Oliver.
"When we have finished our business in these parts--and you may help usin this business--we will return to my tribe, of which you shall becomea member."
"I am wholly in your hands, Bright-eye," he said; "I make noresistance. I only thank you."
"No thanks. I am useful to you today; you may be as useful, or more so,tomorrow."
"Very well. But what is the affair that detains you here, to which youjust alluded?" asked Oliver.
"I must say that I do not know, though frankly I have my ownsuspicions. My friend has not thought proper to explain as yet, butsimply gave me a rendezvous here, saying that I might prove useful.That was enough for me, and, as you see, I am here. It would be anact of indiscretion on my part to tell you anything I had not beendirectly told. Besides, I may be mistaken, and speak to you of a whollydifferent matter from the true one."
"You are quite right."
"To pass the time I will prepare supper."
"And while doing so tell what manner of man your friend is."
"He is a young man like ourselves, grandson of Kouha-hande. He ishimself a chief, and a noted brave. Though young, his reputation isimmense. He is tall, athletic, and even elegant of face. His featuresare handsome, even to effeminacy. His glance, gentle in repose as thatof a dove, is, when his anger is aroused, so terrible that few can faceit. His physical force is stupendous, his cunning sublime. But you willsoon judge for yourself. His enemies call him Kristikam-Seksenan, orBlack Thunder; his friends call him Numank-Charake, the brave man, inconsequence of his mighty deeds."
"You have simply been describing a hero," said Oliver.
"You shall judge for yourself," smiled the other.
"I am extremely anxious to do so."
"You will soon have the opportunity. It is now five o'clock. In a fewminutes he will be here."
"What, after making an appointment so long ago, you expect him to keepit to the minute!"
"Yes; it is the politeness of the desert, from which nothing absolvesbut death."
"A summary excuse, truly," said Oliver.
"Listen," cried Bright-eye.
Oliver listened, and distinctly heard in the distance the tramplingof a horse, which suddenly ceased, to be followed by the cry of thegoshawk.
Bright-eye responded with a similar cry, and with such perfection thatthe Frenchman mechanically raised his head in search of the bird.
Then the sound of a horse galloping recommenced, the bushes partedviolently, and a horseman bounded into the clearing, checking his steedso artistically that next moment he stood like a centaur rooted to theground.
The rider was very much as Bright-eye had described him. There wasabout him, moreover, an air of grandeur, a majesty which inspiredrespect without repelling sympathy. One glance sufficed to fix him as aman of superior nature.
It was the first t
ime Oliver, since his journey on the prairies, hadseen an Indian so near, and under such favourable circumstances. He atonce formed a friendly opinion of him.
The chief bowed, and then pointed to the sun gilding the summits of thetrees.
"It is five o'clock. Here is Numank-Charake."
"I say welcome, chief. I know your extreme punctuality. Supper isready."
"Good," said the chief, alighting from his horse with one bound.
Bright-eye then placed his hands on his friend's shoulders.
"Let my brother listen. The hunter is my friend."
"Numank-Charake has read it in the eyes of Bright-eye," replied theIndian, turning to Oliver; "I put my hand on my heart, what will mybrother give me in return?"
"My hand and my heart; that is," he added, with a smile, "all that isnot Bright-eye's."
"I accept my share; henceforth we are three in one, one in three.Numank-Charake was once the Bounding Panther. Let that name be the nameof my brother."
They shook hands. All was done. According to the customs of the countrythey were brothers, and held everything in common.
Almost on the threshold of his desert life, Oliver found himselfassociated with two men noted as the most honest and doughty championsof the prairie.