The Red River Half-Breed: A Tale of the Wild North-West

As remarked, Bill the Cherokee and Filditch had gone out scouting at daybreak. Ridge had given them particular instructions, and perhaps was thinking of them when he accomplished the enigmatical work described. It was presumably a signal message. The Yager was much too serious a man to lose his time in jokes. When he rejoined his men he said never a word on his doings, and no one questioned him; they do not question "the old man" of a party when out on the warpath with a variety of deaths at hand.

All the afternoon they marched on without anything notable happening except that a couple of bucks were killed, but shot with arrows, so that no noise was made.

About five p.m., a little after sunset, the band arrived where the halt for the night was decided.

It was on the edge of a rather wide clearing, as generally is the case, to prevent a surprise and attack under cover. Awaiting them, seated near a fire only just kindled, Filditch was puffing at a cigar.

The Cherokee Half-breed was not visible.

Old Jim put no questions concerning him, and did not even seem astonished at not seeing him.

A camp is not long being made by regular hunters. The two or three fires soon burnt up in that clear, smokeless, intensely hot way which is the despair of novices at camping. The supper being "put under the belts," everyone not on watch wrapped up in blankets, and went to sleep with feet to the fire.

At eleven o'clock Jim Ridge rose out of a reverie, went the rounds of the sentries, and finally dived into the underbrush, dropping at once so as to disappear promptly. As soon as he was well out of reach of the low firelight rays, he looked up at the sky and mountain tops to get his bearings, and then strode away, with wide opening of his long legs like one who knew thoroughly what he was about, and how the country was superficially formed.

His course was only an hour long.

Then he stopped at a rock overhanging a waterfall.

He felt that his weapons were in good condition before putting in each side of his mouth one index finger, with which he so changed the shape of that orifice that he was able to imitate to perfection the hooting of the big blue owl. That was a night bird likely to be about at that time.

Almost immediately a swish as of wings in the brambles responded. It was as if a bird had been deluded and rushed to see a mate. But no owl – merely a man emerged from the shadows scarcely twenty paces from the old mountaineer. The man came on with extraordinary confidence, keeping his gun only tolerably ready, and smoking a pipe with its cover off.

"Oh, these young fellows!" muttered the Yager, with a low laugh; "They won't learn nuthin', and it's no use talking to 'em, and, at the same time, this is a most promising one among 'em."

CHAPTER XXIV

THE YAGER'S "TREATY TALK" WITH OUR HERO

In a few minutes the two met, and cordially gripped hands.

"Well?" demanded Jim, curtly.

"An hour after you and your company marched by, so the Cherokee said, I met him. He was puzzling out something of a Chinese puzzle which you left for his wits. He told me that I should meet you here, and the time."

"Jes' so. Why didn't he come along?"

"Really, I do not know, Mr. Ridge," answered Ranald, smiling, for it was our amateur woodman; "I will add, if you will allow it, that you probably know better than I do. All he said was that you had given him something to do that would oblige him to turn back."

"That's so, too. I was afeard he would not understand my 'collar of wampum,' my forest letter," said Ridge.

"Oh, don't you cherish any alarm on that head. It struck me that Williams read your forest letter, as you style it, as easily as I should a page in a book – with this advantage, that he could do it in the dark with his fingers if need be. You are wonderful with your devices! But here I am; deal with me as you see fit."

"I want to hear you first," said Ridge. "We are quite alone here. You have seen the young lady, towards whom I think you feel tenderly, and have brushed up against Captain Kidd, the old pirate! Say your say about them."

The young Englishman reflected a while, and not till then did he reply, in a voice still unsteady with emotion, "If I were facing any other man than one whom I esteem as the King of the Wilderness; if I supposed you had any other sentiments in your heart than those which all, white, red and yellow, acknowledge to be worthy, I should speak out thus – I am a rich man in England, and will give you half my property for your inestimable help to free that poor young lady."

He fixed an anxious gaze on the hunter.

"Well, I ain't that style of man," said the latter; "and seeing you are facing me, what do you say?"

"To you, Jim Ridge," went on the young lover, with tears in his eyes, "I have to say this – I am really in anguish, and my heart is aching with apprehension. Those women surrounded by merciless reprobates – 'tis a horrible situation. Counting that lad Leon the Drudge as a man, he and the Carcajieu and myself are a mere mouthful among the ogres. Except yourself and friends and the kernel of Sir Archie's ill-fated expedition, these wilds seem to swarm with dangers, not the least of which are human. To enable me to help those ladies, I will pledge you my life if I can only lay it down to save you and those dear to you some day. I am a newcomer here, Mr. Ridge, but I have already perceived that all bow to your will. Your incontestable superiority is owned by your enemies themselves."

"Well, Mr. Dearborn, I am inclined to believe we shall weld up the thing. Don't call it a bargain, that's all. But let us step away from here lively. It is no place for a treaty talk. In a short time, by that distant thunder, which is rolling snow and water, there will be a rise here, and we may be drowned, ay and frozen."

Ranald followed the veteran Westerner without a word. This reading signs of natural disturbances from afar impressed him powerfully. His guide went round the worn boulder, ascended some steps rudely shaped by time in the granite, and after gliding in at a cleft hardly at first allowing them to squeeze through, reached a deep cave not perceptible from without.

"One of my favourite nooks," observed Jim, taking matches from a dry corner, with which he ignited an elk fat candle, and then kindling a fire of ready piled wood behind a rocky mantle. "Nobody knows it except Bill Williams and me. You are the first outsider let in. We are quite secure. Neither inquisitive eyes nor greedy ears are open on us here; nothing but the dead are at hand," stamping lightly on a gentle eminence. "They, at any rate, keep a still tongue. Who are they? Men like myself, who show the settler the way to the best sites for towns where thousands of happy children will peacefully learn and play and grow up without even hearing our names. Such is the explorer's fate. But the flame mounts brightly – away with black thoughts. To our concerns; speak out straight and clear. It is needful that I should know your story completely, that I may see how you intend acting by that young lady for whom you own a tenderness. Then, here's my hand."

"I have nothing to keep back, sir. I thank God that even my youthful follies are not such as man blames harshly. My full title is Sir Ranald Dearborn Ivyson, a baronet of Teviotdale. My family, my position in the country and monetarily, are more than merely good. I was amusing myself with travel without any particular aim, when I met Miss Maclan at a garrison ball in Canada, and fell in love with her – at least, I thought the passion not shallow, but its full depth was immeasurable till I found her in danger."

"That's so, boy – it's like the freeze – go sudden to a fire, and mark how it smarts."

"There's not a doubt of it now. When your friend, Williams, directed her to give herself up to Captain Kidd's men, I felt my love almost overthrow my reason, for, though that told me he was ordering the best course, my sentiment urged me to disobey, and throw my life away by desperately preventing her being touched by those scoundrels!"

"Bill is a wise man!" interpolated Ridge. "His father was a large dictionary – he's the pocket-size – but the same amount of larning, pretty nigh, in both. But go on, you must be back within Kidd's camp by sunup."

"I have no more to say. When we rescue that young lady, and I place her in civilisation once more, I shall give her time to let mere gratitude die out, and then offer myself. If she accepts, I shall be a happy man. If she rejects, I – I – well, either a soldier I'll be, or I'll come and join you in your roving career – a miserable, heartbroken man!"

"A desirable recruit!" said Jim, with his low laugh. "Wall, it 'pears you are bound to do the right thing. I believe you, and this is a more solemn engagement than you had before. We shall help you."

"Thanks!"

"How are you thriving with the Cap.?"

"How am I getting on with Kidd? I have succeeded in deceiving him."

"Ah, but for how long? He's a cute devil. At the least suspicion, he will pin you to a tree, or riddle you with a repeater!"

"I shall take care not to rouse his mistrust," answered Ranald, with a smile of confidence.

"Heaven help you – you are the circus boy, who, seeing the lion tamer go into the cage so easily every day, offers to perform the critters the first day he falls sick. However, youth will be boastful. In any case, rely on me. That American girl is the daughter of my brother's son. And another belief of mine is all out of the tie if that poor young lad is not her brother Lewis. This depends, perhaps, on finding out who their gaoler is – this Kidd, in reality. Soon the means of identifying the children will be at hand if the father's loving eyes are baffled. There are more friends and allies yet to be seen by you. An old friend of my nephew Filditch is due right here, and right now. His name is Don Gregorio, Peralta, Lewis's uncle. From him, through a trader, come the 'pointers' that have set me against Captain Kidd. I allow that, so far, he has thrown me out, but I take a heap of beating, and then I am not conquered. But he has even bigger enemies than this child. Into his very camp, travelling along with his crowd from the very jump-off, is one of his foes, sir. He must have been in communication with you first off. He has been signalling to us all over the mountain, from smoke and fires, and played with the axe on trees."

"You allude to the Carcajieu."

"Ay, the Wolverine. You can 'go to sleep in his blanket.' You must put full confidence in him, for, otherwise, he might upset your plans without intending it in performing his special duty."

"There's no fear about that. Joe and I have no secrets for one another."

"So much the slicker! Now, we are full forty strong. Before this gang reaches the Yellowstone Valley, we shall be nearly a hundred, for the trappers are rallying."

"We are certain to succeed!" exclaimed the Englishman, gleefully.

"Certainty is a brittle twig. But 'our cause it is just,' as the song says, and we are going to do our utmost. Our enemies are the more to be dreaded as 'gold or a grave' is a motto that pulls them far. They are not the first band, though about the biggest, that have started for the Wonderland. So far we have driven them back, or Nature's scared them; but that cannot be etarnal. It is not more than a couple of days that I found out that the leader of these banditti is the notorious Captain Kidd. He is far down in my book for being the brother of one Miguel Tadeo, a scoundrel who has dropped through somewhere, though the frontier is alive with inquiries after him. Kidd is a pestilence, but Don Miguel is the black plague itself! He is overflowing with spite against his brother man. If he is hanging around me, why, I haven't seen a trace yet, and that's bitter on an old trail hunter that's consulted by guides with a big reputation. So be prudent, young sir, for you are in the hornets' nest. Kidd will kill you straight, on the faintest doubt, without any challenge. Other hostiles abound, keep before you as a fact: the Indians, and those Canadian Half-breeds. Their chief, Dagard, is a queer mix of good white and bad Injin, and a crime no more burdens his conscience than the last drink he took. Add that all the stray pirates of the prairie, hoss thieves, gold diggers, robbers, and skulks ginerally will flock to Kidd the moment he has an advantage over us which promises him undisputed passage into the Enchanted Valley. You see the scales are pulled down agin us!"

"I even have an idee that there's a secret agreement between Kidd, which includes Don Miguel, and this Dagard. I met more'n once down in Montana, and even farther south, the Half-breed Margottet, now the lieutenant of these Red River Rovers. Thar's some big scheme hatching in the Nor'-West, for the Injins have knocked under to the railroad on the plains as Big Bad Medicine; but cherish hopes, among the Apaches away South and up here towards the Queen's country. Ever since the Sioux were driven over the border, the Half-breeds have been saucy. Wall, you are doubly, trebly warned, young sir, and must abide by the consequences."

"Do all I can, I cannot pierce Kidd's game. Something in his proceedings upsets my calculations. If he were not so notorious during such a long time in the West, I should imagine him – but that's all nonsense! Anyhow, sir, mind that forgetfulness, rashness, blindness – they'll ruin, no – well, worse than that, they'll destroy all those girls and women. There are young men who love as strongly as you, whose sweethearts are in that band; fathers who sorrow like my nephew, whose da'ters are there cooped up. But I am glad to know you, sir! We have had gilt-edged Englishmen out here that brought servants from London, things in the shape of men, but who my lorded them and your graced them, and disgraced themselves! – They thought money would buy every mortal thing even here! No, sir, I am offering you my life, and Cherokee Bill's, and a score more, but not for cash! You have a manly nature, that's enough; that kind comes among the same kind when they talk to the hunter and trapper with no double tongue. The old country is no decaying tree, sir, when thar's young shoots like you!"

The speaker had been so unusually eloquent, unlike his brief, measured sentences, that not till now could his hearer get in a word which he was eager to say.

"I wish to tell you, Ridge, that Joe, whom you praise so highly, while rather mysteriously, assured me that Kidd is living literally behind a mask, and that he has seen it laid aside."

"Do tell?" inquired the Old Man of the Mountain.

"He told me that last night, a little thanks to my having fixed on a capital site over a burrow for the captain's tent, he was able to get a good look at him after he had unsuspectedly laid aside his daily disguise."

"Wagh! This is worth hearing."

"He says that the real face belongs to a noted criminal called Hank, or Henry Brown, which in turn hides one Cornelio de Bustamente."

"Bustamente! Oh! We've heard of him; the great St. Louis Forger!" cried Ridge. "Oh, why is not Don Gregorio on the spot? However, patience, patience. But the time is over for our parting. Haste away. I shall not forget that Kidd is Bustamente. In two days we shall meet again. Trust to Joe, he's not to be tricked even by such hardened rogues."

"But you do not tell me where we meet?"

"There is a swamp and burnt wooded stretch called Winter Black, or the Winter Burning."

"I can remember that."

"Good luck! Thank Joe for the clue he gives me. I'll question the boys on the point. Hurry off to your camp, for you have a distance to go. In two days, same hour, at Winter Black. Good-bye, boys!"

The two shook hands and left the cavern, departing oppositely at the mouth.

The rest of the night passed tranquilly. An hour before the false dawn an owl was heard lamentably hooting as if its night hunt had failed, and it feared it must go supperless to its couch. But Jim Ridge stood up, and answered in the same long-drawn, pitiful tones.

Those of the watch must have been more surprised than edified by the singular dialogue that went on between Old Ridge and his unseen interlocutor. All the wild beasts and birds of the field, forest, and mountain seemed engaged in a concert. The calls and defiant cries of various birds seemed to awaken bears and wild cats, and the coyotes wailed to the sharply yelping prairie dogs. The sounds were so arbitrarily arranged, that a conjurer would be puzzled to distinguish the sense of a single sentence. But the Yager understood it perfectly, of course, and what is more, seemed quite satisfied with the information so strangely conveyed to him. When it was over, he went and awoke an old beaver trapper to take his relief on guard, and remarked:

"Bill has done it! All goes lovely."

At sunrise the hunters resumed their march, though Cherokee Bill had still not joined. But Ridge again passed no comment on the absence.

CHAPTER XXV

WE HEAR FROM CHEROKEE BILL

It is commonly in September that the savages "go in for the winter hunt," in the region where our story takes place. These hunts are the more important from the animals' fur being in prime condition, and, of course, fetching a better price at the trading centres. The picked hunters of various Indian nations come into the great northern wilds, and are the more mixed up recently, as the railway pioneers and settlers arrive in too strong force to pay much heed to treaty restrictions. The upshot is, that while a tacit truce is tolerably well maintained, so long as every arrow and bullet is required to make "eatable meat," the view, often the contact of enemies, causes a stray hunter of any race to thread his way as gingerly as a soldier advancing among mines, countermines, and torpedoes. Unless under exceptional circumstances, though, the main bodies do not fall on one another. Personal interest, the only motor, imposes this restraint on their ferocious habits.

In sooth, besides the furs they sell, the red men have to preserve some for garments; moreover, there is the flesh of the prizes to be dried by sun or fire, jerked, or crubbed up with salt, to enable them to pass the rigorous winter so fatal to improvident tribes.

As the game gets crowded away from the farmers' axe and the locomotive engine whistle, it thickens, naturally, in the final retreats. In this quarter, it fairly swarms. The buffaloes run still in countless herds; there is plenty of elk, beaver, deer, bear, musk ox, foxes of several kinds, wolves, red, grey, and white, musquash, ermine, a few opossum; and, for winged game, turkeys, prairie fowl, bustard, eagles, and so on. And, besides, the clearer waters furnish fine fish – salmon, trout, perch, sturgeons, the great white fish, and small fry profusely.

Hence the nomads guard this territory as narrowly as their unsteadiness permits. As it is dishonourable for a warrior to use tillage implements, only one or two people sow a little maize, without much assurance they will themselves harvest in the crop. When there is a failure of game, therefore, misery is acute, and famine soon appears to decimate the decaying bands.

The inextinguishable hatred of the ancient possessors of the soil, springs from the invasion and hacking away of the hunting grounds. The trappers and hunters, who went rarely in large knots, were well armed and too well able to take care of their heads to be molested; and, besides, made, no great gaps in the herds. But of late years, selfish, moneymaking, pitiless slaughterers have come out from the advance posts of civilisation, and not only massacred the beasts wantonly for hide and fancy heads and horns, for mere ornaments in millionnaires' vestibules, but in their rear whisky sellers establish shanties. These grow like Jonah's gourd, and wither as fast, it is true; but on their ruins real settlers flock, and towns are speedily laid out. Deer will not abide sheep, it is well known, and so the Indians hate the farmer and grazier only a point less fiercely than these buffalo butchers.

As for the moral: the Indians say that the land was their fathers', or that of the strong hand. When they uphold the latter doctrine, the pioneers plead for the Government troops to take them at their word, or let them wipe the varmint out.

Closing this necessary digression sharply, we proceed with our tale.

The diverse aborigines assembled for the great winter hunt had never been so annoyed before as by the almost simultaneous intrusion of Sir Archie Maclan's sledging party from Canada, the Half-breeds from Red River of the North, and Captain Kidd's gold grabbers from the South.

The Crows had fleshed their arrows the first in the Scotch party, and the news had swiftly crossed the wastes of "a heap of scalps and plunder" being obtained. The mock Chippeway guide had become a hero of legend. The attack on the Half-breeds, though a repulse, was also commended, and Ahnemekee had added laurels to his wreath.

Whilst this news was still fresh, an Indian camp was established on the bank of Bear River, an affluent of Red River which does not always feed it, being sometimes "lost" in a sinkhole on the way when the waters fall low. Bears did not people the shore now; that was a tradition.

A considerable portion of the head tribe of Piegans occupied the score and a half of buffalo hide tents, sodded at the bottom edge to keep out the cold and wet. These Indians appertain to the great nation of the Blackfeet, still one of the most warlike and, consequently, most dreaded of the Nor'-Westers. They are a little free in their reading of hunting law, as they are known to go and steal horses on the Mexican frontier, whether the Apaches and Comanches like the inroad or not.

This troop comprised some two hundred "big braves." The several headmen, or captains, obeyed a sachem called "Knife-painted-with-Blood," or more concisely, "Red Knife." He had valiantly won the title by preferring hand-to-hand struggles.

He was only about thirty, standing clear six feet, and not bowlegged, more slender than bulky, but unusually active and skilful with various weapons, though with the knife he could execute any feat. His expression was a haughty one, rather majestic when not cruel and scornful. His smallish, black, beadlike eyes, deep set, sparkled with cunning, malice, and fearlessness. He was idolised by his followers, and though the office of war chief is precarious, and such a one is often forced to make concessions or be deposed, never had Red Knife met discussion for his order. He reigned like an Asiatic monarch.

Ordinarily, as the women and children are indispensable for the meat making, and fur and skin dressing, the Indians must have them and their dogs and pack ponies along with them. The dogs, for once, get fully fed, and so become too appetising with their round paunches, and are sacrificed in feast when not required for burdens.

On this occasion the Piegans had no living impediments in their camp, and the warriors had not replaced the war paint pictures with peaceful emblems. This proved clearly that this party only pretended to be out a-hunting, and sought an opportunity to outdo the Crows in an attack on the white intruders.

For some ten days they had been located at their regular encampment. To prevent quarrels, each hunting party occupies the same site from time out of mind.

Among Indian beliefs is the singular one that each tribe has an animal ancestor, whose image or present lineal representative is their totem, or sacred standard. Its shape is tattooed on the bosom. When the size or rarity of the actual animal prevents even its skin being portable, its figure is painted on a banner, extremely revered, and guarded by an old warrior, the counterpart to our ensign. Over and above this public token is another one, only known to the upper class of "men of the medicine," being a grand pass sign, practically universal. We have only to add that the good sense which tempers the superstition of the North American savage allows him, when hungry, to hunt, kill, and eat the animal of his reverence, though, truly, he always apologises by way of grace to the victim. But the supersacred emblem would be respected in any emergency. Luckily, this is chosen among such uncommon, even extinct, or, perhaps, fabulous creatures, that it would be exempt from maltreatment in any case.

The tribe of Red Knife were convinced that the grizzly bear was their great grandfather, and so always came to Bear River as a hunting home.