Indian and Scout: A Tale of the Gold Rush to California

Swinging the team round, Jacob set them towards the Indians at a smart pace, while a shout came from the scouts.

"Jest to tell 'em we're perky," smiled Tom. "Gee! They're goin' ter stand up to it, so it'll be a fight. Boys, you kin get in with the shootin' when ye're ready."

A short, sharp and extremely savage conflict followed, during which the Indians crowded round the wagon, while Jacob manœuvred his team in such a manner that they could never actually obtain a grip of the huge conveyance. And all the while Tom and his comrades emptied their weapons into the enemy, knocking numbers out of their saddles. Indeed, never before, in all probability, had this particular tribe been so severely handled, and, unable to face the punishment, they turned swiftly and fled, leaving many of their comrades dotting the plain, while no fewer than seventeen horses stood cropping the grass.

"Which shows that the varmint aer properly scared," said Tom exultingly, when the enemy had broken and fled. "An Injun likes to get away with his dead and wounded ef he kin. Ef he kin't, and leaves, it's a sure sign he's been mauled. Boys, thar are hosses out thar that'll pay to keep. Let's get into our saddles."

Jacob pulled in his team with a jerk, while the hunters leaped from the wagon. Saddles were swiftly thrown on the backs of the horses they had secured to their own wheelers, and in a trice they were riding away. It took but ten minutes to round up the Indian ponies, which were secured together by passing the reins of one through those of another, and so on, till all were secured.

"We can move along now," sang out Tom at length. "Them critters is away over thar watchin', and they'll be back to tend to their men as soon as we're gone. We ain't got nothin' more to fear from 'em. We've give 'em real pepper."

CHAPTER XV
Giving 'em Pepper

It was a jovial party which sat round the camp fire on the evening following the defeat of the Indians, for even the old and tried hunters could not help a feeling of elation.

"It makes yer feel jest like a kid," said Steve, as he blinked in the firelight, and looked across at Jack, who was tending the buffalo steaks hissing over the embers. "It ain't so many hours ago as me and Carrots was, as yer might say, fair up agin it. I didn't look to come out clear. And yet, here we aer, and I'm watchin' thim steaks pretty close, which seems to show as thar ain't nothing much wrong."

"And the back, mate?" asked Tom, striding across towards him, and looking particularly big.

"Jest as well as ever," came the hearty answer. "I'm that young and skittish, seems I could kick the carrots off Jack's head. Hand over one of them steaks, young 'un. A man same as me don't oughter be kept waitin'."

"We was talkin' of pepper," began Jacob, one of the hunters, when the meal was ended, and all were smoking their pipes. "That 'ere word minds me of a time when we give them red devils pepper same as we did to-day, only 'twarn't in these here parts, and we wasn't fer makin' gold in Californy."

"You kin get to at the yarn," sang out Seth promptly. "Thar ain't one of us as feels he aer got any use for a blanket yet awhile, and seem' it's fine and pleasant, why jest wet yer throat, and then let's have it from the beginnin'."

He leaned across to the hunter and handed him a brimming pannikin, which he had just replenished from the keg of spirit the party carried, and from the water bag in which the precious fluid was stored. Jacob let his head fall back promptly, raised the pannikin, and for the moment the silence which had fallen on the camp was broken by the gurgle of the fluid.

"Thanks, mate," gasped Jacob, getting his breath. "We was talkin' of pepper."

"We war," admitted Steve, edging a trifle closer to the fire.

"And we aer fair greedy fer the story," smiled Tom. "You ain't got no call ter look up ter the sky. The yarn ain't thar. Ye've got it stowed in yer head. Give it a shake and out with it. Ef not, I'll send Carrots here ter see whether a little hammerin' won't help you any."

There was a hearty laugh as Tom spoke, but the words made not the smallest difference to Jacob. He sat back on his elbows staring up at the sky, as if endeavouring to collect memories of past times. Jack took a look at the big hunter, wondered whether he himself would ever present such a decidedly manly appearance, and then fell to admiring the heavens too. For they were on the verge of California, and overhead hung a cloudless vault, speckled with such bright, twinkling stars that even the moon rays were paled.

"It war a night same as this," began Jacob at length, "jest fer all the world same as this. The stars and moon that bright and clear yer could see to read easy. Wall, I ain't here ter tell of the stars and sichlike. I'm mindin' the time when I was workin' the cattle fer a boss a goodish way south of this, in a country that's even now more Injun than anythin'. He was rough, war that 'ere boss, and we ended a long day amongst the beasts with sharp and bitter words. I 'low as a man as hires me has a right ter git the value of his dollars outer me. But I don't cotton to no bossin'. I don't see that 'cos a man employs a hand he has a right ter bully him, ter shout names at him, and rile him every hour of the day. That ain't in reason."

He looked round the assembled scouts, as if to gather their views on the matter.

"Git on with it," shouted Steve shortly.

"Them's my views in a nutshell," cried Tom. "No man ain't goin' ter be bullied."

"So I thought," continued Jacob. "And though it war evenin', and dark to be expected precious soon, I jest give the boss back some of the lip he'd been throwin' at me, and at the same time told him I war quittin'. We squared up the wages right off, and then I climbed into my saddle and rid away from the farm. I war mighty angry and hot."

"And likely as not didn't take no partic'lar direction," sang out one of the listeners.

"Ye've got it right and early. I was that mad with the boss I jest kicked the flanks of my hoss and rid right off like a whirlwind. But a man finds a gallop across the grass kinder clears his brain, and takes the anger out of him. I soon got to rememberin' that I hadn't touched a crust sense breakfast, and that war early with the sun risin'.

"Ye're a fool, Jacob," I says to myself. "Ye've rid off hot and hasty, like a child, and now ye've got ter suffer. Whar's best to go?"

"The hoss could tell yer," cried Tom.

"Right agin!" agreed Jacob. "That hoss knew better than me whar I was likely to find food. I've seed the same thing many a time out on the plains. Ef a man's lost, and don't know from Adam whar he aer, it's better to give a free rein and leave it to the mount. Suppose he scents somethin'. Anyway he generally knows whar he's likely to get a feed for himself and a drop of water. I jest give my critter his head, and somewhar's about eleven that night we come to a shanty with a wooden stockade right round it."

"Same as settlers has in an Injun country," remarked Steve.

"The very same, and seems they need them 'ere stockades. Wall, thar the shanty was, outlined clear in the light, lookin' that peaceful yer wouldn't ha' thought a fly could ha' come to harm. But I hadn't got within seventy yards when thar was a flash from the house, high up under the roof, and then a loud report."

"Injuns in already," ventured one of Jacob's companions.

"Wrong, fer sure," growled Steve. "Ef Injuns had been thar, they'd have burned the place within a few minutes. A white's house aer pison to an Injun. It makes him fair mad. He can't keep his hands off it, nor fire away from the roofin'."

"That comes of havin' Injun experience," said Jacob, resuming, and sending a nod in Steve's direction. "It warn't Injuns. All the same, when thar's bullets flyin', reckon one don't sit still thinkin'. I was off my hoss in a jiffy, gettin' cover under the stockade. Then I put my hands to my mouth and sent the folks in the house, whoever they might be, the shout we was used to give in them parts. Heard it?"

He did not wait for an answer, but put his hands at once to his lips, and sent forth a halloo which awoke the echoes.

"Thar ain't no mistake about a call like that," said Jacob, decision in his tones, "and the folks in that shanty couldn't help but know that it was a white man outside, one as was friendly."

"And so the shootin' stopped," suggested Tom.

"Wrong. A bit of a bullet kicked a stone at my feet and sent me howlin'. Reckon a flint can hurt most same as a bullet. Anyway, that 'ere stone give me a blow that staggered me. And after it half a dozen shots rang out from the shanty."

"What in thunder did it all mean?" asked one of the men.

"And then there was a shout, an answerin' shout."

"Yes," said Steve, edging a trifle closer, "an answerin' shout."

"A woman's shout. A shrill sort of a scream. A thing you couldn't call a shout, but there ain't no other name as I knows of."

Jacob looked round at his audience questioningly, while each one of the party wore a different expression on his face.

"Reckon you was wishin' you hadn't row'd with the boss," grinned Tom.

"P'raps you had falled asleep on your hoss," cried Seth, "and was sorter dreamin'."

Jacob snorted with indignation. "As ef that war likely," he cried. "Didn't I say as I howled with pain when the flint struck me? No. You're guessin'. The shanty war there, standin' black in the moonlight, and them shouts were real. They were shrill, and come from a woman. They kind of scared me fer a minute."

"Yer bolted again?" asked Steve.

"I jest hooked the reins over the corner of a post standin' outside the stockade, and clambered over."

"More bullets," suggested one of the men.

"Shots, yes, but not in my direction. Thar was shoutin', a man's and a woman's, and then shootin'. Then the door of the shanty war opened and I ran in."

Jacob stopped for a moment at the most critical point in his narrative, causing all his comrades to sit up expectantly.

"Wall?" demanded Tom irritably, stuffing his pipe with his finger.

"It was Injuns," asserted one of the men. "Yer was taken by a bit of foolin'."

"It warn't," answered Jacob shortly and curtly. "It war a madman."

"A madman! A madman!" The words were bandied from one to another. The listeners looked askance at one another, for madness out on the plains was in those days exceptional, and in nearly every case ended in a terrible tragedy.

"Man or woman?" asked Seth. "Seems either's likely."

"It war the man," said Jacob slowly. "It war the man, a white man, same as you and me. Seems he'd gone suddenly crazy at sight of me, and set to at shootin'. It war his wife's voice I'd heard, her's and her two boys. When I got in to the sorter parlour place in the centre of the shanty, thar she war, with the two young 'uns, holdin' on to the man fer their lives."

"Gee, that war strange!" muttered Steve. "P'raps something outer the ordinary had scared him."

"Or he'd been thinkin' so long about Injuns, and likely attacks, that the thing had kind of got on his mind and unhinged it. I've heard tell of a similar thing afore. A man gets fidgety, specially ef he ain't used to Injuns and the plains, and ain't been brought up to the life. His nerves git shook up, and one fine day, when there ain't no real danger, he takes his own shadow for an enemy, and blazes off with his gun. Often enough it's someone he's most fond of that he shoots."

Tom delivered himself of the statement calmly and slowly. Then he carefully refilled his pipe, while his comrades looked round at one another. Jacob, the slow, ponderous Jacob, who so seldom launched into a tale, had provided the camp with a subject, a riddle, and all struggled to come to a solution.

"It war that, or near it," agreed Tricky Seth.

"Or he'd been ill, and was jumpin' mad in his delirium," suggested another.

"I dunno as you're right or wrong," came slowly from Jacob. "Reckon he war ill, ill with grief and anxiety, and reckon his nerves was fair shook up. He war mad, stark, starin' crazy without a doubt, and we had to make him fast so as he shouldn't do anyone a mischief."

"Yer ain't told us why," cried one of the men. "What had come along to upset this here man so? Somethin' outer the ordinary."

"Yer kin guess so. It war somethin' outer the ordinary, and sense I started this here yarn by sayin' that I knew of a time when we'd given the critters real pepper, you can 'low as it war Injuns as war the cause. Injuns had come along and upset this man till he was worried clean off his head. Now I'll tell yer how it happened. Allen Rivers war a new settler out in them parts, a brave man fer all his madness. He'd been warned time and agin to beware of the Injuns, specially of Hawk Eye, a critter that was chief of a tribe huntin' in that neighbourhood. And yer must understand that although trouble with the redskins war as a general thing to be expected, yet thar war times when powder and lead and sichlike articles was runnin' short in the wigwams, and the critters had need to come in to the white man's settlements and be friendly. Allen Rivers had set up a sorter store. He'd had visits from the Injuns, and he'd done smart business with Hawk Eye. The chief had been that smilin' that Allen had taken him into the stockade, and once into the house, and the Injun had been able to get a good look round. Wall, Allen had two boys – the youngsters that met me on the doorstep – twelve and fourteen years of age, and proper plucked 'uns too; thar war his wife, as brave a woman as you could meet in a week's march, and besides them three, a baby, a gal. Wall, now – "

Jacob coughed. He was one of those slow men who take a deal of rousing, and who seldom indulge in a yarn, but, when once induced to speak, do so at their own pace and leisure. The burly scout was exasperatingly slow in his utterance.

"Ye've got to the pith of it," sang out Steve. "Thar war a baby."

"Thar war. A baby gal, and Injuns has a strange sorter likin' fer baby gals as is the children of white people. They thinks they bring 'em good luck; and it seemed as Hawk Eye's own wife hadn't got no children. No doubt the chief got to tellin' her of Allen Rivers's shanty, of his wife and kids, and set her wishin' fer the gal. Anyway, Hawk Eye had done trade with Allen jest two days before I come there, and seemed to have ridden back to his own place. But that very mornin' the child was taken, taken from its bark crib, which Mrs. Allen had jest set down outside the door of the shanty. And though every one of 'em searched fer all he could, and though Allen climbed on to his horse and rid round and round, thar warn't a trace of the kid, not a trace. But one of the boys picked up a feather, and then they knew as it war Hawk Eye and his people that had done it."

"I've knowed a similar thing," said Steve, interrupting. "Them critters looks upon a white kid as likely to bring 'em victory in their fightin', and fortune in their huntin'. You aer made no error. Push on with it, Jacob."

"Allen guessed that ef they'd taken the kid they might be up to more mischief, and, bein' a nervous, jerky sort of feller, blest ef he didn't go off his head. That's whar we get to when I arrived. Allen warn't no more good. He war, instead, a worry. Thar war me and the two boys and Mrs. Rivers."

"With Injuns round about?"

"With the critters on the far side of the stockade," agreed Jacob. "Seems I had missed 'em by a chance. I was jest a quarter of an hour too early for 'em. But I hadn't been in the shanty more'n a few minutes, and had made Allen fast, when I seed a figure clamberin' over the gate of the stockade. Remember, it war a bright night, same as this, and dead agin the Injun's chances. But they reckoned to take the place easy, and wasn't over cautious."

"Yer give that feller pepper?" asked Seth.

Jacob nodded. "I dropped him same as a bird, and that set 'em howlin'. The shot took 'em all by surprise. They looked to have the gate of the stockade open and to be in the shanty afore Allen and his wife war properly awake. The critters set up a howl that was enough to scare one, and then three of 'em came clamberin' after the man I'd shot.

"'Jest get to them other windows, boys,' I sang out; fer there were loopholes in the corners of the shutters on all four sides of the shanty. 'Shoot down any man as yer kin see, and ef ye're bothered, jest sing out. I'll be with yer in a jiffy.'

"Countin' Mrs. Rivers thar was just four of us, and for ten minutes we was kept precious busy. But them lads could shoot, and their mother like 'em, so that, presently, the critters crept off from the stockade, leavin' seven of their braves chewin' the grass inside. Yer see, they'd stood out clear and easy as they climbed, and, the range bein' a short one, thar warn't no missin'.

"'Gone?' asks Mrs. Rivers, when there wasn't no more of 'em to be seen.

"'Don't yer believe it, ma'am,' I answered. 'Thim critters has got their eyes on the goods in this store, and fer that reason they ain't likely to give up the business. And now there's those braves down thar. We've killed seven of 'em, and the others won't dare to go back to their wigwams with sich a tale, and with nary a scalp to show. They're bound to come agin, and we've got to look precious lively. Thar ain't no sayin' whar they'll come, but come they will, yer kin take my davy. Ef I wasn't sure that the critters was outside, I'd suggest that one of the youngsters tried to leg it away from the shanty so as to fetch help. But they're outside, the skunks, and on a night same as this the lad wouldn't stand a ghostly.'

"Wall, mates, we got back to our loopholes, and kept a pretty close watch fer a couple of hours without seein' a sight of them Injuns. But they was thar, close outside. I heard 'em callin' to one another. Then suddenly I cottoned to what the artful critters was doin'. The moon was sinkin', but as bright as ever, and them Injuns reckoned that one of the walls of the stockade was castin' a biggish shadow on the yard inside. They war busy diggin' their way in under it."

There was a murmur from the hunters assembled round the fire.

"Jest like the critters," growled Steve. "I've knowed 'em do the same in similar cases. And the wust of the business aer this: yer kin feel sure as that aer their game, and sense the shadow's deepest in one partic'lar spot, yer kin reckon to a foot or two whar they're diggin'. But yer can't stop the varmint. Ef yer put an eyelid over the stockade, there's a man ready with an arrow, and ef you think to blaze at 'em through the woodwork, why, it aer like loosin' off a gun into the air. Even ef you hit a man, the others jest lie quiet, so yer don't know what's happened. But maybe one of the critters gets to the hole ye've made in the stockade, and then it's your turn to look out fer bullets."

"Jest so. That's how we war situated," agreed Jacob. "It war one of them tarnation bothers that tries a man's nerves. I'd been in more than one ruction with the redskins afore that day, and I knew somethin' about the critters. It war as clear as daylight that when they war ready they'd let the earth on our side fall in, and then the varmint would come rushin' fer the shanty. It war an almighty fix. It jest made me give up thinkin'. I got lookin' fer the first of them critters to come clamberin' in, and listenin' all the while to Mrs. Rivers prayin'. Then one of them bright lads come out with a suggestion."

"Ah! That's like Carrots," ventured Tom. "'Tain't always the old hand that kin manage a fix of that sort. What war his partic'lar idea? Blest ef I ain't mighty bothered."

"I'll tell yer. It war a case with him of kill or cure, as you'll agree as I get on with the story. And he didn't come straight to me to ask what I thought of the business. Joe war his name, and a kid chuck-full of larnin'. Wall, seems he got rummagin' in the place whar his father stored the stuff he traded with the Injuns, and then slips outer the door.

"'Joe's gone out ter see what he kin do with 'em,' says Hal, his brother, comin' across the shanty to where I was watchin'. 'Jest see you don't shoot him.'

"Yer kin guess I was mighty surprised. 'Gone outside!' I cried. 'Why, they'll shoot him quicker than ever I shall. What for? What's he doin'?'"

"Hal hadn't a notion, and so, seein' as something precious bad might come of it, I slipped out of the shanty to join him. And when I came to the edge of the stockade whar we reckoned the Injuns was diggin', there warn't a doubt that they was there, on the far side of the woodwork, precious near ready to break through and finish the matter. Joe war there, lyin' on his face, and sense I knew they'd hear me ef I even whispered, I laid down beside him and learned what he was doin'. He was diggin' fast with his fingers, tearin' the turf and soil away bit by bit, and makin' not so much as a sound to give the enemy a warnin'. Within four feet of him, perhaps, there was Injuns workin' at the same game, cuttin' the earth away with their knives and tomahawks, and ef I was asked to guess their true position, I should say as they were closer even than that, and in a little while would be carving their way into the hole which Joe war making.

"Two foot ahead of Joe there war a dark object, and when I crept across to feel around it, and see what it was, you kin guess I jest started. It war a powder keg, same as we carry, already opened, and ready for firin'."

There was excitement now on the faces of the men gathered round the camp fire. Excitement and some curiosity. For difficulty and danger were everyday affairs to these scouts, and a tale which demonstrated the cunning of the Indians, and the bravery and resource of those who were opposed to this deadly enemy, was always sure of an attentive hearing. Tom drew in a deep breath, while Steve grunted.

"Powder," he said, as if he were thinking deeply. "That war a kill-or-cure remedy sure! Seems to me that ef you could be sartin of gettin' the hull crowd of the Injuns close together, yer might kill a heap and scare the rest so badly as to make 'em ride away. But ef yer failed, why, it stands to reason yer would blow a hole through your stockade big enough to allow a hull tribe of the critters to pass, and might jest as well be askin' fer a funeral. Get along, Jacob. Yer make a man want to be tellin' the story hisself, instead of waitin' fer you."

"It war a case of kill or cure," agreed the burly scout, ignoring Steve's remarks, "but Joe warn't the boy to spoil his plan for a bit of waitin'. He finished that hole while I lay thar, and popped in his keg extry careful. Then he rammed the earth round it with his fists, laid his fuse, and sat listenin'.

"'We'll wait till one of them strikes the keg with his knife,' he whispered, fer the Injuns happened to be making a tidy heap of noise, and so there warn't no fear of their hearin'. 'That'll be the time ter fire it.'

"And jest yer remember to lie as flat as yer kin when yer put down the match,' I answered. 'The explosion of that powder will smash the stockade to pieces, and I ain't so sure as it won't wreck the shanty.'

"Wall, to come to the end of it, Joe waited there listenin' like a terrier till there war the sharp click of a knife falling on the keg, and a grunt from one of the Indians. That war enough for us. Joe and I crept away from the place as quickly as we could, yer may guess, and lay down agin at the far end of the trail, which was jest outside the shanty. Then Joe lifted his pistol, laid the muzzle along the train, and drew his trigger as steady as if he warn't shootin' nothin' in partic'lar. Them critters was smashed to pieces. That is, eight or nine of them was killed by the explosion."

A chorus of exclamations came from the assembled hunters. There was a sparkle about their eyes which showed that they had listened to the narrative with more than usual attention.

"Gee! That war a brave kid!" cried Seth. "A right down plucked 'un! What happened? The hull stockade war blown to matchwood, one would guess, and perhaps the shanty with it? Git on! Fer a slow 'un ye're as bad as any I've ever met."

Jacob grinned. He was slow, and he knew it. At the same time he was far too cool and burly an individual to be intimidated.

"I never was a hustler," he said, "and I'm too old now to begin. Ef Seth, thar, Tricky Seth, as he's ginerally known, aer in a hurry, why, I'll quit talkin', and he kin take the field. I'm always game to listen."

"Get in at it, Jacob, man!" shouted Tom, shaking his fist at the hunter. "That 'ere kid fired the trail with his pistol, and the keg of powder blew the Injun varmint to pieces. Wall – "

"Wall, someone's asked about the stockade. It war broke into tiny pieces. Joe and me was hoisted pretty nigh on to the roof of the shanty, while the door of the place was shook clear off its hinges. Old man Rivers, as was as mad as any hatter a minute before, was blowed back to his proper senses. Leastwise, all I knows is that he was crazy afore the explosion, and afterwards, when me and young Joe had picked ourselves up, and had kinder cleared the dust and dirt away – fer we was properly covered – Allen war smilin' all over, and talkin' to his wife as ef he hadn't never been mad. And warn't he proud of that ere kid!"

"What about the Injuns?" demanded one of the listeners eagerly; for, after all, the whole point in the narrative depended upon them. Scouts, one and all, could appreciate a gallant if desperate action, fer they were brave men themselves; but their interest, once the tale of daring and courage on the part of their own race was told, was centred in the common enemy, the Red Indian warrior, the fierce man of the plains who had waged such ceaseless warfare with the white invaders of his hunting-grounds, who had caused them such cruel losses, and who, because of his terrible cruelty – because he killed not men alone, but women and children – was detested by hunters and prospectors throughout the country. It was the attackers Seth and his comrades longed to hear about.

"They was blowed to pieces," said Steve. "Wall, what become of the rest? There was more than eight or nine of the varmint."

"There was fifty, as we reckoned," said Jacob solemnly, "and they was scared pretty nigh outer their lives. Hawk Eye, him that had caused the whole ruction, rid off as ef there was powder kegs exploding under his horse's heels all the way; and reckon they got back to the wigwams fewer than when they left, and with a yarn to give that would make the squaws howl at 'em. They was beat, mates, badly beat, and a slip of a boy did it. Old man Rivers had come back to his senses properly, and guess he set to at once to rig up his stockade again, and make all ready against another attack. And ef he was a wise man – and I heard tell as his madness didn't ever occur agin – he never afterwards made the mistake of lettin' a red-skinned varmint look into his store. Them critters is never to be trusted. Ef they find ye're rich, ye've kinder asked them to come in the first time thar's an opportunity, and take yer scalp and everything that's yours. Keep the varmint at arm's length is my motto; or, better still, keep 'em always well ahead of your gun, and see as ye've powder and ball handy."

The burly hunter subsided into silence, reached for the pannikin, and poured himself out a helping of spirit. He filled up with water, tossed his head back into characteristic position, and again the gurgle of fluid was heard. For scouts were rough men; their manners were not of the nicest.

As for his listeners, they began a very animated discussion as to the merits of the yarn just narrated, and the incident of which Jacob had been a witness recalled many another incident, totally unlike that recorded by him, but nevertheless showing the courage and resource of the white man and the determination of the common enemy. Then Steve imposed silence upon the group by stirring the fire vigorously with his boot and causing the sparks to fly upwards.

"Mates," he said in his dry-as-dust style, "mates, this here Jacob ha' given us a yarn that kinder stirs a man, and we aer glad to hear as he had a hand in beatin' them varmint. He was caught in a muss, so to say, and, seein' he had rowed with his boss, and got lost on the plains, why, seems he had hisself to blame. Still, ef he hadn't arrived at old man Rivers's shanty, them critters would ha' broke in, fer Jacob shot down the first as climbed the stockade. He came out of the muss nicely, and now that he ha' told us, he has gone silent agin, same as he is generally. But he ain't finished, not by a bit."

All looked across at the burly hunter. Jacob was filling his pipe in a dogged sort of manner, and scowled at Steve as he finished speaking.

"Thar ain't no more," he growled; "leastwise, none that I'm goin' ter tell. Besides, it's husky work talkin'. I've finished. Reckon it's time we took to our blankets."

"Yer ain't said never a word about that 'ere kid that Hawk Eye stole from the Rivers's," accused Steve, pointing a finger at Jacob.

"And I ain't goin' ter," came the short, sturdy answer. "I've done talkin' fer the night. Time we was turnin' in."

There was a scowl on his face, and something more. The big scout, usually so stolid and so transparently straightforward, looked confused and almost ashamed of himself. He made a grimace at Steve, and commenced to rise from his seat. But Tom put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Steve aer the lad fer spottin' things," he laughed. "Let's have the rest of the yarn."

"I ain't goin' ter talk no more," came the surly answer.

"Then I'll give the yarn, mates."

It was Bill Huskins who spoke, "Black Bill", as he was known, because of his dark complexion. He was short and wiry, like Steve, a merry enough fellow, but given to taciturnity and silence, as was customary with scouts. He grinned across at Jacob, ignored his threatening gestures, and then put himself into a position of ease, as if determined to tell his tale, whatever happened.

"I war along with that 'ere boss as had the words with Jacob," he announced, "and seein' as Jacob thar', ain't able ter speak, why, I'll get in with the yarn. Thar's more to tell. A hull heap more. That 'ere kid was took right off to Hawk Eye's wigwams, and it stands to reason white folks wasn't goin' ter sit down and put up with sich a thing. 'Sides, Mrs. Rivers swore as she'd ride there all alone herself, ef there wasn't a man ter do it. So in course we went, and here's what happened."