Part 32 (1/2)
d.i.c.k, without checking his broom, told how he had discovered the tracks of the Indians, and returned at once, as has been related.
”Then,” said March, looking anxiously at his host, ”you'll not be able to help my poor comrades and the people at the Mountain Fort.”
”It an't poss'ble to be in two places at once nohow ye can fix it,”
returned d.i.c.k, ”else I'd ha' been there as well as here in the course of a few hours more.”
”But should we not start off at once--now?” cried March eagerly, throwing his legs off the ledge and coming to a sitting position.
”You an't able,” replied d.i.c.k quietly, ”and I won't move till I have put things to rights here, an' had a feed an' a night's rest. If it would do any good, I'd start this minute. But the fight's over by this time-- leastwise, it'll be over long afore we could git there! and if it's not to be a fight at all, why n.o.body's none the worse, d'ye see?”
”But maybe they may hold the place for a long time,” argued March, ”an'
the sudden appearance of you and me might turn the scale in their favour.”
”So it might--so it might. I've thought o' that, and we'll start to-morrow if yer able. But it would be o' no use to-night. My good horse can't run for ever right on end without meat and rest.”
”Then we'll start to-morrow,” cried March eagerly.
”Ay, if ye can mount and ride.”
”That I have no fear of; but--but--” at that moment March's eye encountered Mary's--”but what about Mary?”
”Oh, she'll stop here till we come back. No fear o' redskins troublin'
her agin for some time,” replied d.i.c.k, throwing down the broom and patting the girl's head. ”Come, la.s.s, let's have some supper. Show March what a capital cook ye are. I'll kindle a rousin' fire an' spread some pine-branches round it to sit on, for the floor won't be quite dry for some time. What red reptiles, to be sure! and they was actually devourin' my poor old bay horse. What cannibals!”
In the course of an hour the cavern had resumed its former appearance of comfort. The ruddy glare of the fire fell warmly on the rocky walls and on the curling smoke, which found egress through the hole near the roof that let in light during the day. Branches were spread on the floor, so as to form a thick pile near the fire, and on the top of this sat the Wild Man of the West with the most amiable of smiles on his large, handsome countenance, and most benignant of expressions beaming in his clear blue eyes, as he gazed first at Mary, who sat on his right hand, then at March, who sat on his left, and then at the iron pot which sat or stood between his knees, and into which he was about to plunge a large wooden ladle.
”There's worse things than buffalo-beef-bergoo, March, an't there? Ha, ha! my lad, tuck that under yer belt; it'll put the sore bones right faster than physic. Mary, my little pet lamb, here's a marrow-bone; come, yer growin', an' ye can't grow right if ye don't eat plenty o'
meat and marrow-bones; there,” he said, placing the bone in question on her pewter plate. ”Ah! Mary, la.s.s, ye've been mixin' the victuals.
Why, what have we here?”
”Moose nose,” replied the girl with a look of pleasure.
”I do b'lieve--so it is! Why, where got ye it? I han't killed a moose for three weeks an' more.”
”Me kill him meself,” said Mary.
”You!”
”Ay, me! with me own gun, too!”
”Capital!” cried d.i.c.k, tossing back his heavy locks, and gazing at the child with proud delight. ”Yer a most fit an' proper darter for the Wild--a--_ho_!” sneezed d.i.c.k, with sudden violence, while Mary glanced quickly up and opened her eyes very wide. ”Whisst--to--a--hah! whew!
wot a tickler! I raally think the mountain air's a-goin' to make me subjick to catchin' colds.”
March took no notice of the remark. His attention was at that moment divided between Mary's eyes and a marrow-bone.
There is no accounting for the besotted stupidity at this time of March Marston, who was naturally quick-witted, unless upon the principle that prejudice renders a man utterly blind. A hundred glaring and obvious facts, incidents, words, and looks, ought to have enlightened him as to who his new friend d.i.c.k really was. But his mind was so thoroughly imbued, so saturated, with the preconceived notion of the Wild Man of the West being a huge, ferocious, ugly monster, all over red, or perhaps blue, hair, from the eyes to the toes, with canine teeth, and, very probably, a tail, that unintentional hints and suggestive facts were totally thrown away upon him. The fact is, that if d.i.c.k had at that moment looked him full in the face and said, ”_I'm_ the Wild Man of the West,” March would have said he didn't believe it!
”How came ye by the iron pot?” inquired March suddenly, as the sight of that vessel changed the current of his thoughts.