Bill Biddon, Trapper Part 10

"Thar's been a beaver taken out of that one!" he remarked, as the last one was reached. "It's lucky for the sneakin' coward that I didn't see him. He wouldn't 'sturbed any more gentlemen's traps."

"Are you sure it is an Indian who has been annoying you?"

"Wogh! Don't you s'pose I could tell a red's track from a grizzly's?"

"But it might have been a white man--some hunter or trapper?" I suggested.

"A white man wouldn't be mean 'nough to do sich a thing, 'less it war some of those Hudson Bay fellers. They try them tricks sometimes, but they git come up to. I catched a feller once from Fort Hall at mine, and the way I walked into him war a caution; but this ar' an Injin's track, sure."

"Do you suspect there could be a number in the vicinity?"

"Ef there war, I'd've heard of 'em afore. This is some varmint, sneakin' round yer, and he's got to be rubbed out afore he makes more trouble."

"I fear that will be a difficult and dangerous job."

"Let me be for that."

Shortly after we reached our home, and running the canoe beneath the bushes, entered it. We were somewhat surprised to find Nat absent. He returned, however, in a short time, and I saw at once by his nervous, fl.u.s.tered manner that something unusual had occurred. Biddon questioned him rather closely, as he suspected something, but Nat evaded his inquiries, and would not admit that he had seen anything to excite alarm or apprehension.

"I'm goin' out, and when I come back I'll tell you what's the matter with them traps," said Biddon, seizing his rifle and departing.

I waited until he was beyond hearing, and then turning to my companion, asked,

"What is the matter with you, Nat?"

"Why?" he asked, in turn, with a start.

"Because you show plainly that something has occurred to alarm you."

He remained silent a moment, and then seizing his hat, jerked it off his head, and threw it spitefully down, where he gazed at it a second, and exclaimed,

"I'm sick of this."

"Sick of what?"

"Why, of being in this fix."

"I don't understand you. Please explain what you mean."

"I should think you ought to know."

"But I do not."

"Why, this wood is full of Injins; they're behind every tree and stump, and in every bush, and you can hardly step without pitching over some painted heathen."

"I am afraid you are exaggerating," I answered, suppressing a smile which was struggling at the corners of my mouth.

"No, I ain't. I swow there are ten thousand Injins just waiting outside to pounce upon us."

"You are talking nonsense, and you know it."

"Well, there's _one_ Injin, for I seen him. Come now," he affirmed, as if the matter was now settled beyond a question.

"Ah! that alters the case considerably. I shouldn't wonder at all if there is one or a half-dozen savages in the forest."

"If you see _one_ savage haven't you a right to suppose there's a hundred more about, I should like to know?"

"Not always, Nat; I have seen three myself, yet I do not believe there is another one in the neighborhood. But I have not heard the particulars of this affair of which you have been speaking. Please let me hear them."

"There isn't much to tell, but there is enough to make you do a heap of thinking. You see, after you had left, I took a notion that I must have a morning ramble; and I thought, too, there might be such a thing as you two running into danger and needing my help (I should like to know what you are laughing at). So, on the whole, there was no hesitation upon my part. Taking my rifle out, I was soon making my way as noiselessly as possible, in a direction from the river.

"I hadn't gone more than a dozen yards before I commenced thinking about Injins, and came nigh going back again. I wasn't afraid at all, you know, but then it appeared to me I might bring you and Biddon into trouble. However, I kept on. I had gone some distance further, when all of a sudden I heard a terrible whirr and rattle, and jumped clean off my feet. But it was only a big owl which I had stirred up. I was so provoked at the start he gave me, that I should have wrung his neck had I got my hands upon him. But I went on. Pretty soon I reached a little stream of water, and as I jumped across, what do you suppose I saw in the sand?"

"I am sure I cannot tell."

"Nothing less than a big moccasin track. And what was more, it hadn't been made there a week before! I stood and looked at it a good while, cogitating some wonderful things. At last I stooped and went to measuring it. I was just going to rise, when I heard a grunt right by me. I jumped up so quick--to be ready, you know--that I floundered backward into the water. And I may be shot if there wasn't a big painted Injin standing not ten feet off. He didn't say a word, but just stood and looked at me with them awful eyes of his. As soon as I could think, I raised my gun, took a quick aim, and pulled the trigger; but the infernal gun snapped. I pulled it again, but it wouldn't go, and I just happened to think the thing wasn't loaded. All this time the painted imp stood grinning at me, without saying a word, except to kinder grunt. He had a big s.h.i.+ning gun in one hand, and I was dreadful afraid he would shoot it. I told him not to stir, but to stand still till I got mine loaded, and he waited. But somehow or other, I s'pose I was in such a hurry that things wouldn't go right.

Instead of putting the powder in the gun-barrel, I crammed it in my pocket, and jammed the ramrod into my shoe. I told the Injin to have patience and I'd get it loaded in a minute. I got it fixed somehow at last and hauled it up to my shoulder, when, no Injin was there! I looked behind, all about me, and up into the trees but he'd been spirited away somewhere. However, I made up my mind to shoot at the spot where he had stood, and I up and blazed away. That is, I blazed away without the gun going off. I believe he spirited that too."

"Let me examine it. Perhaps you made some blunder."

"No, I'm sure I didn't."

I took the rifle, with a smile of certainty that I should find something the matter with it. Sure enough the muzzle was crammed with paper, and upon removing it, _a pipestem_, broken in pieces, rolled out, while there was not a grain of powder in the barrel.

"I declare, I forgot about the powder!" exclaimed Nat, opening his eyes in wonder.

"But not about the bullet," I laughed, pointing to the fragments of his pipe.

"How'd that get there?" he angrily asked.

"That's the question."

"I didn't put it there."

"Who did, then?"

"I don't know, I declare."

Nat picked up the fragments and examined them carefully.

"That's my pipe sure; and I had it in my mouth, I remember when I started out, and missed it coming back. I didn't put it in the gun though."

"Let it pa.s.s then. Did you see no more of your Indian friend?"

"No; he knew enough to keep out of my way. I waited a long time for him, and at last started home again. I kept an eye on every suspicious object, but as I just said, seen nothing."

At this point I gave free vent to my pent-up mirth. Nat, much astonished, looked wonderingly at me, seemingly at a loss to understand the cause.

"I do not see what there is to laugh at," he remarked, reprovingly.