Part 20 (1/2)
The men who had landed, namely, the mate and Al, four other oarsmen and the leadsman, had been in the woods but a minute or two when, without the least warning, a dozen musket shots rang out from the bushes around them, instantly followed by a chorus of terrifying Indian war whoops.
Two of the oarsman fell dead at the first fire; the rest of the party turned and dashed for the boat. But several Indians had crept between them and the landing and a moment elapsed before the mate and Al, who had their revolvers, could drive them back far enough to reach the sh.o.r.e. When they did so, to their horror they discovered the yawl out in mid-stream and some little distance down, rapidly drifting toward the bar. Jim was not to be seen, for he was lying flat in the bottom of the boat to escape the Indian bullets, but he was evidently pulling the rudder ropes to guide the yawl as nearly as possible to the bar. The _Belle Peoria_ had caught the alarm, and her decks were swarming with armed men; but she was just rounding the head of the bar and was still farther away than the yawl, so that her people dared not fire on the Indians for fear of hitting their own men on the bank.
”We'll have to swim for it, boys!” shouted the mate, and flinging off his coat he dived into the river like a duck and struck out for the bar, keeping beneath the surface except when he had to come up for a second to breathe.
Al and the other men followed his example. It was not more than fifty yards to the bar but every inch of the way was fraught with deadly peril. Whenever he came to the surface to breathe, as he had to several times, Al heard the bullets whistling about his head. Once he heard another oarsman, a few feet from him, give a gurgling cry and saw his hands thrust up and clutch the air as he sank, struck by one of the merciless bullets. Before the survivors reached the bar, the fire of those on the steamer had driven the Indians back into the Painted Woods, with probably a greater loss than they had inflicted upon the crew of the yawl, though of the latter, one had drowned and one been shot in the water, besides the two killed on sh.o.r.e at the first fire.
When the survivors were safely back on the _Belle Peoria_, the mate stepped up to Jim, who had landed in the yawl at the lower end of the bar, and shouted,
”You scoundrel, you ran away and left us to s.h.i.+ft for ourselves, didn't you? I've a mind to throw you overboard.”
”I didn't run away,” snarled Jim. ”The yawl slipped off the bank and I couldn't get it back.”
Backing up against a stanchion he faced the angry mate and the crowd behind him like a desperate animal at bay and cast one swift, venomous glance at Al which caused the latter to feel a sudden suspicion.
”Did you think you'd get rid of me that way?” he demanded, confronting the deck hand. ”Were you willing to see six other men murdered just to get even with me?”
Jim dared not look at him again.
”I didn't think anything,” he muttered. ”I tell you, the boat slipped off.”
”It slipped off infernally quick after we landed, then,” cut in the mate. ”You were a quarter of a mile down river when we reached the bank.”
”I couldn't help it; it slipped,” Jim reiterated, as if he could think of no other defence.
”Well, I think you're a liar,” bluntly stated the mate, ”but I can't prove it, so you'll save your skin this time. But if I ever catch you at any more of your scaly, rattlesnake tricks, you'll go to kingdom come mighty quick, and I'll be the man that'll send you there.”
He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Jim to settle as best he could with the other deck hands, all of whom were now feeling very bitter toward him. A strong party went ash.o.r.e and found and buried the bodies of the unfortunate men who had been killed there, victims of an attack such as brought death to scores of gallant steamboat men during the years of the Sioux wars.
The following day the _Belle Peoria_ reached Fort Rice, where Colonel Dill and his command were very glad to see them and to hear the first news of General Sully's expedition which they had received in several weeks. The garrison was in good health and spirits; but they had been several times attacked by Indians, and were now much concerned for the safety of a large emigrant train from Minnesota, under Captain James Fisk, which had arrived at the fort in July and moved West over Sully's trail, in spite of warnings, determined to reach the gold mines. This party a little later came very near being annihilated by the Indians on the edge of the Bad Lands; but a strong relief column sent out by General Sully after his return to Fort Rice finally rescued them and brought them back safe.
After leaving Colonel Dill's hospitable command the journey of the steamboat was uneventful for several days, until one morning she came to the bank at Fort La Framboise. She was stopping wholly on Al's account and with beating heart he went ash.o.r.e, accompanied by Wallace and Captain Lamont. They ascended a gently sloping hill to the small and rather dilapidated trading post, which stood on its summit. Here they found that the factor, a Frenchman, was not yet up, but they soon got him out.
”Un white boy by ze name Tomas Breescoe?” said the factor, when Al had explained their errand. ”Oui, je savvy heem. Il est un reg'lair leetle Injin. Py gar, he ride like ze centaur!” His eyes narrowed shrewdly. ”Un Yanktonais bring heem here, seex, saven week ago. Sacre! How mooch I pay pour ze pauvre boy release! You pay me back, oui?”
”Certainly,” replied Al, yet with many misgivings, for he had no idea what the Frenchman might ask. ”You shall be repaid for any expense you may have been put to.”
Captain Lamont nudged him. ”He's going to gouge you,” he whispered.
”Don't be too eager. Find out where Tommy is.”
”I haven't much money,” continued Al, speaking the sober truth. ”Is my brother here now?”
”Eet ees not so ver' mooch,” proceeded the factor, ignoring Al's question and quickly changing his tack regarding the ransom. ”T'ree horse, feefty pound flouair, ten pound shot et ten pound powdair.”
Al was aghast, for he understood that these items would cost far more than he had money to pay for. But here Captain Lamont broke into the conversation.
”That's more than Mr. Briscoe or I can pay you for just now,” said he, blandly. ”However, we can give you a note and pay the amount over to Mr.
Charles P. Chouteau for you when we reach St. Louis.”
Mr. Chouteau was the manager of the American Fur Company and the factor knew as well as did Captain Lamont that he would not allow one of his employees to practise such extortion upon the relatives or friends of an unfortunate prisoner rescued from the savages. The Frenchman s.h.i.+fted his feet uneasily.