CHAPTER XXIX

NEARING THE SALTY SEA

FORTUNATELY the others were close at hand when this catastrophe happened. Dick, of course, plied his paddle with the utmost vigor, but, in spite of his endeavors, their canoe was dragged perilously close to the verge of the fall, and, if left to themselves, the boys would have had a serious time of it.

The nearest boat chanced to contain Jasper Williams and another. Williams had always been known as a quick-witted man when trouble came suddenly from a clear sky.

Loud cries arose. Then this boat was seen speeding straight toward the one that had been crippled by the breaking of the paddle.

"Here, take hold of this rope!" Jasper Williams was heard calling, and Roger, who had been watching the approach of the other canoe in a sort of dumb anxiety, not knowing how their arrival would help, managed to secure the line that came flying through the air.

He saw what the trapper had in mind. Dick, too, bent all his energies to his own paddle, while the blades in the other canoe flashed fast and furiously as the two paddlers bent their broad backs to the task.

The current was loath to give up its expected prey, and it fought furiously before admitting defeat; but brain triumphed in the end. One thing that helped materially was the fact that with every yard they gained in the direction of the bank the grip of the current grew less severe.

In the end they reached land, much to the relief of both boys. Roger looked a little white under the eyes, although he stoutly protested that he had not been much alarmed.

When later on they had a chance to see from what they had escaped through the happy circumstance of Jasper Williams' possession of the rope, the boys were very grateful things had turned out as they did. Dick realized that there was not much hope for any one unfortunate enough to be swept over those falls, and carried through the rapids, where cruel rocks waited on every hand to bruise the victim.

The party went into camp on the spot, and expected to be lulled to sleep that night by the incessant roar as the water took the plunge. Roger meant to busy himself below the falls as soon as he could get there, armed with his spear, of which he had by this time become very proud.

They soon learned that this spot was a favorite fishing place for the Indians. Indeed, there did not seem to be a minute of the day that one or more dusky sons of the wilderness could not be seen prowling around, armed with spears with which they would adroitly stab any fish that came within reach. (Note 9.)

The salmon on reaching a waterfall exhibits a wonderful agility in lofty leaping, in the endeavor to gain the upper reaches of the stream. This, of course, is more frequent in the spring when the fish wish to reach their spawning beds far up in the rivers. Still, the boys saw many fish make the leap while they were at the falls, some reaching projecting ledges, and resting for another frantic attempt; others falling back, doubtless to make a more successful effort later.

These Indians the boys found were of a different tribe from any they had thus far encountered, and they soon decided they must belong to the fighting tribe of whom they had heard so many contradictory accounts, the Flat Heads.

Very naturally, since they had probably never before seen a white man, the Indians displayed considerable curiosity. They were at first inclined to flee, showing all the signs of alarm and enmity; but Captain Lewis made friendly signs, and in the end succeeded in soothing their fears.

"I don't like their looks, though," Roger said to Dick, as they watched several of the Flat Head braves accepting little trinkets, such as colored beads and minute mirrors, which had been carried along for the purpose of trading with the natives.

"I agree with you there," admitted Dick. "They have a different appearance from the friendly Nez Perces, the Mandans, or any other tribe we have met so far."

"I believe they must be more treacherous than the others," continued Roger, uneasily. "You know we have heard not a single good word about them from any source."

"Well, 'the proof of the pudding is in the eating of it,' as we've heard many the time at home, Roger; and we shouldn't judge people wholly by their looks. Captain Lewis seems to be willing to trust them. If any person can make friends with these Flat Heads, he will."

"Unless they've already determined to hate, and try to exterminate us," grumbled the other, of course referring to the underhand measures which they believed Lascelles and his companion meant to put into practice.

It was not long before Roger found a good use for his spear. He watched how the red fishermen plied their weapons and copied their method. Although he could hardly expect to be an expert in the beginning the boy soon learned to handle his new tool with considerable skill; and Dick commended his work when he saw him strike a splendid silvery fish that had shown itself near the surface.

It was not a very difficult task getting the canoes around the portage, or carry. There was a regular path which doubtless had been worn by the moccasined feet of countless red Indians for ages past, since this spot must always have been a favorite one for laying in stores of fish food.

The second night was passed some distance below the falls, though their musical roar could still be plainly heard. Always eager to learn facts in connection with what lay ahead, Captain Lewis questioned some of the Indians once more with regard to how many days journey they still had to expect before arriving at the ocean.

Thanks to his mastery of the sign language, the commander was able to discover what he sought; and it was pleasing intelligence that he communicated to the rest of the company that same night.

November was at hand, and before the month had gone far they should arrive at the termination of their great adventure, with the ocean stretching before them.

From the present time they could count on an easy voyage, unless something entirely unexpected cropped up to dismay them. The current of the Columbia was swift, and could be counted on to carry them along without a paddle being dipped, if they felt like avoiding the labor.

Already were the men beginning to count on the glorious experience they expected to have while the winter lasted, hunting and fishing as the weather permitted, and with the wonderful sea to gaze upon. It was planned to go into winter quarters as soon as they arrived at their destination. This would permit of their gathering a great store of food, after the Indian custom.

Only one fly remained in the ointment of the boys. They could not forget that, as long as the revengeful Frenchman, François Lascelles, hovered about that part of the country, they could never feel safe. No matter if he were unseen, they knew him well enough to believe that he would be plotting in some underhand way to injure them, as he had done so many times in the past.

"We will never know a minute's peace as long as that man is alive," said Roger, when the subject came up to cast a shadow on their happiness.

The weather did not improve as they descended the Columbia. Rain fell frequently, and twice they saw where serious landslides had occurred. It made them more careful as to where they camped when night came, for, should they be so unfortunate as to be caught in one of these slips, the result was apt to be exceedingly serious.

They saw Indians daily. Sometimes these were ashore, and again they met them in canoes made of hide, or, it might be, dugouts formed from logs. In most cases the natives avoided them, for the sight of white faces and beards filled them with wonder and fear. Some of them must have believed the explorers had come from one of the stars, and were people of another world, for never had they dreamed there could be any but copper-colored inhabitants on this sphere.

Nor were the adventurers always free from peril from this source. On several occasions an arrow had been known to hurtle into camp; and one of the men even received a flesh wound.

For a short time it was feared the shaft might have had a poisoned tip, and every expedient to neutralize the venom was immediately applied. As the man did not suffer any great disability on account of his injury, they finally concluded that the Flat Heads, at least, did not dip the heads of their war arrows in the poison of the rattlesnake, as some tribes were known to do. (Note 10.)

Captain Lewis did not like the menacing manner in which some of these Indians acted when on the bank of the river, while the little flotilla of canoes was passing.

"I feel certain there is some malign influence at work, behind the scenes," Dick heard him telling Captain Clark, after they had seen a manifestation of this ill humor one day, when several half-naked red skins brandished their spears toward them as the boats drifted past, at the same time uttering angry cries; "and, since we happen to know that Lascelles slipped past us down the river, there can be no doubt it is his work."

"A few days more and we shall be there, the captain says," announced Roger, as he made his way back a short distance up the river in company with his chum, they having noticed signs of game.

The boys had gone about half a mile from the camp, having caught sight of a feeding deer.

"We are getting close to the spot where we glimpsed that deer feeding on the green grass, so let us stop talking, and be on the watch," Dick suggested, thinking the animal might have moved from its place.

Three minutes afterwards Roger gave a low "hist."

"I can see him right now," he whispered, and, following the direction of the extended finger, Dick also caught sight of the dun-colored figure.

Really it must have been a very hungry deer. As a rule such an animal, when feeding, is so nervous and suspicious that every minute or so its tail will whisk, and the hunters know from this that the deer will immediately raise its head to take a look around. But although the boys as they advanced kept their eyes fastened closely on their intended quarry, they could not see even the slightest movement.

Roger had begged the privilege of having first shot, and, when they had crept as close as seemed wise, his gun-stock came up against his cheek, his eye ran along the sights, and then his finger pressed the hair trigger of the long-barreled rifle.

Strange to say, the deer never moved even then. Roger was more than amazed.

"Give him a shot, Dick!" he cried, "or he may get away from us yet, thanks to my poor aim!"

Dick was about to comply, when suddenly the deer toppled over. There was something decidedly suspicious in the way the animal collapsed, and Dick had a flash of intelligence sweep over him. He believed the deer was being used for a stalking animal, and had been dead all the while, its body propped up to deceive them. And even as this dreadful truth struck him, he heard loud Indian whoops ring out.