CHAPTER X

ATTACKED BY HOSTILE BLACKFEET

"CHEER up, Roger!" said Dick, making an effort to look as though he himself had no fear of disaster. "I've often heard my father say it is foolish to cross a bridge before you reach it. The first thing for us to do is to let these poor fellows in the trap know we are here."

When there was a prospect for action Roger could rouse himself wonderfully.

"And we must get them out of that deep hole by hook or by crook, Dick!" he exclaimed.

The two pushed forward until they could look down toward the place where they had discovered the forlorn figures of the prisoners.

"Hello! Hardy--Mordaunt!" called Dick, just loud enough to make his voice carry to the men. He did not know what danger might be near, and on this account believed it the part of wisdom to be careful.

Immediately the pair below looked up. When they discovered the boys they manifested the greatest delight, even to shaking hands with each other. Evidently they had been close to the point of despair.

"We're going to get you out of that hole first of all!" called Dick, "and then you can tell us what happened."

"Where is Jasper Williams?" demanded Roger, unable to restrain his impatience longer.

"We do not know," came the discouraging answer.

"Then he isn't down there with you?" pursued Roger.

"No. The last we saw of Jasper he was still alive, although hotly pursued."

Naturally these last words excited Roger's curiosity more than ever. He could easily guess that the party must have met with a stirring adventure of some sort, and if Williams had fled it must have been hostile Indians who pursued him. But Dick would not hear of any further delay in starting work.

"Come, Roger, I shall need your assistance," he told the other. "Bottle up your curiosity until we can get those poor fellows up out of the pit. They seem to be injured more or less, for Hardy has a bandage around his arm that looks bloody."

Roger was only too willing to render what aid he could, though the fact struck him that they were not likely to find it plain sailing.

"If they couldn't climb up out of that hole on account of the smooth face of the rock, how shall we go down to help them, Dick?" he demanded.

"That would be foolish," was the reply. "We must plan to draw them up here."

"But, Dick, where is the rope to come from? We brought nothing of the sort from the camp?"

"Then we must find a substitute. Look back at some of our experiences, and tell me if we have not done that more than once when in the forest?"

"Why, yes, a wild grape-vine can often be made to serve the purpose of a rope, because it is tough and long and pliable. But where can we get such a thing now?"

"As it happens, I noticed some vines growing not far back, and I am leading you to the place now. Look over yonder at that little swale, where the trees grow so densely; there are vines hanging from the branches, for I saw them swaying in the breeze."

"Yes, I do believe you are right," admitted Roger, who possessed splendid eyesight. "I only hope we find one long enough."

"Oh! as to that," responded Dick, calmly, "we could easily splice a pair of them. There's nearly always a way to do things if only you make up your mind to do them."

They soon arrived at the patch of swampy ground where the undergrowth grew so densely. It was an ideal place for wild grape-vines, and small wonder that they grew to such a length, some twisting in spirals around the trunks of the trees, others hanging from limbs that were fully twenty feet overhead.

Roger gave expression to his satisfaction the minute he set eyes on this network of vines.

"No trouble getting what we want here, I should say, Dick. Look at that monster vine; though this one seems better fitted for our purposes, because it is like a stout rope, if only it proves tough enough to hold a weight."

"No trouble about that, I'm thinking," said Dick. "You could hang half a ton on that vine and it would hold. You are a better climber than I ever claimed to be, so get up the tree and cut it loose above."

Nothing suited Roger better than this. Laying his gun down, together with his powder-horn, which might be in the way, he started up the tree indicated. Arriving at the limb to which the vine they had selected seemed to be fastened he first examined it carefully, and then with his knife soon cut it free.

"Take care while I drop it, Dick!" he called, and shortly afterwards descended to the ground.

The vine was quickly trimmed so as to free it from useless growth, and, dragging it after them, the lads once more went to the brink of the pit that had proved a trap for the members of the exploring party.

When this substitute for a rope was lowered it was found to be quite long enough for their purpose. One of the men immediately started to climb, and what before had seemed an insurmountable task now became easy.

Ten minutes later both had been rescued from their predicament. They were shivering from exposure and fright, and the first thing the boys did was to make a small fire in a depression amidst the rocks, over which some water was heated, and a pannikin of tea brewed.

When the men had eaten something, and washed it down with liberal portions of the hot tea, Roger could hold back no longer. He wanted to learn what had happened, and how they had become separated from Jasper Williams.

The men had evidently been through a rough experience, and seemed to have lost all inclination to proceed any further into the unknown country of mysteries. Indeed, from certain words that they had dropped, it was plain nothing could induce them to return. They meant to head directly toward the camp near the Mandan village.

This being the case, Dick was anxious to learn all he could before the separation came about, and so he did not attempt to chide Roger on account of the other's impatience when he burst out with:

"Now please tell us what it was all about, and who pursued Jasper Williams at the time you saw him last?"

Hardy seemed to be the best talker, for it was he who answered.

"The Indians came down on us when we were not expecting an attack," he explained, looking somewhat humiliated, for a frontiersman was apt to feel a blush of shame when compelled to admit that for once his vigilance had relaxed.

"Were you in camp at the time?" asked Roger.

"Yes, close to the river," Hardy continued. "We had been seeing some wonderful things, and Jasper seemed to believe there were others even more amazing beyond. Then, like a bolt out of the clear sky, they dropped down on us. Some sprang from the bushes, while others appeared on the river in canoes made from dugout logs."

He drew a long breath, as though the recollection of that sudden attack would give him a bad feeling for a long time to come.

"But you must have snatched up your guns and fought them?" pursued Roger, who could not picture Jasper Williams doing anything less, since he had the reputation of being an unusually valiant borderman.

"That was what we did," replied Hardy. "After shooting and wounding some of our enemies we clubbed our guns and strove to beat our way clear of the howling pack. In some fashion Jasper became separated from us. We managed to burst through the Indians, and fled for the thickest of the neighboring woods. Somehow we did not seem to be pursued, and, wondering at that, I looked over my shoulder, hearing the yells of the savages growing fainter."

"Yes, and what did you see?" Roger demanded.

"Jasper had managed to leap into one of their canoes, and was paddling like mad up the rough water of the Yellowstone, with the other boats in hot pursuit. They vanished from our sight around a bend in the stream, but for a long time we could hear the sound of distant yells when the wind turned that way."

"You do not know certainly, then, that Jasper was captured or killed?" Dick asked.

"We cannot say," replied Hardy. "All we thought about then was to get away from that region, and start back to the camp. We have seen enough of this wild country to satisfy us. By accident we managed in the darkness of the night to fall into that hole, and we have been held prisoners there ever since, suffering all the tortures of cold, hunger and despair. When we heard you call out it seemed to us the finest sound we had ever listened to."

The men had finished their meal by now, and seemed anxious to make a start over the back trail. Dick did not attempt to influence them to change their decision, for he knew it would be futile. As they had both lost their powder-horns in the fight, and their long-barreled guns were useless without ammunition, he managed to spare a small amount of the precious stuff, enough to give them several charges apiece.

"You can shoot game, and live in that way until you reach camp," he told them as he watched both men eagerly load their guns. "But what of these Indians who attacked your party--they were not of the Sioux or the Mandan tribes, I take it?"

"No--Blackfeet, and hard fighters," the man replied. "I do not believe they would have allowed us to escape, only that they seemed most anxious to get Jasper Williams, for all of them pursued him, some in boats and the rest on land."

This struck Dick as peculiar. Why should Jasper Williams count any more with the hostile Blackfeet than the other two explorers? His hair would make a no better looking scalp than theirs!

Dick was still pondering over this as he shook the two men by the hand and expressed the hope that they would meet with no further troubles until they gained the camp and gave his message to Captain Lewis.

"Have you arrived at any conclusion, Hardy," he observed, "as to why the Indians should want to capture Jasper Williams so badly that they would neglect you two, and even let you escape?"

"We talked that over, Mordaunt and myself, while we were in the pit," came the answer, "and both of us decided that the men who were with the Blackfeet must have hated our companion, and had promised a reward to the redskins if he was captured. That only would explain the mystery, we thought."

"Why, were there white men with the Indians?" cried Dick, beginning to see a gleam of light. "Were they English, or frontiersmen, or French?"

"They must have been French, because we heard them calling out, and it was in that language. They seemed wild with anger because Jasper had not fallen into their hands. In the boats they kept shouting to the paddlers, and urging them to greater exertion. Yes, the Frenchmen must hate our companion, and I fear he will never live to come back to us again."

As the two men walked away, heading toward the northeast, Dick and Roger exchanged significant looks, for they now knew the worst.