Chapter 8

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mr Rawlings, as he and Ernest Wilton looked at one another for a second in blank consternation--"I hope nothing serious has happened!" And he was just about to dash into the river and wade across to the other side, in the direction from whence Seth's shout for succour came, when the young engineer stopped him.

"You'd better wait a minute," said Ernest. "The prairie is a wide place, and sounds seem to come from one point when in reality they emanate from an entirely different spot; so, in hurrying thus to Seth's assistance, you may take the longest way to reach him. Let us return to the place where he and the boy crossed the stream; and, as soon as we reach the other bank opposite and find their track I'll put Wolf on the scent, and we'll come up with them much more quickly than you could do by crossing here and spending some time perhaps in hunting about in the brushwood over there before you could find any trace of his footsteps."

"You're right," said Mr Rawlings. "Two heads are better than one. But, pray lose no time about it," he added, as Seth's call was again heard, sounding more loudly than before--

"Help! ahoy, there! Help!"

The path back to where the entire party had halted on the bank of the river before separating, according to Mr Rawlings' suggestion, was not difficult to trace. Then, fording the stream at the point where Seth and Sailor Bill had waded across, they searched about for their tracks up and down a short distance until they were likewise found, when their task became comparatively easy, as the dog's aid was now of use.

"Hi, Wolf!" said Ernest Wilton, drawing his hand over the footmarks of Seth's heavy boots, where they entered the dense mass of brushwood below the pine-trees. "Good dog! Fetch 'em out! Hi!"

Wolf was all attention in an instant.

Looking up into his master's face with a low whine of inquiry as if to learn what he exactly meant him to do, and then putting down his nose with a significant sniff, as Ernest Wilton again drew his hand across Seth's track, he gave a loud yelp expressive of his intelligent comprehension of the duty that lay before him; bounding on in advance through the thick shrubbery, and going at such a pace that Mr Rawlings and Jasper had hard work to do to keep up with Ernest, who followed close behind the dog at a run almost.

"Steady, boy, steady!" said Ernest Wilton in a low tone, every now and then, as Wolf would turn back his head to see whether his master was near him or no, and then the sagacious animal would give an eager bark in answer, as if to say--

"I'm going on all right, old man. Don't be alarmed, I'm making no mistake about the scent."

Presently the trail diverged from underneath the timber and brushwood by the river-bank, and struck off at an angle into the open prairie, as if Seth had got tired of fighting his way amongst the overhanging branches and projecting trunks of the pine-trees.

From this point the footprints gradually led up to a little plateau above the valley through which the streamlet ran; and, arrived at the top of this, Wolf gave vent to a louder and more triumphant bark than previously, and halted in his tracks, as if waiting for Ernest to join him before proceeding any further.

The young engineer was by the dog's side in a moment, and one rapid glance round enabled him to see that the prairie extended beyond the plateau in a vast plain as far as the eye could reach, being bounded on the extreme verge of the horizon by a low range of hills or wooded heights, most probably marking, he thought, the southward course of the great Missouri river, although, as he reflected the moment after, they were much too far to the westward for that.

His attention, however, was not much given to the scenery and the picture which the spreading vast plain presented. A figure in the foreground, some little distance from the higher level on which he was standing, was gesticulating frantically towards him, and Seth's voice assured him of his identity, if he had any lingering doubt on the subject, by shouting out as soon as he had come into sight across the sky line--

"Hyar, ahoy, man! Hurry up thaar an' help a feller, can't you?"

"Here he is!" shouted out Ernest back to Mr Rawlings and Jasper, who were a few yards behind him, and, without waiting for them to come up, he hastened down the slightly shelving ground towards where the ex-mate seemed to be in some predicament, as he did not stand up, but was half-sitting, half-lying on the ground, resting his head on one arm as he waved the other to the young engineer.

"Hullo! what's the matter?" asked Ernest, calling out before he reached him.

"Injuns--been wounded," said Seth, in his usual curt, laconic way.

"Gracious me!" exclaimed Ernest, quite taken aback by the announcement. "Indians! And where is Sailor Bill?"

"The durned cusses have carried him off!" said Seth with a sob. "I'd a follered and got him back," added the ex-mate to Mr Rawlings, who now came up, with Jasper at his heels--the negro almost turning white with terror at the very name of the Indians being mentioned, and shaking in his shoes,--"I'd a follered an' got him back, yes sir! But them durned cusses have sent an arrowhead through my karkuss, and well-nigh broken my fut as well!"

STORY ONE, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

ON THE TRAIL.

"Where are you wounded?" asked Mr Rawlings, bending over Seth, who seemed to suffer considerable pain, although he endeavoured stoically to suppress all expression of it.

"In my side, haar," replied the other, pointing to where the feathered end of an arrow could be seen protruding from his shirt; "and if yer cut off the tail of the cussed thing, I reckon you ken pull it slick through, as the head's comed out ahint me. But it's only a flesh wound, and ain't up to much, for it didn't touch my ribs."

"Well," said Mr Rawlings, "you're a bit of a doctor, Seth, and ought to know if anybody does."

"Yes, it's only a scratch, I'm sartain, or I would ha' felt it more. My fut's the wussest of the two. But, lor' sakes!" added Seth, trying to get on his legs, and quivering with excitement, although the attempt was futile, and he had to sink back again into his half-sitting, half-kneeling posture with a groan--"don't you stop here a consulting about me, Rawlings, when that poor boy's life's in peril. You and Wilton had best skate off at once and foller up them redskins as has Sailor Bill. I ken bide waal enuf till you gits back again, old man, along with Jasper, who can do all I wants."

"We won't neglect the boy," said Mr Rawlings, struck with Seth's unselfishness in ignoring his own wounded condition under the consciousness of his protege's danger, "but we must think of you all the same first." And kneeling down by the injured man's side, he proceeded, with Ernest Wilton's assistance, to cut away Seth's shirt, and then the end of the arrow, holding it firmly the while so that it should not wriggle about, and hurt him more than they could help, after which the barbed head was drawn out of the wound--which was just between the third and fourth ribs, and not very serious, as the ex-mate had thought-- stanching the blood, and binding up the place with a silk handkerchief, which the young engineer had taken from round his neck for the purpose.

Mr Rawlings was immensely relieved to find that Seth was not so dangerously hit as he had at first supposed. When he saw the arrow sticking out of his side, he thought it was all up with his poor comrade; so now that the case appeared more hopeful, he was better able to consider what course should be adopted for Sailor Bill's rescue.

After a moment's deliberation, during which Seth gazed at him with a look of piteous entreaty on his face, but did not interrupt him with a word, guessing what was passing through his mind, Mr Rawlings' line of action was decided on.

"Here, Jasper," said he to the negro steward.

"Iss, massa."

"You must run back to the camp as hard as you can, and tell Noah Webster to pick out five or six of the men who can use their rifles well, and come back here with them and Moose--he wouldn't forget to bring him--to pursue the Indians. You must also bring a team of mules with the small waggon with you, the same as I told you about just now, although I did not then think to what a sad use we should put it, to take home Mr Seth in; and look sharp now--why, what's the matter?"

Jasper had started up to go at Mr Rawlings' first words; but when that gentleman spoke about the Indians while giving his directions, his alacrity and courage seemed to disappear together in company, as, instead of rushing off, as Mr Rawlings supposed, almost before he could finish speaking, there he stood, twirling his battered straw-hat about in his fingers, and looking the picture of cowardly irresolution.

"What, massa?" he tremblingly said, in answer to Mr Rawlings' interrogation, his teeth chattering with fear, and his countenance wearing a most hang-dog expression. "Me go back 'lone cross de prairee, all dat way to camp? Suppose the Injuns scalp pore niggah same as massa Seth! Golly, Massa Rawlins, um can't do it. I'se afeared!"

"You durned skunk!" exclaimed Seth, his indignation heightened probably by the pain of his wounds. "You jest make tracks at once, as Mister Rawlings says, or else I'll--" and he shook his fist expressively to complete the sentence.

"Perhaps I had better go," said Ernest Wilton at this juncture. "Jasper seems to be so frightened that he might lose his way; and, at all events, he would probably have forgotten half your instructions when he got to the creek, and give only a garbled account of what has happened. I think I would make the best messenger, unless you would prefer me to remain with you in case the Indians should return in force before we get help."

"Go by all means," answered Mr Rawlings. "I needn't tell you to hurry, my boy, you know the necessity of that, on every account! Jasper shall stop here and help defend us in case the savages assail us before you get back;" and Mr Rawlings could not help smiling as he spoke, in spite of their perilous position, at the comical idea of the cowardly Jasper acting as a protector.

"Bress us and sabe us, Massa Rawlings!" ejaculated the negro in mortal terror, about which there was no pretence or affectation. "Don't say dat, don't now! mebbe it come out for true! I'se rader go 'th Mass' Willerton, an' bring back the waggin for Mass' Seth, iss, sah."

"No you won't," said Mr Rawlings. "You hesitated to go when I told you, and now you shall stop here whether you like it or not!" emphasising his words by laying his hand on the darkey's shoulder, in such an impressive manner that he could not but submit to the command. But long before the question of Jasper's staying behind or going off with the young engineer was settled, Ernest had started off on the back track towards Minturne Creek at a brisk run, and was shortly out of sight behind the top of the plateau they had just descended from.

Prior to leaving, however, Ernest considerately ordered Wolf to remain in his place, as he would be of much service in the event of an Indian attack, telling the sagacious animal to lie at Seth's feet, with a "Hi, watch there; old man!" an order which the dog at once obeyed, while his master was off and away in an instant.

"Well, Seth," said Mr Rawlings, when the young engineer had disappeared from their gaze, "you haven't yet told me how this catastrophe occurred? But let me see your foot now, and I can examine it, and see what I can do to that while you are telling me all about it." And Mr Rawlings proceeded to cut away a portion of Seth's boot with his clasp knife--the same as he had had to do to his shirt before extracting the arrow, as it caused the poor fellow too much pain to pull it off--while the other went on with his yarn.

"Thaar ain't much to tell," began Seth. "I an' Sailor Bill beat up the bush alongside that ther stream, arter partin' with you, and then, when we seed nothin' thaar, made tracks for this yere paraira, as I diskivered, when I got to the top o' that risin' ground yonder, some elk a feedin' down hyar. There was a herd of seven of 'em or more, an' soon as I gets near enuf I lets drive at 'em; and just then, hullabaloo! I heart a screech like somethin' awful, an' a Injun starts up, just like a deer a walkin' on his hind legs."

"That's an artful dodge they have of putting on the skin of some animal, and approaching unsuspiciously within shooting range without alarming their game."

"Waal, this hyar Injun," continued Seth, without noticing Mr Rawlings' explanatory interruption, "rushed on to me like a mad bull in fly time, and seein' as how he meant bizness; I drawed the trigger again, but missed him, and he flung his tommyhawk, which cotched my fut, and brought me to the ground as slick as greased lightnin', you bet!"

"And gave you a bad wound, too," said Mr Rawlings, who by this time had managed to take off Seth's boot and disclose the extent of the injury, a pretty deep cut right across the instep, which would probably lame the ex-mate for life, as far as he could judge.

"Waal, it do hurt some," said Seth, when Mr Rawlings proceeded to bandage up the foot in the same way as he had done the poor fellow's side previously. "But I dersay I'll git over it soon, gineral. Ef I seed Sailor Bill agin I wouldn't care a cent about it, I guess!"

"How was it that they carried him off, and you escaped alive? I can't think how they let you off when you were once down and at their mercy?"

"Oh, I made a pretty good fit of it, I reckon, with the butt-end of my rifle, and giv' both them red devils somethin' to remember Seth Allport by!--For there was two on 'em at me, as soon as Sailor Bill rushed in atween me an' the fust Injun."

"Did the boy really help you?" said Mr Rawlings in some surprise; for, as has been previously related, Sailor Bill had never exhibited any trace of emotional feeling from the time of his being picked up at sea, save on that memorable occasion immediately afterwards, when, it may be remembered, he rushed out of the cabin when the ship was taken aback.

"He did so," answered Seth, "an' the curiosest part of it wer he looked jest the same frightened like as when he saved me aboard the _Susan Jane_, with his har all on end--jes so."

"It's very extraordinary," said Mr Rawlings; "and then they carried him off?"

"Waal, I was making a good fit of it as I told you, an' when Sailor Bill rushes to help me a second Injun started up and collars him; and then I heard that air blessed dawg bark, and I knowed what it wer, an' so did the Injuns too; for as I shouted out to let yer know whar we wer, they made tracks with pore Bill, lugging him off atween them over thaar," said Seth, pointing eastwards, where, however, nothing could now be seen. "And that's all you know about it?" said Mr Rawlings.

"Jes so," replied Seth.

At the same moment the negro Jasper, who had been gazing fixedly in the direction in which Ernest Wilton had gone for aid, uttered an exclamation of frenzied delight, and began to caper about.

"Golly, Massa Rawlings," cried he, "dere dey is! dere dey is!"

The negro was right. As he spoke Mr Rawlings and Seth could see a body of men advancing over the crest of the plateau, accompanied by a waggon drawn by a pair of mules. The young engineer had accomplished his mission well. Instead of publishing his news aloud, and thereby creating a commotion amongst the miners who would have all wished to rush off _en masse_ to the assistance of Mr Rawlings and Seth Allport, both much liked by all, and the rescue of Sailor Bill, whom the men had got also attached to in the same way as the crew of the _Susan Jane_, Ernest drew Noah Webster on one side, and briefly told him what had occurred and what Mr Rawlings had ordered to be done.

Noah was equally prompt and discreet.

Mustering one of the gangs, who had completed their shift in sinking the new shaft and had had a rest, he told them to get their rifles quietly and accompany him to the prairie, when he mentioned casually, in a way they appeared to understand, the boss and manager had come across some "red game" and wanted their help.

At the same time the backwoodsman ordered Josh, who was nothing loth to have the chance of abandoning his caboose duties for a while, to have a couple of mules hitched to the waggon; while he beckoned Moose, the half-breed, who apparently suspected something was in the wind, to come towards him, when the two conferred, while the miners and Josh were getting ready.

The whole thing, indeed, was so well managed, that within ten minutes of Ernest Wilton's arrival in camp, the rescuing party had started for the spot where Mr Rawlings and Seth and the terror-stricken Jasper were awaiting their approach: a band of strong, well-armed, resolute men, consisting, besides the young engineer himself and Noah Webster, of Moose the half-breed, Black Harry--one of the former crew of the _Susan Jane_, a muscular giant who would have been a match for three Indians in himself--and five of the miners, old "Californian stagers," used to frontier life and rough and tumble fighting--in addition to Josh, of course, who drove the mule waggon.

As soon as the scene of the fray was reached, Seth was lifted carefully into the waggon and sent back to Minturne Creek, under the care of Jasper--who took the place of Josh as teamster, that darkey displaying considerably more pluck than the former, and evincing as much eagerness to encounter the Indians as Jasper did to avoid them--while the rescuing party followed on the trail of Sailor Bill's abductors.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

RISING CLOUD.

"Silenza!" said the half-breed warningly, hearing Black Harry talking rather loudly and threatening what he would do in case a hair of the poor boy was injured,--"Silenza! Senors must go soft, or Sioux hear mens speak!"

This happened just as they started, and from that moment not a word was further spoken amongst the party, the men preserving a solemn silence and marching one after the other in single file, Moose and Noah Webster leading the way, and tracking the course of the Indians like sleuth-hounds, seeing traces of the passage of those of whom they were in pursuit in places where, as in the rocky bottom of a dry ravine they presently came across, no footprints were perceptible like as they were when the trail led through the prairie-grass, in a manner most unaccountable both to Mr Rawlings and the young engineer.

On and on, mile after mile, went the gallant little band, at one time treading downward towards some bottom or valley, at another their route lying upwards along some ascending plateau, until the afternoon grew dusky and night approached, when they had travelled over a considerable distance of ground from their starting-point.

The prairie still stretched before them, the fringe of trees on the horizon which Ernest Wilton had perceived some hours before still far off, but much nearer than they were then, although, as he saw now, they certainly could not indicate the banks of the Missouri, as he had then thought; while between this distant bank of timber, that stood out here under the shades of evening more strongly against the sky line, were sundry little timbered islands as it were amidst the vast ocean of spreading plain on which they were.

As it got darker, the half-breed, who was unacquainted with Wolf's sagacity, that equalled his own in following a trail, made them understand that they must give up the pursuit until the morning light, or moon, should it not be obscured, enabled the trail to be deciphered; but Wolf's master showing him what to do, and a sort of leash being attached to the dog so that he should not go too fast on the scent and be lost sight of in the gathering gloom, the expedition started on again, after a brief halt, as untiringly as ever.

"Ugh!" ejaculated Moose, when they had continued their quest through the darkness with Wolf's aid for about an hour, more or less--"Hist! Light yonder! Stay here, I go see!" and he disappeared from amongst them, while the others halted on the spot, from whence they could faintly perceive the glimmer of firelight shining amidst trees in front of them: so they were evidently near one of those little wooded islands they had observed in the distance.

After an absence which seemed unconscionably long to those who remained behind, the half-breed returned, and from what he said Mr Rawlings divided the band into two portions, one of which he ordered to follow Moose, whose object was to take the Indians in the rear, while the main body attacked them in front, thus causing them to surrender probably at the display of their overwhelming numbers, the two parties acting together by a concerted signal, without any recourse to their weapons, which would most likely endanger the life of poor Sailor Bill whom they had come to save.

All proceeded satisfactorily up to a certain point.

The half of the band that accompanied Moose stole forward, skirting round the trees so as to get the Indians in a line between themselves and Mr Rawlings' party; and presently the solitary note of the melancholy whip-poor-will was heard from amidst the trees, to warn the others that Moose and his companions were in position, and they were to close in nearer to the Indian camp before the half-breed should give the second intimation that it was time for the final rush.

Black Harry's indiscretion, however, at this juncture spoilt Moose's plan of surprising the Indians and effecting their object without bloodshed. As they approached nearer the light that glimmered from amid the trees, they could see that three Indians were seated round it, while close adjoining them was poor Sailor Bill lashed tightly to a tree, like a poor lamb that was to be slaughtered in some butcher's shop.

The sight was too much for the unthinking but gallant seaman, so, despite Mr Rawlings' strict injunctions to the contrary, he levelled his rifle and fired point-blank into the group of Indians huddled over the fire.

The savages started up with a yell of alarm; and, seizing their arms hurriedly, one of them darted towards the motionless figure of Sailor Bill with an uplifted hatchet in his hand.

At that moment Mr Rawlings, seeing the imminent jeopardy of the boy, fired, and the Indian's arm fell as if broken by the bullet, the hatchet dropping from his hand; in another second, however, the savage picked up the weapon again and would have brained Sailor Bill, being in the act of hurling it at him with a malignant aim, when Wolf, who had stolen forward at the first outburst, dashed at the Indian's throat with a low growl of vengeance, and brought him to the ground.

"Don't kill them!" shouted Mr Rawlings, in a voice that made itself heard above the melee; and after a brief struggle, the two remaining Indians were secured and firmly bound, although it took all Black Harry's strength to overcome the one he grappled, who turned out to be the chief of the party, while the one Wolf had brought down suffered terribly from the grip of the dog on his throat.

After all had cooled down from the contest, which had lasted some little time, Mr Rawlings directed Moose to ask the Indian chief--who, the half-breed said, was a leading warrior of the Sioux tribe, rejoicing in the sounding title of "Rising Cloud,"--why he had attacked an innocent settler and miner like Seth Allport, and stolen away the boy that was with him?

The Indian, however, did not seem to require the services of an interpreter, for he answered Mr Rawlings as if he thoroughly comprehended the gist of the question Moose was deputed to ask him.