Page 6 of The Prairie


  CHAPTER IV

  --With much more dismay, I view the fight, than those that make the fray. --Merchant of Venice.

  The unfortunate bee-hunter and his companions had become the captives ofa people, who might, without exaggeration, be called the Ishmaelites ofthe American deserts. From time immemorial, the hands of the Siouxes hadbeen turned against their neighbours of the prairies, and even at thisday, when the influence and authority of a civilised government arebeginning to be felt around them, they are considered a treacherous anddangerous race. At the period of our tale, the case was far worse; fewwhite men trusting themselves in the remote and unprotected regionswhere so false a tribe was known to dwell.

  Notwithstanding the peaceable submission of the trapper, he was quiteaware of the character of the band into whose hands he had fallen.It would have been difficult, however, for the nicest judge to havedetermined whether fear, policy, or resignation formed the secret motiveof the old man, in permitting himself to be plundered as he did, withouta murmur. So far from opposing any remonstrance to the rude and violentmanner in which his conquerors performed the customary office, he evenanticipated their cupidity, by tendering to the chiefs such articlesas he thought might prove the most acceptable. On the other hand PaulHover, who had been literally a conquered man, manifested the strongestrepugnance to submit to the violent liberties that were taken withhis person and property. He even gave several exceedingly unequivocaldemonstrations of his displeasure during the summary process, and would,more than once, have broken out in open and desperate resistance, butfor the admonitions and entreaties of the trembling girl, who clung tohis side, in a manner so dependent, as to show the youth, that her hopeswere now placed, no less on his discretion, than on his disposition toserve her.

  The Indians had, however, no sooner deprived the captives of their armsand ammunition, and stripped them of a few articles of dress of littleuse, and perhaps of less value, than they appeared disposed to grantthem a respite. Business of greater moment pressed on their hands,and required their attention. Another consultation of the chiefs wasconvened, and it was apparent, by the earnest and vehement manner of thefew who spoke, that the warriors conceived their success as yet to befar from complete.

  "It will be well," whispered the trapper, who knew enough of thelanguage he heard to comprehend perfectly the subject of the discussion,"if the travellers who lie near the willow brake are not awoke out oftheir sleep by a visit from these miscreants. They are too cunning tobelieve that a woman of the 'pale-faces' is to be found so far from thesettlements, without having a white man's inventions and comforts athand."

  "If they will carry the tribe of wandering Ishmael to the RockyMountains," said the young bee-hunter, laughing in his vexation with asort of bitter merriment, "I may forgive the rascals."

  "Paul! Paul!" exclaimed his companion in a tone of reproach, "you forgetall! Think of the dreadful consequences!"

  "Ay, it was thinking of what you call consequences, Ellen, thatprevented me from putting the matter, at once, to yonder red-devil, andmaking it a real knock-down and drag-out! Old trapper, the sin of thiscowardly business lies on your shoulders! But it is no more than yourdaily calling, I reckon, to take men, as well as beasts, in snares."

  "I implore you, Paul, to be calm--to be patient."

  "Well, since it is your wish, Ellen," returned the youth, endeavouringto swallow his spleen, "I will make the trial; though, as you oughtto know, it is part of the religion of a Kentuckian to fret himself alittle at a mischance."

  "I fear your friends in the other bottom will not escape the eyes ofthe imps!" continued the trapper, as coolly as though he had not heard asyllable of the intervening discourse. "They scent plunder; and it wouldbe as hard to drive a hound from his game, as to throw the varmints fromits trail."

  "Is there nothing to be done?" asked Ellen, in an imploring manner,which proved the sincerity of her concern.

  "It would be an easy matter to call out, in so loud a voice as to makeold Ishmael dream that the wolves were among his flock," Paul replied;"I can make myself heard a mile in these open fields, and his camp isbut a short quarter from us."

  "And get knocked on the head for your pains," returned the trapper."No, no; cunning must match cunning, or the hounds will murder the wholefamily."

  "Murder! no--no murder. Ishmael loves travel so well, there would be noharm in his having a look at the other sea, but the old fellow is in abad condition to take the long journey! I would try a lock myself beforehe should be quite murdered."

  "His party is strong in number, and well armed; do you think it willfight?"

  "Look here, old trapper: few men love Ishmael Bush and his sevensledge-hammer sons less than one Paul Hover; but I scorn to slander evena Tennessee shotgun. There is as much of the true stand-up courage amongthem, as there is in any family that was ever raised in Kentuck, itself.They are a long-sided and a double-jointed breed; and let me tell you,that he who takes the measure of one of them on the ground, must be aworkman at a hug."

  "Hist! The savages have done their talk, and are about to set theiraccursed devices in motion. Let us be patient; something may yet offerin favour of your friends."

  "Friends! call none of the race a friend of mine, trapper, if you havethe smallest regard for my affection! What I say in their favour is lessfrom love than honesty."

  "I did not know but the young woman was of the kin," returned theother, a little drily--"but no offence should be taken, where none wasintended."

  The mouth of Paul was again stopped by the hand of Ellen, who took onherself to reply, in her conciliating tones: "we should be all of afamily, when it is in our power to serve each other. We depend entirelyon your experience, honest old man, to discover the means to apprise ourfriends of their danger."

  "There will be a real time of it," muttered the bee-hunter, laughing,"if the boys get at work, in good earnest, with these red skins!"

  He was interrupted by a general movement which took place among theband. The Indians dismounted to a man, giving their horses in chargeto three or four of the party, who were also intrusted with the safekeeping of the prisoners. They then formed themselves in a circle arounda warrior, who appeared to possess the chief authority; and at a givensignal the whole array moved slowly and cautiously from the centre instraight and consequently in diverging lines. Most of their dark formswere soon blended with the brown covering of the prairie; though thecaptives, who watched the slightest movement of their enemies withvigilant eyes, were now and then enabled to discern a human figure,drawn against the horizon, as some one, more eager than the rest, roseto his greatest height in order to extend the limits of his view. Butit was not long before even these fugitive glimpses of the moving, andconstantly increasing circle, were lost, and uncertainty and conjecturewere added to apprehension. In this manner passed many anxious and wearyminutes, during the close of which the listeners expected at each momentto hear the whoop of the assailants and the shrieks of the assailed,rising together on the stillness of the night. But it would seem, thatthe search which was so evidently making, was without a sufficientobject; for at the expiration of half an hour the different individualsof the band began to return singly, gloomy and sullen, like men who weredisappointed.

  "Our time is at hand," observed the trapper, who noted the smallestincident, or the slightest indication of hostility among the savages:"we are now to be questioned; and if I know any thing of the policy ofour case, I should say it would be wise to choose one among us to holdthe discourse, in order that our testimony may agree. And furthermore,if an opinion from one as old and as worthless as a hunter of fourscore,is to be regarded, I would just venture to say, that man should be theone most skilled in the natur' of an Indian, and that he should alsoknow something of their language.--Are you acquainted with the tongue ofthe Siouxes, friend?"

  "Swarm your own hive," returned the discontented bee-hunter. "You aregood at buzzing, old trapper, if y
ou are good at nothing else."

  "'Tis the gift of youth to be rash and heady," the trapper calmlyretorted. "The day has been, boy, when my blood was like your own, tooswift and too hot to run quietly in my veins. But what will it profit totalk of silly risks and foolish acts at this time of life! A grey headshould cover a brain of reason, and not the tongue of a boaster."

  "True, true," whispered Ellen; "and we have other things to attend tonow! Here comes the Indian to put his questions."

  The girl, whose apprehensions had quickened her senses, was notdeceived. She was yet speaking when a tall, half naked savage,approached the spot where they stood, and after examining the wholeparty as closely as the dim light permitted, for more than a minutein perfect stillness, he gave the usual salutation in the harsh andguttural tones of his own language. The trapper replied as well as hecould, which it seems was sufficiently well to be understood. In orderto escape the imputation of pedantry we shall render the substance, and,so far as it is possible, the form of the dialogue that succeeded, intothe English tongue.

  "Have the pale-faces eaten their own buffaloes, and taken the skins fromall their own beavers," continued the savage, allowing the usual momentof decorum to elapse, after the words of greeting, before he againspoke, "that they come to count how many are left among the Pawnees?"

  "Some of us are here to buy, and some to sell," returned the trapper;"but none will follow, if they hear it is not safe to come nigh thelodge of a Sioux."

  "The Siouxes are thieves, and they live among the snow; why do we talkof a people who are so far, when we are in the country of the Pawnees?"

  "If the Pawnees are the owners of this land, then white and red are hereby equal right."

  "Have not the pale-faces stolen enough from the red men, that you comeso far to carry a lie? I have said that this is a hunting-ground of mytribe."

  "My right to be here is equal to your own," the trapper rejoined, withundisturbed coolness; "I do not speak as I might--it is better to besilent. The Pawnees and the white men are brothers, but a Sioux dare notshow his face in the village of the Loups."

  "The Dahcotahs are men!" exclaimed the savage, fiercely; forgettingin his anger to maintain the character he had assumed, and using theappellation of which his nation was most proud; "the Dahcotahs haveno fear! Speak; what brings you so far from the villages of thepale-faces?"

  "I have seen the sun rise and set on many councils, and have heardthe words of wise men. Let your chiefs come, and my mouth shall not beshut."

  "I am a great chief!" said the savage, affecting an air of offendeddignity. "Do you take me for an Assiniboine? Weucha is a warrior oftennamed, and much believed!"

  "Am I a fool not to know a burnt-wood Teton?" demanded the trapper, witha steadiness that did great credit to his nerves. "Go; it is dark, andyou do not see that my head is grey!"

  The Indian now appeared convinced that he had adopted too shallow anartifice to deceive one so practised as the man he addressed, and he wasdeliberating what fiction he should next invent, in order to obtain hisreal object, when a slight commotion among the band put an end at onceto all his schemes. Casting his eyes behind him, as if fearful of aspeedy interruption, he said, in tones much less pretending than thosehe had first resorted to--

  "Give Weucha the milk of the Long-knives, and he will sing your name inthe ears of the great men of his tribe."

  "Go," repeated the trapper, motioning him away, with strong disgust."Your young men are speaking of Mahtoree. My words are for the ears of achief."

  The savage cast a look at the other, which, notwithstanding the dimlight, was sufficiently indicative of implacable hostility. He thenstole away among his fellows, anxious to conceal the counterfeit he hadattempted to practise, no less than the treachery he had contemplatedagainst a fair division of the spoils, from the man named by thetrapper, whom he now also knew to be approaching, by the manner inwhich his name passed from one to another, in the band. He had hardlydisappeared before a warrior of powerful frame advanced out of the darkcircle, and placed himself before the captives, with that high and proudbearing for which a distinguished Indian chief is ever so remarkable.He was followed by all the party, who arranged themselves around hisperson, in a deep and respectful silence.

  "The earth is very large," the chief commenced, after a pause of thattrue dignity which his counterfeit had so miserably affected; "why canthe children of my great white father never find room on it?"

  "Some among them have heard that their friends in the prairies are inwant of many things," returned the trapper; "and they have come to seeif it be true. Some want, in their turns, what the red men are willingto sell, and they come to make their friends rich, with powder andblankets."

  "Do traders cross the big river with empty hands?"

  "Our hands are empty because your young men thought we were tired, andthey have lightened us of our load. They were mistaken; I am old, but Iam still strong."

  "It cannot be. Your load has fallen in the prairies. Show my young menthe place, that they may pick it up before the Pawnees find it."

  "The path to the spot is crooked, and it is night. The hour is come forsleep," said the trapper, with perfect composure. "Bid your warriors goover yonder hill; there is water and there is wood; let them light theirfires and sleep with warm feet. When the sun comes again I will speak toyou."

  A low murmur, but one that was clearly indicative of dissatisfaction,passed among the attentive listeners, and served to inform the old manthat he had not been sufficiently wary in proposing a measure that heintended should notify the travellers in the brake of the presence oftheir dangerous neighbours. Mahtoree, however, without betraying, in theslightest degree, the excitement which was so strongly exhibited by hiscompanions, continued the discourse in the same lofty manner as before.

  "I know that my friend is rich," he said; "that he has many warriorsnot far off, and that horses are plentier with him, than dogs among thered-skins."

  "You see my warriors, and my horses."

  "What! has the woman the feet of a Dahcotah, that she can walk forthirty nights in the prairies, and not fall! I know the red men of thewoods make long marches on foot, but we, who live where the eye cannotsee from one lodge to another, love our horses."

  The trapper now hesitated, in his turn. He was perfectly aware thatdeception, if detected, might prove dangerous; and, for one of hispursuits and character, he was strongly troubled with an unaccommodatingregard for the truth. But, recollecting that he controlled the fate ofothers as well as of himself, he determined to let things take theircourse, and to permit the Dahcotah chief to deceive himself if he would.

  "The women of the Siouxes and of the white men are not of the samewigwam," he answered evasively. "Would a Teton warrior make his wifegreater than himself? I know he would not; and yet my ears have heardthat there are lands where the councils are held by squaws."

  Another slight movement in the dark circle apprised the trapper thathis declaration was not received without surprise, if entirely withoutdistrust. The chief alone seemed unmoved; nor was he disposed to relaxfrom the loftiness and high dignity of his air.

  "My white fathers who live on the great lakes have declared," he said,"that their brothers towards the rising sun are not men; and now I knowthey did not lie! Go--what is a nation whose chief is a squaw! Are youthe dog and not the husband of this woman?"

  "I am neither. Never did I see her face before this day. She came intothe prairies because they had told her a great and generous nationcalled the Dahcotahs lived there, and she wished to look on men. Thewomen of the pale-faces, like the women of the Siouxes, open their eyesto see things that are new; but she is poor, like myself, and she willwant corn and buffaloes, if you take away the little that she and herfriend still have."

  "My ears listen to many wicked lies!" exclaimed the Teton warrior, ina voice so stern that it startled even his red auditors. "Am I a woman?Has not a Dahcotah eyes? Tell me, white hunter; who are the men of yourcolour, that sleep near t
he fallen trees?"

  As he spoke, the indignant chief pointed in the direction of Ishmael'sencampment, leaving the trapper no reason to doubt, that the superiorindustry and sagacity of this man had effected a discovery, which hadeluded the search of the rest of his party. Notwithstanding his regretat an event that might prove fatal to the sleepers, and some littlevexation at having been so completely outwitted, in the dialoguejust related, the old man continued to maintain his air of inflexiblecomposure.

  "It may be true," he answered, "that white men are sleeping in theprairie. If my brother says it, it is true; but what men thus trustto the generosity of the Tetons, I cannot tell. If there be strangersasleep, send your young men to wake them up, and let them say why theyare here; every pale-face has a tongue." The chief shook his head witha wild and fierce smile, answering abruptly, as he turned away to put anend to the conference--

  "The Dahcotahs are a wise race, and Mahtoree is their chief! He will notcall to the strangers, that they may rise and speak to him with theircarabines. He will whisper softly in their ears. When this is done, letthe men of their own colour come and awake them!"

  As he uttered these words, and turned on his heel, a low and approvinglaugh passed around the dark circle, which instantly broke its order andfollowed him to a little distance from the stand of the captives, wherethose who might presume to mingle opinions with so great a warrior againgathered about him in consultation. Weucha profited by the occasion torenew his importunities; but the trapper, who had discovered how greata counterfeit he was, shook him off in displeasure. An end was, however,more effectually put to the annoyance of this malignant savage, by amandate for the whole party, including men and beasts, to change theirpositions. The movement was made in dead silence, and with an order thatwould have done credit to more enlightened beings. A halt, however, wassoon made; and when the captives had time to look about them, they foundthey were in view of the low, dark outline of the copse, near which laythe slumbering party of Ishmael.

  Here another short but grave and deliberative consultation was held.

  The beasts, which seemed trained to such covert and silent attacks, wereonce more placed under the care of keepers, who, as before, were chargedwith the duty of watching the prisoners. The mind of the trapper wasin no degree relieved from the uneasiness which was, at each instant,getting a stronger possession of him, when he found Weucha was placednearest to his own person, and, as it appeared by the air of triumphand authority he assumed, at the head of the guard also. The savage,however, who doubtless had his secret instructions, was content, forthe present, with making a significant gesture with his tomahawk, whichmenaced death to Ellen. After admonishing in this expressive mannerhis male captives of the fate that would instantly attend their femalecompanion, on the slightest alarm proceeding from any of the party, hewas content to maintain a rigid silence. This unexpected forbearance, onthe part of Weucha, enabled the trapper and his two associates togive their undivided attention to the little that might be seen of theinteresting movements which were passing in their front.

  Mahtoree took the entire disposition of the arrangements on himself. Hepointed out the precise situation he wished each individual to occupy,like one intimately acquainted with the qualifications of his respectivefollowers, and he was obeyed with the deference and promptitude withwhich an Indian warrior is wont to submit to the instructions of hischief, in moments of trial. Some he despatched to the right, andothers to the left. Each man departed with the noiseless and quick steppeculiar to the race, until all had assumed their allotted stations,with the exception of two chosen warriors, who remained nigh the personof their leader. When the rest had disappeared, Mahtoree turned to theseselect companions, and intimated by a sign that the critical moment hadarrived, when the enterprise he contemplated was to be put in execution.

  Each man laid aside the light fowling-piece, which, under the name ofa carabine, he carried in virtue of his rank; and divesting himself ofevery article of exterior or heavy clothing, he stood resembling a darkand fierce looking statue, in the attitude, and nearly in the garb, ofnature. Mahtoree assured himself of the right position of his tomahawk,felt that his knife was secure in its sheath of skin, tightened hisgirdle of wampum and saw that the lacing of his fringed and ornamentalleggings was secure, and likely to offer no impediment to his exertions.Thus prepared at all points, and ready for his desperate undertaking,the Teton gave the signal to proceed.

  The three advanced in a line with the encampment of the travellers,until, in the dim light by which they were seen, their dusky forms werenearly lost to the eyes of the prisoners. Here they paused, lookingaround them like men who deliberate and ponder long on the consequencesbefore they take a desperate leap. Then sinking together, they becamelost in the grass of the prairie.

  It is not difficult to imagine the distress and anxiety of the differentspectators of these threatening movements. Whatever might be the reasonsof Ellen for entertaining no strong attachment to the family in whichshe has first been seen by the reader, the feelings of her sex, and,perhaps, some lingering seeds of kindness, predominated. More than onceshe felt tempted to brave the awful and instant danger that awaited suchan offence, and to raise her feeble, and, in truth, impotent voice inwarning. So strong, indeed, and so very natural was the inclination,that she would most probably have put it in execution, but for the oftenrepeated though whispered remonstrances of Paul Hover. In the breast ofthe young bee-hunter himself, there was a singular union of emotions.His first and chiefest solicitude was certainly in behalf of his gentleand dependent companion; but the sense of her danger was mingled, inthe breast of the reckless woodsman, with a consciousness of a high andwild, and by no means an unpleasant, excitement. Though united to theemigrants by ties still less binding than those of Ellen, he longedto hear the crack of their rifles, and, had occasion offered, he wouldgladly have been among the first to rush to their rescue. There were,in truth, moments when he felt in his turn an impulse, that was nearlyresistless, to spring forward and awake the unconscious sleepers; buta glance at Ellen would serve to recall his tottering prudence, and toadmonish him of the consequences. The trapper alone remained calm andobservant, as if nothing that involved his personal comfort or safetyhad occurred. His ever-moving, vigilant eyes, watched the smallestchange, with the composure of one too long inured to scenes of dangerto be easily moved, and with an expression of cool determinationwhich denoted the intention he actually harboured, of profiting by thesmallest oversight on the part of the captors.

  In the mean time the Teton warriors had not been idle. Profiting by thehigh fog which grew in the bottoms, they had wormed their way throughthe matted grass, like so many treacherous serpents stealing on theirprey, until the point was gained, where an extraordinary caution becamenecessary to their further advance. Mahtoree, alone, had occasionallyelevated his dark, grim countenance above the herbage, straining hiseye-balls to penetrate the gloom which skirted the border of the brake.In these momentary glances he gained sufficient knowledge, added to thathe had obtained in his former search, to be the perfect master ofthe position of his intended victims, though he was still profoundlyignorant of their numbers, and of their means of defence.

  His efforts to possess himself of the requisite knowledge concerningthese two latter and essential points were, however, completely baffledby the stillness of the camp, which lay in a quiet as deep as if itwere literally a place of the dead. Too wary and distrustful to rely, incircumstances of so much doubt, on the discretion of any less firm andcrafty than himself, the Dahcotah bade his companions remain where theylay, and pursued the adventure alone.

  The progress of Mahtoree was now slow, and to one less accustomed tosuch a species of exercise, it would have proved painfully laborious.But the advance of the wily snake itself is not more certain ornoiseless than was his approach. He drew his form, foot by foot, throughthe bending grass, pausing at each movement to catch the smallest soundthat might betray any knowledge, on the part of the travellers, ofhis
proximity. He succeeded, at length, in dragging himself out of thesickly light of the moon, into the shadows of the brake, where notonly his own dark person was much less liable to be seen, but wherethe surrounding objects became more distinctly visible to his keen andactive glances.

  Here the Teton paused long and warily to make his observations, beforehe ventured further. His position enabled him to bring the wholeencampment, with its tent, wagons, and lodges, into a dark but clearlymarked profile; furnishing a clue by which the practised warrior was ledto a tolerably accurate estimate of the force he was about to encounter.Still an unnatural silence pervaded the spot, as if men suppressed eventhe quiet breathings of sleep, in order to render the appearance oftheir confidence more evident. The chief bent his head to the earth, andlistened intently. He was about to raise it again, in disappointment,when the long drawn and trembling respiration of one who slumberedimperfectly met his ear. The Indian was too well skilled in all themeans of deception to become himself the victim of any common artifice.He knew the sound to be natural, by its peculiar quivering, and hehesitated no longer.

  A man of nerves less tried than those of the fierce and conqueringMahtoree would have been keenly sensible of all the hazard he incurred.The reputation of those hardy and powerful white adventurers, who sooften penetrated the wilds inhabited by his people, was well known tohim; but while he drew nigher, with the respect and caution that a braveenemy never fails to inspire, it was with the vindictive animosity of ared man, jealous and resentful of the inroads of the stranger.

  Turning from the line of his former route, the Teton dragged himselfdirectly towards the margin of the thicket. When this material objectwas effected in safety, he arose to his seat, and took a better surveyof his situation. A single moment served to apprise him of the placewhere the unsuspecting traveller lay. The reader will readily anticipatethat the savage had succeeded in gaining a dangerous proximity to oneof those slothful sons of Ishmael, who were deputed to watch over theisolated encampment of the travellers.

  When certain that he was undiscovered, the Dahcotah raised his personagain, and bending forward, he moved his dark visage above the face ofthe sleeper, in that sort of wanton and subtle manner with which thereptile is seen to play about its victim before it strikes. Satisfied atlength, not only of the condition but of the character of the stranger,Mahtoree was in the act of withdrawing his head, when a slight movementof the sleeper announced the symptoms of reviving consciousness. Thesavage seized the knife which hung at his girdle, and in an instant itwas poised above the breast of the young emigrant. Then changing hispurpose, with an action as rapid as his own flashing thoughts, hesunk back behind the trunk of the fallen tree against which the otherreclined, and lay in its shadow, as dark, as motionless, and apparentlyas insensible as the wood itself.

  The slothful sentinel opened his heavy eyes, and gazing upward fora moment at the hazy heavens, he made an extraordinary exertion, andraised his powerful frame from the support of the log. Then he lookedabout him, with an air of something like watchfulness, suffering hisdull glances to run over the misty objects of the encampment untilthey finally settled on the distant and dim field of the open prairie.Meeting with nothing more attractive than the same faint outlines ofswell and interval, which every where rose before his drowsy eyes, hechanged his position so as completely to turn his back on his dangerousneighbour, and suffered his person to sink sluggishly down into itsformer recumbent attitude. A long, and, on the part of the Teton, ananxious and painful silence succeeded, before the deep breathing of thetraveller again announced that he was indulging in his slumbers. Thesavage was, however, far too jealous of a counterfeit to trust to thefirst appearance of sleep. But the fatigues of a day of unusual toil laytoo heavy on the sentinel to leave the other long in doubt. Still themotion with which Mahtoree again raised himself to his knees wasso noiseless and guarded, that even a vigilant observer might havehesitated to believe he stirred. The change was, however, at lengtheffected, and the Dahcotah chief then bent again over his enemy, withouthaving produced a noise louder than that of the cotton-wood leaf whichfluttered at his side in the currents of the passing air.

  Mahtoree now felt himself master of the sleeper's fate. At the same timethat he scanned the vast proportions and athletic limbs of the youth, inthat sort of admiration which physical excellence seldom fails toexcite in the breast of a savage, he coolly prepared to extinguish theprinciple of vitality which could alone render them formidable. Aftermaking himself sure of the seat of life, by gently removing the folds ofthe intervening cloth, he raised his keen weapon, and was about to unitehis strength and skill in the impending blow, when the young man threwhis brawny arm carelessly backward, exhibiting in the action the vastvolume of its muscles.

  The sagacious and wary Teton paused. It struck his acute faculties thatsleep was less dangerous to him, at that moment, than even death itselfmight prove. The smallest noise, the agony of struggling, with whichsuch a frame would probably relinquish its hold of life, suggestedthemselves to his rapid thoughts, and were all present to hisexperienced senses. He looked back into the encampment, turned his headinto the thicket, and glanced his glowing eyes abroad into the wild andsilent prairies. Bending once more over the respited victim, he assuredhimself that he was sleeping heavily, and then abandoned his immediatepurpose in obedience alone to the suggestions of a more crafty policy.

  The retreat of Mahtoree was as still and guarded as had been hisapproach. He now took the direction of the encampment, stealing alongthe margin of the brake, as a cover into which he might easily plunge atthe smallest alarm. The drapery of the solitary hut attracted his noticein passing. After examining the whole of its exterior, and listeningwith painful intensity, in order to gather counsel from his ears, thesavage ventured to raise the cloth at the bottom, and to thrust his darkvisage beneath. It might have been a minute before the Teton chief drewback, and seated himself with the whole of his form without the linentenement. Here he sat, seemingly brooding over his discovery, for manymoments, in rigid inaction. Then he resumed his crouching attitude,and once more projected his visage beyond the covering of the tent. Hissecond visit to the interior was longer, and, if possible, more ominousthan the first. But it had, like every thing else, its termination,and the savage again withdrew his glaring eyes from the secrets of theplace.

  Mahtoree had drawn his person many yards from the spot, in his slowprogress towards the cluster of objects which pointed out the centre ofthe position, before he again stopped. He made another pause, and lookedback at the solitary little dwelling he had left, as if doubtful whetherhe should not return. But the chevaux-de-frise of branches now laywithin reach of his arm, and the very appearance of precaution itpresented, as it announced the value of the effects it encircled,tempted his cupidity, and induced him to proceed.

  The passage of the savage, through the tender and brittle limbs of thecotton-wood, could be likened only to the sinuous and noiseless windingof the reptiles which he imitated. When he had effected his object,and had taken an instant to become acquainted with the nature of thelocalities within the enclosure, the Teton used the precaution to open away through which he might make a swift retreat. Then raising himselfon his feet, he stalked through the encampment, like the master of evil,seeking whom and what he should first devote to his fell purposes.He had already ascertained the contents of the lodge in which werecollected the woman and her young children, and had passed severalgigantic frames, stretched on different piles of brush, which happilyfor him lay in unconscious helplessness, when he reached the spotoccupied by Ishmael in person. It could not escape the sagacity of onelike Mahtoree, that he had now within his power the principal man amongthe travellers. He stood long hovering above the recumbent and Herculeanform of the emigrant, keenly debating in his own mind the chances of hisenterprise, and the most effectual means of reaping its richest harvest.

  He sheathed the knife, which, under the hasty and burning impulse of histhoughts, he had been tempted to draw, and was pa
ssing on, when Ishmaelturned in his lair, and demanded roughly who was moving before hishalf-opened eyes. Nothing short of the readiness and cunning of a savagecould have evaded the crisis. Imitating the gruff tones and nearlyunintelligible sounds he heard, Mahtoree threw his body heavily onthe earth, and appeared to dispose himself to sleep. Though the wholemovement was seen by Ishmael, in a sort of stupid observation, theartifice was too bold and too admirably executed to fail. The drowsyfather closed his eyes, and slept heavily, with this treacherous inmatein the very bosom of his family.

  It was necessary for the Teton to maintain the position he had taken,for many long and weary minutes, in order to make sure that he was nolonger watched. Though his body lay so motionless, his active mind wasnot idle. He profited by the delay to mature a plan which he intendedshould put the whole encampment, including both its effects and theirproprietors, entirely at his mercy. The instant he could do so withsafety, the indefatigable savage was again in motion. He took his waytowards the slight pen which contained the domestic animals, worminghimself along the ground in his former subtle and guarded manner.

  The first animal he encountered among the beasts occasioned a long andhazardous delay. The weary creature, perhaps conscious, through itssecret instinct, that in the endless wastes of the prairies its surestprotector was to be found in man, was so exceedingly docile as quietlyto submit to the close examination it was doomed to undergo. The handof the wandering Teton passed over the downy coat, the meek countenance,and the slender limbs of the gentle creature, with untiring curiosity;but he finally abandoned the prize, as useless in his predatoryexpeditions, and offering too little temptation to the appetite. Assoon, however, as he found himself among the beasts of burden, hisgratification was extreme, and it was with difficulty that he restrainedthe customary ejaculations of pleasure that were more than once on thepoint of bursting from his lips. Here he lost sight of the hazardsby which he had gained access to his dangerous position; and thewatchfulness of the wary and long practised warrior was momentarilyforgotten in the exultation of the savage.