CHAPTER FIVE.
A MISSION OF PEACE--UNEXPECTED JOYS--DICK AND CRUSOE SET OFF FOR THELAND OF THE RED-SKINS, AND MEET WITH ADVENTURES BY THE WAY AS A MATTEROF COURSE--NIGHT IN THE WILD WOODS.
One day the inhabitants of Mustang Valley were thrown into considerableexcitement by the arrival of an officer of the United States army and asmall escort of cavalry. They went direct to the block-house, which,since Major Hope's departure, had become the residence of Joe Blunt--that worthy having, by general consent, been deemed the fittest man inthe settlement to fill the major's place.
Soon it began to be noised abroad that the strangers had been sent byGovernment to endeavour to bring about, if possible, a more friendlystate of feeling between the whites and the Indians, by means ofpresents, and promises, and fair speeches.
The party remained all night in the block-house, and ere long it wasreported that Joe Blunt had been requested, and had consented, to be theleader and chief of a party of three men who should visit theneighbouring tribes of Indians, to the west and north of the valley, asGovernment agents. Joe's knowledge of two or three different Indiandialects, and his well-known sagacity, rendered him a most fittingmessenger on such an errand. It was also whispered that Joe was to havethe choosing of his comrades in this mission, and many were the opinionsexpressed and guesses made as to who would be chosen.
That same evening Dick Varley was sitting in his mother's kitchencleaning his rifle; his mother was preparing supper and talking quietlyabout the obstinacy of a particular hen that had taken to laying hereggs in places where they could not be found; Fan was coiled up in acorner sound asleep, and Crusoe was sitting at one side of the firelooking on at things in general.
"I wonder," remarked Mrs Varley, as she spread the table with a purewhite napkin; "I wonder what the sodgers are doin' wi' Joe Blunt."
As often happens when an individual is mentioned, the worthy referred toopened the door at that moment and stepped into the room.
"Good-e'en t'ye, dame," said the stout hunter, doffing his cap, andresting his rifle in a corner, while Dick rose and placed a chair forhim.
"The same to you, Master Blunt," answered the widow; "you've jist comedin good time for a cut o' venison."
"Thanks, mistress, I s'pose we're beholden to the silver rifle forthat."
"To the hand that aimed it, rather," suggested the widow.
"Nay, then, say raither to the dog that turned it," said Dick Varley."But for Crusoe that buck would ha' bin couched in the woods thisnight."
"Oh! if it comes to that," retorted Joe, "I'd lay it to the door o' Fan,for if she'd niver bin born nother would Crusoe. But it's good an'tender meat, whativer ways ye got it. Howsiver, I've other things totalk about jist now. Them sodgers that are eatin' buffalo tongues up atthe block-house as if they'd niver ate meat before, and didn't hope toeat agin for a twelve-month--"
"Ay, what o' them?" interrupted Mrs Varley; "I've bin wonderin' whatwas their errand."
"Of coorse ye wos, Dame Varley; and I've comed here a' purpis to tellye. They want me to go to the Red-skins to make peace between them andus; and they've brought a lot o' goods to make them presents withal,--beads, an' knives, an' lookin'-glasses, an vermilion paint, an'sich-like, jist as much as'll be a light load for one horse--for, yesee, nothin' can be done wi' the Red-skins without gifts."
"'Tis a blessed mission," said the widow, "I wish it may succeed. D'yethink ye'll go?"
"Go? ay, that will I."
"I only wish they'd made the offer to me," said Dick with a sigh.
"An' so they do make the offer, lad. They've gin me leave to choose thetwo men I'm to take with me, and I've comed straight to ask _you_. Ayor no, for we must up an' away by break o' day to-morrow."
Mrs Varley started. "So soon?" she said, with a look of anxiety.
"Ay; the Pawnees are at the Yellow Creek jist at this time, but I'veheer'd they're 'bout to break up camp an' away west; so we'll need touse haste."
"May I go, mother?" asked Dick, with a look of anxiety.
There was evidently a conflict in the widow's breast, but it quicklyceased.
"Yes, my boy," she said in her own low, quiet voice, "an' God go withye. I knew the time must come soon, an' I thank Him that your firstvisit to the Red-skins will be on an errand o' peace. `Blessed are thepeacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.'"
Dick grasped his mother's hand and pressed it to his cheek in silence.At the same moment Crusoe, seeing that the deeper feelings of his masterwere touched, and deeming it his duty to sympathise, rose up and thrusthis nose against him.
"Ah! pup," cried the young man hastily, "you must go too. Of courseCrusoe goes, Joe Blunt?"
"Hum! I don't know that. There's no dependin' on a dog to keep histongue quiet in times o' danger."
"Believe me," exclaimed Dick, flashing with enthusiasm, "Crusoe's moretrustworthy than I am myself. If ye can trust the master yer safe totrust the pup."
"Well, lad, ye may be right. We'll take him."
"Thanks, Joe. And who else goes with us?"
"I've bin castin' that in my mind for some time, an' I've fixed to takeHenri. He's not the safest man in the valley, but he's the truest,that's a fact. And now, younker, get yer horse an' rifle ready, andcome to the block-house at daybreak to-morrow. Good luck to ye,mistress, till we meet agin."
Joe Blunt rose, and taking up his rifle,--without which he scarcely evermoved a foot from his own door,--left the cottage with rapid strides.
"My son," said Mrs Varley, kissing Dick's cheek as he resumed his seat,"put this in the little pocket I made for it in your hunting shirt."
She handed him a small pocket Bible.
"Dear mother," he said, as he placed the book carefully within thebreast of his coat, "the Red-skin that takes that from me must take myscalp first. But don't fear for me. You've often said the Lord wouldprotect me. So He will, mother, for sure it's an errand o' peace!"
"Ay, that's it, that's it," murmured the widow in a half-soliloquy.
Dick Varley spent that night in converse with his mother, and nextmorning at daybreak he was at the place of meeting mounted on his sturdylittle horse, with the "silver rifle" on his shoulder, and Crusoe by hisside.
"That's right, lad, that's right. Nothin' like keepin' yer time," saidJoe, as he led out a pack-horse from the gate of the block-house, whilehis own charger was held ready saddled by a man named Daniel Brand, whohad been appointed to the charge of the block-house in his absence.
"Where's Henri?--oh! here he comes," exclaimed Dick, as the hunterreferred to came thundering up the slope at a charge, on a horse thatresembled its rider in size, and not a little in clumsiness ofappearance.
"Ah! mes boy. Him is a goot one to go," cried Henri, remarking Dick'ssmile as he pulled up. "No hoss on de plain can beat dis one,surement."
"Now then, Henri, lend a hand to fix this pack, we've no time topalaver."
By this time they were joined by several of the soldiers and a fewhunters who had come to see them start.
"Remember, Joe," cried one, "if you don't come back in three monthswe'll all come out in a band to seek you."
"If we don't come back in less than that time, what's left o' us won'tbe worth seekin' for," said Joe, tightening the girth of his saddle.
"Put a bit in yer own mouth, Henri," cried another, as the Canadianarranged his steed's bridle; "ye'll need it more than yer horse when yegit 'mong the red reptiles."
"Vraiment, if mon mout' needs one bit yours will need one padlock."
"Now, lads, mount!" cried Joe Blunt as he vaulted into the saddle.
Dick Varley sprang lightly on his horse, and Henri made a rush at hissteed and hurled his huge frame across its back with a violence that_ought_ to have brought it to the ground; but the tall, raw-boned,broad-chested roan was accustomed to the eccentricities of its master,and stood the shock bravely. Being appointed to lead the pack-horse,Henri seized its halter; then the three cavaliers shook their
reins,and, waving their hands to their comrades, they sprang into the woods atfull gallop, and laid their course for the "far west."
For some time they galloped side by side in silence, each occupied withhis own thoughts, Crusoe keeping close beside his master's horse. Thetwo elder hunters evidently ruminated on the object of their mission andthe prospects of success, for their countenances were grave and theireyes cast on the ground. Dick Varley, too, thought upon the Red-men,but his musings were deeply tinged with the bright hues of a _first_adventure. The mountains, the plains, the Indians, the bears, thebuffaloes, and a thousand other objects, danced wildly before his mind'seye, and his blood careered through his veins and flushed his foreheadas he thought of what he should see and do, and felt the elastic vigourof youth respond in sympathy to the light spring of his active littlesteed. He was a lover of nature, too, and his flashing eyes glancedobservantly from side to side as they swept along,--sometimes throughglades of forest trees; sometimes through belts of more open ground andshrubbery; anon by the margin of a stream, or along the shores of alittle lake, and often over short stretches of flowering prairie-land,--while the firm, elastic turf sent up a muffled sound from the tramp oftheir mettlesome chargers. It was a scene of wild, luxuriant beauty,that might almost (one could fancy) have drawn involuntary homage to itsbountiful Creator from the lips even of an infidel.
After a time Joe Blunt reined up, and they proceeded at an easy amblingpace. Joe and his friend Henri were so used to these beautiful scenesthat they had long ceased to be _enthusiastically_ affected by them,though they never ceased to delight in them.
"I hope," said Joe, "that them sodgers 'll go their ways soon. I've nonotion o' them chaps when they're left at a place wi' nothin' to do butwhittle sticks."
"Why, Joe!" exclaimed Dick Varley in a tone of surprise, "I thought youwere admirin' the beautiful face o' nature all this time, and yer onlythinkin' about the sodgers. Now, that's strange!"
"Not so strange after all, lad," answered Joe. "When a man's used to athing he gits to admire an' enjoy it without speakin' much about it.But it _is_ true, boy, that mankind gits in coorse o' time to thinklittle o' the blissins he's used to."
"Oui, c'est _vrai_!" murmured Henri emphatically.
"Well, Joe Blunt, it may be so; but I'm thankful _I'm_ not used to thissort o' thing yet," exclaimed Varley. "Let's have another gallop--soho! come along, Crusoe!" shouted the youth, as he shook his reins, andflew over a long stretch of prairie on which at that moment theyentered.
Joe smiled as he followed his enthusiastic companion, but after a shortrun he pulled up.
"Hold on, youngster," he cried, "ye must larn to do as yer bid, lad;it's trouble enough to be among wild Injuns and wild buffaloes, as Ihope soon to be, without havin' wild comrades to look after."
Dick laughed and reined in his panting horse. "I'll be as obedient asCrusoe," he said, "and no one can beat him."
"Besides," continued Joe, "the horses won't travel far if we begin byrunnin' all the wind out o' them."
"Wah!" exclaimed Henri, as the led horse became restive; "I think wemust give to him de pack-hoss for to lead, eh!"
"Not a bad notion, Henri. We'll make that the penalty of runnin' offagain; so look out, Master Dick."
"I'm down," replied Dick with a modest air, "obedient as a baby, andwon't run off again--till--the next time. By the way, Joe, how manydays' provisions did ye bring?"
"Two. That's 'nough to carry us to the Great Prairie, which is threeweeks distant from this; our own good rifles must make up thedifference, and keep us when we git there."
"And s'pose we neither find deer nor buffalo," suggested Dick.
"I s'pose we'll have to starve."
"Dat is cumfer'able to tink upon," remarked Henri.
"More comfortable to think o' than to undergo," said Dick, "but I s'posethere's little chance o' that."
"Well, not much," replied Joe Blunt, patting his horse's neck; "but d'yesee, lad, ye niver can count for sartin on anythin'. The deer andbuffalo ought to be thick in them plains at this time--and when thebuffalo _are_ thick they covers the plains till ye can hardly see theend o' them; but, ye see, sometimes the rascally Red-skins takes it intotheir heads to burn the prairies, and sometimes ye find the place thatshould ha' bin black wi' buffalo, black as a coal wi' fire for miles an'miles on end. At other times the Red-skins go huntin' in 'ticlarplaces, and sweeps them clean o' every hoof that don't git away.Sometimes, too, the animals seems to take a scunner at a place and keepsout o' the way. But one way or another men gin'rally manage to scramblethrough."
"Look yonder, Joe," exclaimed Dick, pointing to the summit of a distantridge, where a small black object was seen moving against the sky,"that's a deer, ain't it?"
Joe shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed earnestly at the object inquestion. "Yer right, boy; and by good luck we've got the wind of him.Cut in an' take your chance now. There's a long strip o' wood as'll letye git close to him."
Before the sentence was well finished, Dick and Crusoe were off at fullgallop. For a few hundred yards they coursed along the bottom of ahollow; then turning to the right they entered the strip of wood, and ina few minutes gained the edge of it. Here Dick dismounted.
"You can't help me here, Crusoe. Stay where you are, pup, and hold myhorse."
Crusoe seized the end of the line, which was fastened to the horse'snose, in his mouth, and lay down on a hillock of moss, submissivelyplacing his chin on his fore-paws, and watching his master as he steppednoiselessly through the wood. In a few minutes Dick emerged from amongthe trees, and, creeping from bush to bush, succeeded in getting towithin six hundred yards of the deer, which was a beautiful littleantelope. Beyond the bush behind which he now crouched all was bareopen ground, without a shrub or hillock large enough to conceal thehunter. There was a slight undulation in the ground, however, whichenabled him to advance about fifty yards further, by means of lying downquite flat and working himself forward like a serpent. Further thanthis he could not move without being seen by the antelope, which browsedon the ridge before him in fancied security. The distance was too greateven for a long shot, but Dick knew of a weak point in this littlecreature's nature which enabled him to accomplish his purpose--a weakpoint which it shares in common with animals of a higher order,--namely,curiosity.
The little antelope of the North American prairies is intensely curiousabout everything that it does not quite understand, and will not restsatisfied until it has endeavoured to clear up the mystery. Availinghimself of this propensity, Dick did what both Indians and hunters areaccustomed to do on these occasions,--he put a piece of rag on the endof his ramrod, and, keeping his person concealed and perfectly still,waved this miniature flag in the air. The antelope noticed it at once,and, pricking up its ears, began to advance, timidly and slowly, step bystep, to see what remarkable phenomenon it could be. In a few secondsthe flag was lowered, a sharp crack followed, and the antelope fell deadupon the plain.
"Ha, boy! that's a good supper, anyhow," cried Joe, as he galloped upand dismounted.
"Goot! dat is better nor dried meat," added Henri. "Give him to me; Iwill put him on my hoss, vich is strongar dan yourn. But ver is yourhoss?"
"He'll be here in a minute," replied Dick, putting his fingers to hismouth and giving forth a shrill whistle.
The instant Crusoe heard the sound he made a savage and apparentlyuncalled-for dash at the horse's heels. This wild act, so contrary tothe dog's gentle nature, was a mere piece of acting. He knew that thehorse would not advance without getting a fright, so he gave him one inthis way which sent him off at a gallop. Crusoe followed close at hisheels, so as to bring the line alongside of the nag's body, and therebyprevent its getting entangled; but despite his best efforts the horsegot on one side of a tree and he on the other, so he wisely let go hishold of the line, and waited till more open ground enabled him to catchit again. Then he hung heavily back, gradually checked the horse'sspeed, and finally trotted him
up to his master's side.
"'Tis a cliver cur, good sooth," exclaimed Joe Blunt in surprise.
"Ah, Joe! you haven't seen much of Crusoe yet. He's as good as a manany day. I've done little else but train him for two years gone by, andhe can do most anything but shoot--he can't handle the rifle nohow."
"Ha! then, I tink perhaps hims could if he wos try," said Henri,plunging on to his horse with a laugh, and arranging the carcase of theantelope across the pommel of his saddle.
Thus they hunted and galloped, and trotted and ambled on through woodand plain all day, until the sun began to descend below the tree-tops ofthe bluffs on the west--then Joe Blunt looked about him for a place onwhich to camp, and finally fixed on a spot under the shadow of a noblebirch by the margin of a little stream. The carpet of grass on itsbanks was soft like green velvet, and the rippling waters of the brookwere clear as crystal--very different from the muddy Missouri into whichit flowed.
While Dick Varley felled and cut up firewood, Henri unpacked the horsesand turned them loose to graze, and Joe kindled the fire and preparedvenison steaks and hot tea for supper.
In excursions of this kind it is customary to "hobble" the horses; thatis, to tie their fore-legs together, so that they cannot run either fastor far, but are free enough to amble about with a clumsy sort of hop insearch of food. This is deemed a sufficient check on their tendency toroam, although some of the knowing horses sometimes learn to hop so fastwith their hobbles as to give their owners much trouble to recapturethem. But when out in the prairies where Indians are known or supposedto be in the neighbourhood, the horses are picketed by means of a pin orstake attached to the ends of their long laryats, as well as hobbled--for Indians deem it no disgrace to steal or tell lies, though they thinkit disgraceful to be found out in doing either. And so expert are thesedark-skinned natives of the western prairies, that they will creep intothe midst of an enemy's camp, cut the laryats and hobbles of severalhorses, spring suddenly on their backs, and gallop away.
They not only steal from white men, but tribes that are at enmity stealfrom each other, and the boldness with which they do this is mostremarkable. When Indians are travelling in a country where enemies areprowling, they guard their camps at night with jealous care. The horsesin particular are both hobbled and picketed, and sentries are posted allround the camp. Yet, in spite of these precautions, hostile Indiansmanage to elude the sentries, and creep into the camp. When a thiefthus succeeds in effecting an entrance, his chief danger is past. Herises boldly to his feet, and, wrapping his blanket or buffalo roberound him, he walks up and down as if he were a member of the tribe. Atthe same time he dexterously cuts the laryats of such horses as heobserves are not hobbled. He dare not stoop to cut the hobbles, as theaction would be observed, and suspicion would be instantly aroused. Hethen leaps on the best horse he can find, and uttering a terrificwar-whoop darts away into the plains, driving the loosened horses beforehim.
No such dark thieves were supposed to be near the camp under thebirch-tree, however, so Joe, and Dick, and Henri ate their supper incomfort, and let their horses browse at will on the rich pasturage.
A bright ruddy fire was soon kindled, which created, as it were, alittle ball of light in the midst of surrounding darkness for thespecial use of our hardy hunters. Within this magic circle all waswarm, comfortable, and cheery. Outside all was dark, and cold, anddreary by contrast.
When the substantial part of supper was disposed of, tea and pipes wereintroduced, and conversation began to flow. Then the three saddles wereplaced in a row; each hunter wrapped himself in his blanket, and,pillowing his head on his saddle, stretched his feet towards the fireand went to sleep, with his loaded rifle by his side and hishunting-knife handy in his belt. Crusoe mounted guard by stretchinghimself out _couchant_ at Dick Varley's side. The faithful dog sleptlightly and never moved all night, but had any one observed him closelyhe would have seen that every fitful flame that burst from the sinkingfire, every unusual puff of wind, and every motion of the horses thatfed or rested hard by, had the effect of revealing a speck of glitteringwhite in Crusoe's watchful eye.