Part 26 (1/2)
”I know it, Unaco, and I know you by report, though we've never met before, and I told that story in your ear to convince ye that my tongue is _not_ `forked.'”
When Paul Bevan returned to the camp fire, soon afterwards, he came alone, and both his arms were free. In a few seconds he had the satisfaction of undoing the bonds of his companions, and relating to them the brief but interesting conversation which had just pa.s.sed between him and the Indian chief.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
At the edge of a small plain, or bit of prairie land, that shone like a jewel in a setting of bush-clad hills, dwelt the tribe of natives who owned Unaco as their chief.
It was a lovely spot, in one of the most secluded portions of the Sawback range, far removed at that time from the evil presence of the gold-diggers, though now and then an adventurous ”prospector” would make his way to these remote solitudes in quest of the precious metal. Up to that time those prospectors had met with nothing to reward them for their pains, save the gratification to be derived from fresh mountain air and beautiful scenery.
It required three days of steady travelling to enable the chief and his party to reach the wigwams of the tribe. The sun was just setting, on the evening of the third day, when they pa.s.sed out of a narrow defile and came in sight of the Indian village.
”It seems to me, Paul,” remarked Fred Westly, as they halted to take a brief survey of the scene, ”that these Indians have found an admirable spot on which to lead a peaceful life, for the region is too high and difficult of access to tempt many gold-hunters, and the approaches to it could be easily defended by a handful of resolute men.”
”That is true,” replied Bevan, as they continued on their way.
”Nevertheless, it would not be very difficult for a few resolute men to surprise and capture the place.”
”Perchance Stalker and his villains may attempt to prove the truth of what you say,” suggested Fred.
”They will certainly attempt it” returned Paul, ”but they are not what I call resolute men. Scoundrels are seldom blessed wi' much resolution, an' they're never heartily united.”
”What makes you feel so sure that they will follow us up, Paul?”
”The fact that my enemy has followed me like a bloodhound for six years,” answered Bevan, with a frown.
”Is it touching too much on private matters to ask why he is your enemy, and why so vindictive?”
”The reason Is simple enough. Buxley hates me, and would kill me if he could. Indeed I'm half afraid that he will manage it at last, for I've promised my little gal that I won't kill _him_ 'cept in self-defence, an' of course if I don't kill him he's pretty sure to kill me.”
”Does Betty know why this man persecutes you so?”
”No--she don't.”
As it was evident, both from his replies and manner, that Bevan did not mean to be communicative on the subject, Fred forbore to ask more questions about it.
”So you think Unaco may be depended on?” he asked, by way of changing the subject.
”Ay, surely. You may depend on it that the Almighty made all men pretty much alike as regards their feelin's. The civilised people an' the Redskins ain't so different as some folk seem to think. They can both of 'em love an' hate pretty stiffly, an' they are both able to feel an'
show grat.i.tude as well as the reverse--also, they're pretty equal in the matter of revenge.”
”But don't we find,” said Fred, ”that among Christians revenge is pretty much held in check?”
”Among Christians--ay,” replied Bevan; ”but white men ain't always Christians, any more than red men are always devils. Seems to me it's six o' one an' half a dozen o' the other. Moreover, when the missionaries git among the Redskins, some of 'em turns Christians an'
some hypocrites--just the same as white men. What Unaco is, in the matter o' Christianity, is not for me to say, for I don't know; but from what I do know, from hearsay, of his character, I'm sartin sure that he's a good man and true, an' for that little bit of sarvice I did to his poor boy, he'd give me his life if need be.”
”Nevertheless, I can't help thinking that we might have returned to Simpson's Gully, and taken the risk of meeting with Stalker,” said Fred.
”Ha! that's because you don't know him,” returned Bevan. ”If he had met with his blackguards soon after leaving us, he'd have overtook us by this time. Anyway, he's sure to send scouts all round, and follow up the trail as soon as he can.”
”But think what a trial this rough journey has been to poor Tom Brixton,” said Fred.