"Well, yes, I did have a finger in the pie," returned the boy, with a self-satisfied air; "but I say, Betty," he added, becoming suddenly serious, "what d"ye think o" what that rascally chief said about takin"
you to his wigwam? You know that means he intends to make you his wife."
"Yes, I know; but G.o.d will deliver me," answered the girl.
"How d"ye know that?"
"Because I put my trust in Him."
"Oh! but," returned the boy, with a slight look of surprise, "unless G.o.d works a miracle I don"t see how He can deliver us from the Redskins, and you know He doesn"t work miracles nowadays."
"I"m not so sure of that," replied the girl. "More than once I have seen a man who had been nearly all his life given to drinking, fighting, thieving, and swearing, and every sort of wickedness, surrender himself body and soul to Jesus Christ, so that he afterwards gave up all his evil ways, and led a pure and peaceable life, trying not only to serve G.o.d himself, but doing his best to bring his old companions to the same state of mind. What would you call that, Tolly?"
"I"m bound to say it"s as near a miracle as can be, if not one altogether. But in what way do you think G.o.d will deliver you just now?"
"That I cannot tell; but I know this, it is written in His Word that those who put their trust in Him shall never be confounded, and I have put my trust in Him. He will never forsake me."
"I wish I had as strong faith as you, Betty," said the boy, with a grave look.
"You may have it--and stronger than I have, for faith is the gift of G.o.d, and we shall get it not in proportion to our trying to get it or to our trying to rouse it, or to our working for it, but according as we _ask_ for it. The Holy Spirit can work anything in us and by us, and _He_ is promised to those who merely ask in the name of Jesus. Ah!
Tolly, have I not often told you this, that in G.o.d"s Word it is written, `Ye have not because ye ask not?""
While these two were yet speaking, the chief called a halt, and, after a brief consultation with some of his braves, ordered the band to encamp for the night.
Soon the camp fires were lighted under the spreading trees, and their bright blaze and myriad sparks converted the gloomy forest into a brilliant banqueting hall, in which, unlike civilised halls, the decorations were fresh and natural, and the atmosphere was pure.
There were at least six camp-fires, each with its circle of grave red warriors, its roasting steaks and its bubbling kettle, in which latter was boiled a rich mixture of dried meat and flour. Some of the Indians stood conversing in low tones, their faces ruddy with the brilliant blaze and their backs as black as the surrounding background. Others lay at length on the ground or squatted thereon, placidly smoking their calumets, or the little iron pipes which formed part of the heads of their tomahawks, or tending the steaks and kettles. To an observer outside the circle of light the whole scene was intensely vivid and picturesque, for the groups, being at different distances, were varied in size, and the intense light that shone on those nearest the fires shed a softer glow on those who were more distant, while on the few Indians who moved about in search of firewood it cast a pale light which barely sufficed to distinguish them from surrounding darkness.
Paul Bevan and his friends occupied a fire by themselves, the only native who stood beside them being Unaco. It is probable that the savage chief const.i.tuted himself their guard in order to make quite sure of them, for the escape of Stalker weighed heavily on his mind. To secure this end more effectively, and at the same time enable the captives to feed themselves, the right arm of each was freed, while the left was tied firmly to his body. Of course, Betty and Tom Brixton were left altogether unbound.
"I feel uncommon lopsided goin" about in this one-armed fashion,"
remarked Paul, as he turned the stick on which his supper was roasting.
"Couldn"t ye make up yer mind to trust us, Unaco? I"d promise for myself an" friends that we wouldn"t attempt to cut away like that big thief Stalker."
The chief, who sat a little apart near the farther end of the blazing pile of logs, smoking his pipe in motionless gravity, took not the slightest notice.
"Arrah! howld yer tongue, Paul," said Flinders, who made so much use of his one arm, in stirring the kettle, turning a roasting venison rib, and arranging the fire, that it seemed as if he were in full possession of two; "why d"ye disturb his majesty? Don"t ye see that he"s meditatin", or suthin" o" that sort--maybe about his forefathers?"
"Well, well, I hope his after mothers won"t have many sulky ones like him," returned Paul, rather crossly. "It"s quite impossible to cut up a steak wi" one hand, so here goes i" the next best fashion."
He took up the steak in his fingers, and was about to tear off a mouthful with his teeth, when Betty came to the rescue.
"Stay, father; I"ll cut it into little bits for you if Unaco will kindly lend me his scalping-knife."
Without a word or look the chief quietly drew the glittering weapon from its sheath and handed it to Betty, who at once, using a piece of sharpened stick as a fork, cut her father"s portion into manageable lumps.
"That"s not a bad notion," said Fred. "Perhaps you"ll do the same for me, Betty."
"With pleasure, Mr Westly."
"Ah, now, av it wouldn"t be axin" too much, might I make so bowld--"
Flinders did not finish the sentence, but laid his pewter plate before the Rose of Oregon with a significant smile.
"I"m glad to be so unexpectedly useful," said Betty, with a laugh.
When she had thus aided her half-helpless companions, Betty returned the knife to its owner, who received it with a dignified inclination of the head. She then filled a mug with soup, and went to Tom, who lay on a deerskin robe, gazing at her in rapt admiration, and wondering when he was going to awake out of this most singular dream, for, in his weak condition, he had taken to disbelieving all that he saw.
"And yet it can"t well be a dream," he murmured, with a faint smile, as the girl knelt by his side, "for I never dreamed anything half so real.
What is this--soup?"
"Yes; try to take a little. It will do you good, with G.o.d"s blessing."
"Ah, yes, with G.o.d"s blessing," repeated the poor youth, earnestly.
"You know what that means, Betty, and--and--I _think_ I am beginning to understand it."
Betty made no reply, but a feeling of profound gladness crept into her heart.
When she returned to the side of her father she found that he had finished supper, and was just beginning to use his pipe.
"When are you going to tell me, Paul, about the--the--subject we were talking of on our way here?" asked Fred, who was still devoting much of his attention to a deer"s rib.
"I"ll tell ye now," answered Paul, with a short glance at the Indian chief, who still sat, profoundly grave, in the dreamland of smoke.
"There"s no time like after supper for a good pipe an" a good story--not that what I"m goin" to tell ye is much of a story either, but it"s true, if that adds vally to it, an" it"ll be short. It"s about a brave young Indian I once had the luck to meet with. His name was Oswego."
At the sound of the name Unaco cast a sharp glance at Bevan. It was so swift that no one present observed it save Bevan himself, who had expected it. But Paul pretended not to notice it, and turning himself rather more towards Fred, addressed himself pointedly to him.
"This young Indian," said Paul, "was a fine specimen of his race, tall and well made, with a handsome countenance, in which truth was as plain as the sun in the summer sky. I was out after grizzly b"ars at the time, but hadn"t had much luck, an" was comin" back to camp one evenin"
in somethin" of a sulky humour, when I fell upon a trail which I knowed was the trail of a Redskin. The Redskins was friendly at that time wi"
the whites, and as I was out alone, an" am somethin" of a sociable critter, I thought I"d follow him up an" take him to my camp wi" me, if he was willin", an" give him some grub an" baccy. Well, I hadn"t gone far when I came to a precipiece. The trail followed the edge of it for some distance, an" I went along all right till I come to a bit where the trail seemed to go right over it. My heart gave a jump, for I seed at a glance that a bit o" the cliff had given way there, an" as there was no sign o" the trail farther on, of course I knowed that the Injin, whoever he was, must have gone down with it.
"I tried to look over, but it was too steep an" dangerous, so I sought for a place where I could clamber down. Sure enough, when I reached the bottom, there lay the poor Redskin. I thought he was dead, for he"d tumbled from a most awful height, but a tree had broke his fall to some extent, and when I went up to him I saw by his eyes that he was alive, though he could neither speak nor move.
"I soon found that the poor lad was damaged past recovery; so, after tryin" in vain to get him to speak to me, I took him in my arms as tenderly as I could and carried him to my camp. It was five miles off, and the road was rough, and although neither groan nor complaint escaped him, I knew that poor Oswego suffered much by the great drops o"
perspiration that rolled from his brow; so, you see, I had to carry him carefully. When I"d gone about four miles I met a small Injin boy who said he was Oswego"s brother, had seen him fall, an", not bein" able to lift him, had gone to seek for help, but had failed to find it.
"That night I nursed the lad as I best could, gave him some warm tea, and did my best to arrange him comfortably. The poor fellow tried to speak his grat.i.tude, but couldn"t; yet I could see it in his looks. He died next day, and I buried him under a pine-tree. The poor heart-broken little brother said he knew the way back to the wigwams of his tribe, so I gave him the most of the provisions I had, told him my name, and sent him away."
At this point in the story Unaco rose abruptly, and said to Bevan--
"The white man will follow me."
Paul rose, and the chief led him into the forest a short way, when he turned abruptly, and, with signs of emotion unusual in an Indian, said--
"Your name is Paul Bevan?"
"It is."
"I am the father of Oswego," said the chief, grasping Paul by the hand and shaking it vigorously in the white man"s fashion.