Bill Biddon, Trapper Part 9

"You hain't!" he exclaimed, starting up from his bed of skins with such suddenness as to break the remains of his pipe.

"I have; and, what is considerably more, they have seen me."

"I should think it was considerably more, umph! What did you do to them? I didn't hear you shoot. Why didn't you tell me before? Why didn't you--why, it seems to me you're very cool about it."

"There is no occasion for excitement at all. Just remain quiet, and I will tell you how it all happened."

And thereupon I related the particulars of the incident already known to the reader. Nat's wonder, excitement, and apprehension were roused to the highest pitch at the narration. Springing to his feet, he pulled his flattened hat violently over his forehead, and striding about a moment, demanded:

"Why didn't you tell Bill? Like as not he'll be shot and scalped before he gets back."

"I did not think it best," I returned. "Biddon is not the man to walk into danger with his eyes shut, and if there is any cause for fear, he will discover it soon enough."

"Suppose he will; but ain't it terrible?"

"Isn't what terrible?"

"Why, that we're surrounded by Injins, thirsting for our blood!"

"We are not surrounded by Indians, Nat," I returned, reprovingly.

"I know; but then they are all around us. It won't do to stick our heads out, except at night, and then, like as not, we'll be shot for our trouble."

"You are not afraid, I hope."

"Oh, no! not a bit; but then you know it's rather _unpleasant_ to feel that those infarnal Blackfeet (because this is the country of the Blackfeet Injins) are all about you, and waiting for a chance to shoot you from behind every bush."

"Nat," I commenced, earnestly, "you say you are not afraid of Indians, and yet you show it in every word, look, and action. There is no excuse for this. I saw only two savages, and a girl, evidently a captive; no words or actions were exchanged between us. They disappeared very suddenly and were, more probably, frightened at my presence. I see nothing in this to excuse the excitement and terror you have exhibited."

"I wonder what that girl is?"

"I am afraid you will have to wonder a long time, as I can see no occasion for satisfying your curiosity."

"Is she good looking?" asked my companion, seriously.

"Very! What makes you ask that question?"

"I declare, if I don't marry her, just to spite Alminy, and make Bill Hawkins mad," he exclaimed, joyously.

At this point I could restrain my mirth no longer; but, as I indulged it, I was considerably surprised to feel a slight twinge of jealousy at his words. This discovery was painful.

"I am afraid you will meet with several formidable obstacles, before you can accomplish that; the most difficult of which will be to obtain an audience with the fair one herself."

"Don't suppose she'd be very anxious to see me; and I wouldn't care if I only had my pipe and jack-knife to pa.s.s away time with."

"I think it would be as well not to mention this affair to Biddon."

"Why not?"

"It can do no good, and he would be displeased at the thoughtlessness I have evidenced. I do not think there are savages enough in the vicinity to render us fearful of our safety. The canoe, I am disposed to believe, belongs to some tribe quite distant from here."

"But what are they here for?"

"I can only conjecture. Biddon has never seen savages in this particular section, and these may be returning from some journey to their tribe."

"Perhaps so, and may be not. These plagued Injins sometimes live in one place and sometimes in another, you know, and it may be that a notion has just entered their heads to come and live in these parts."

"There is reason in what you say, but, as I stated, if danger threatens, Biddon will undoubtedly detect its signs himself in time."

"I think he will, though I shall feel a little fl.u.s.tered every time he goes out. You remember when he was after the antelope, he walked right among the Injins, without knowing it till it was too late to stop."

"He did, it is true, but how nicely he walked out again. I tell you, Nat, that fellow has nerve equal to any emergency. What man, when conscious of an overwhelming foe being concealed within a few feet of him, could have repressed every sign of trepidation or fear, as he did, and bring the antelope through the same fearful ordeal, with the same coolness and deliberation?"

"That was a clever thing, I allow."

"Biddon told me he felt a little nervous when he saw us start to come up to him, for, if we had reached him, it would have been all up with us. He called out to us, though we did not hear him, that there were more animals in the grove, and our approach would frighten them. The impatient Indians were thus held at bay, in the hope of being offered a better opportunity to accomplish our ruin, until it was too late to accomplish anything save the loss of two or three of their number.

Such a man, I repeat, will scent danger soon enough without the help of others."

"He will, and I hope he'll find out who that white girl is."

"Nat, do you remember the account Biddon gave some time ago of a horrible ma.s.sacre, upon the sandy island near where we encamped one night?"

"I don't think there is much likelihood of my ever forgetting it."

"You will also recall his account of the capture of a small child by the savages? Now, it has occurred to me that this is that child grown to womanhood."

"I _know_ it is!" exclaimed Nat, joyously.

"It is true there is much against it. It was a great distance from here, but as these savages wander hundreds of miles at times, it is not improbable, upon that ground. Instances are only too common of persons spending their lives in captivity among these Indian tribes.

She is a captive, beyond a doubt, and must long for restoration to her home and friends. If possible, I am bound to know more of her."

"So am I!" exclaimed my excitable companion.

"As I said, we will say nothing of this to Biddon, until he discovers signs of Indians himself. To-morrow, we will go forth together, and spend the day in endeavoring to gain traces of the canoe and its inmates; and if anything is discovered which is alarming, we will impart it to him."

This Nat agreed to, and shortly after we heard three raps upon the outside of the tree--the trapper's signal of his presence. A moment after, he made his appearance. He was considerably elated at his prospect for a goodly quant.i.ty of furs; had set a number of traps; was sure of half a dozen next day; had seen no signs of Indians, and was convinced there were none in the vicinity. None of us pa.s.sed out again that day, but remained indulging in our pipes and conversation as usual, until a late hour.

The next morning the trapper proposed that I should accompany him upon his daily round. I complied, while Nat remained behind.

The day was as warm and pleasant as the preceding one, and the forest and stream as delightful. Biddon paddled slowly up the unrippled surface, and in a short time reached the first trap; it had not been disturbed. Still hopeful, he pa.s.sed on to the second and third and all the others. But there were no signs of beaver in any.

"Shoot me, that's quar'!" he exclaimed, thoughtfully, as he saw the last one. "I don't understand it; I must git out and take a look round."

He sprang ash.o.r.e, and minutely examined the ground around. A few seconds sufficed. He looked up with a gleam of deep meaning, and said:

"Here's the track of a thunderin' moccasin. The reds have found us out."

He stepped into the canoe, and taking the paddle moved it carefully back again. He touched at each trap on the way. The footprints of a stranger were visible at each.