CHAPTER VI.

WHAT THE TELESCOPE REVEALED.

All this was very entertaining, especially when “Speckled Beauty,” the hero of the tale, was before the listener, prancing and cavorting, as though he appreciated the compliments of the old mountaineer, but Harry could not forget the fact that their errand was to discover Little Rifle, of whose fate as yet they had not gained the slightest inkling.

“But, Uncle Ruff, what of _her_? Have you no good news to tell me?”

He sobered on the instant the question was asked, and shook his head.

“I’m afeard not. You see I had an idee that Maquesa was at the head of this party, and, as soon as I got in good range of ’em, I laid down and watched. I counted ’em over a half-dozen times, and found thar war just eight. But the old codger wasn’t among ’em. To make sarten, I waited in the bushes till they all got aboard and shoved off, thinkin’ p’raps Maquesa was somewhar out of sight; but he warn’t, and then I started to hunt you up, and found you and Speckled Beauty, waltzin’ ’round the camp-ground.”

“Suppose you had seen the Blackfoot chief,” inquired Harry, “suppose you had discovered that he was at the head of this little party, what clew would that have given you? What would such a fact have told you about Little Rifle?”

“I had an idee that if I seen him, I’d see the gal too. If them varmints hadn’t looked so mighty ugly, I’d gone in among ’em, and axed about the health of Maquesa, and l’arned whether he’d been seen in these parts lately, but it didn’t look as though thar war much show fur me. Still I believe that that varmint is at the bottom of this business, and the fust thing I’m going to l’arn is whether he’s been seen in this neighborhood. If he has he’s the roo-ter we’re going fur.”

“Uncle Ruff,” said Harry, as a bright idea struck him, “isn’t there some way in which we can turn this bear to account? It seems to me that such a strange, wonderful-looking animal would scare any Indian out of his wits.”

“That’s what I’ve used him fur,” replied the bear-tamer. “These Blackfeet don’t know much about hair-dye and such stuff, though they can paint up their faces, and when they see Speckled Beauty they’re apt to think he’s something of a spirit. Ef he’ll only scare _them_ as much as he does these younkers that go snoopin’ ’round Injin camps, they’ll never git over it, as long as they live.”

Harry could but “acknowledge the corn,” pleading as an excuse that any one unacquainted with Speckled Beauty could not look upon him without agitation.

Old Ruff then announced his intention of continuing the pursuit of these red-skins toward the Cascade Range, as he had strong reason to suspect that they would be joined by Maquesa before they advanced much further.

Harry was unable to understand what his reasons were for this persistent belief, but he knew he was too clear-headed to follow any phantom, and that there was good cause to expect tangible results from such a course.

But, there remained the trifling difficulty already alluded to. This course was taking them further and further away from the fort, and the old hunter could not consent that the lad should accompany him, until he had received the permission of his father.

This necessitated quite a _detour_, and the loss of much valuable time; but happily this necessity was averted by the unexpected appearance of Mr. Northend himself.

While the two were talking, they heard voices, and the next moment three men emerged to view. All were mounted upon horses, and one was a hunter and guide well known to old Robsart, who instantly went forward to greet him, while Harry hurried up to salute his parent.

Considerable time was passed before a full understanding all round was reached. Mr. Northend, under the guidance of Matt Muggs, a noted scout, was making a sort of tour with a friend through this part of Oregon, in the interests of the Missouri Fur Company, and was now on his way back to Fort Abercrombie, with the intention of soon leaving there for home by way of San Francisco.

It required considerable persuasion before he would give his consent for his son to go off on what he termed this “wild-goose expedition,” but he finally gave in, and, after some further exchange of friendly converse, and the acceptance of quite a sum of money upon the part of the boy, in order to defray all possible expenses, the two parties were about separating to go their respective ways, when old Robsart, noticing that the trio had come by a route that must have given them a view of the river, asked Matt whether he had seen any thing of a party of Blackfeet within the last hour.

“I reckon,” was the instant response; “thar’s a party of ’em less nor a mile off in thar boats, steerin’ straight for the kenyon in the mountains. As they was a-comin’ from this way you must have see’d the same skunks, Ruff?”

“So we did,” replied the hunter; “them’s the coves we’re follerin’. Did you count ’em, Matt?”

“Allers does that, when I kin git a fair squint at ’em. They war in two canoes, and thar war just ten of ’em—”

“What?” demanded old Robsart in great excitement, “sure of that, Matt?”

“I reckon I kin count ten, ef I can’t count any more, and I ciphered up them skunks twice, as I had an all-fired notion of takin’ a crack at one of ’em. Howsumever, you can ax Mr. Farrell, or Northend here, ’cause they seen ’em too.”

“Yes,” replied the latter gentleman, “I remember distinctly that Matt remarked that there were ten, upon which I counted them and found that he was right. But, why are you so deeply interested in this particular party?” asked Northend, as he reined up his horse.

“’Cause I think that little pet that I’m arter is among ’em, that’s all. I don’t s’pose you noticed, Matt, if the old chief Maquesa was with ’em?”

“No,” answered the hunter, “they war just fur enough off for me to see fairly, and I wa’n’t thinkin’ ’bout nothin’ of the kind, or I’d tuk a little closer peep on your account. If you think the little gal is among ’em you’d better be off with your Speckled Beauty.”

The three horsemen paused for some time to watch the curiously colored animal, as it went prancing and lumbering after its master, and when it was out of sight, they resumed their progress toward the fort.

“Just what I thought,” exclaimed Old Ruff, in some excitement, as soon as they were alone; “the pet is thar, and she and Maquesa make up the extra two, that Matt spoke about.”

“But, where did they join the party?”

“Somewhar further ’long, and I b’lieve now,” continued the mountaineer in his emphatic way, “that the whole caboodle of ’em have come over here after Little Rifle. Maquesa has l’arned somethin’ that has made him s’pect the gal that was left in his charge is the same one that I’ve been bringin’ up, and he’s come over the mountains in s’arch of her.”

“All that looks reasonable,” replied Harry, “but I haven’t heard or thought of any thing yet that can make me understand the course of Little Rifle in the business. _That_ is the mystery which passes my comprehension.”

A troubled look crossed the face of the hunter, and he stared earnestly in the countenance of the lad for a moment, and then asked in a low voice:

“Shall I tell you what it means?”

“If you can?” replied Harry, intensely eager to hear his explanation.

“Wal, I can—I can see it all; I know more ’bout the pet than you do, and it all come to me why she left you in that style, when you war asleep by the camp-fire.”

Harry Northend stared wonderingly at the hunter, as if he doubted his sanity. But the old man was never in clearer mood, and he was in dead earnest. But now, when the very words seemed trembling upon his tongue, he hesitated, as if unwilling to pronounce them. He appeared indeed to control his emotions only by the strongest effort.

Harry waited, wondering what the words would be; but they came not, and the trapper, who had partly paused in his walk, now walked faster, as if seeking to get away from some exceedingly painful recollection.

Under any other circumstances, the lad would have respected this embarrassment upon the part of his friend; but, where Little Rifle was concerned, he was unwilling to do so, and he put the question direct.

“What is it that you were going to say about our lost friend? You have raised my curiosity, and I hope it wasn’t merely for the purpose of tantalizing it by a refusal to reveal what it is you know.”

Robsart was silent a moment, and then he spoke briefly but with much feeling.

“No; I didn’t do it fur that, younker, fur I think too much of you—but I was in too much of a hurry when I spoke; I can’t tell you yit; the time will come after awhile; wait till then; I won’t forgit.”

There was no refusing such a request as this, much as it distressed Harry to do so. He resolved that he would make no further reference to the matter until the trapper, in his own good time, should see fit to make clear the mysterious references that had escaped his lips.

The great purpose now was to overhaul the Blackfoot party before they got beyond their reach. This seemed easy enough, as they had no cause to fear pursuit, and their quite lengthy halt for dinner looked as if they intended to continue their journey in a very leisurely manner.

True they had their canoes, and if they chose they could easily maintain a speed that would carry them much more swiftly than their pursuers, but they were not likely to do so, for the simple reason, that there was no occasion (at least in their estimation) for such haste, and Maquesa was not a chief who was accustomed to run away from an enemy, even when he was more powerful than he.

And so, making all haste, the two continued down the banks of the river, moving almost due westward, until they struck another elevation which gave them an extended view of the river flowing away before them. And to their delight they saw the two canoes about half a mile distant, paddling along with a tardy deliberation, that showed they thought and cared little for all who might choose to follow them.

In an instant, Old Ruff had Harry’s telescope to his eye. In a moment his face lit up and he passed it back again with:

“Take a squint at that front canoe, and tell me what you see.”

And the boy looked and saw beyond all mistake, that Little Rifle was sitting in the forward canoe!