Part 11 (2/2)

”I cannot say that it does--hand me another; no, not a little thing like that, a big one full of marrow, so--. You see, old boy, a band of beads round the head, a sky-blue cloth bodice, a skirt of green flannel reaching only to the knees, cloth leggings ornamented with porcupine quills and moccasined feet, do not naturally suggest my respected mother or sisters.”

For the first time in our acquaintance I felt somewhat disgusted with my friend's levity, and made no rejoinder. He looked at me quickly, with slightly raised eyebrows, and gave a little laugh.

With a strong effort I crushed down my feelings, and said in a tone of forced gaiety:--

”Well, well, things strike people in strangely different lights. I thought not of the girl's costume but her countenance.”

”Come, then, Max,” returned my friend, with that considerate good nature which attracted men so powerfully to him, ”I admit that the girl's face might well suggest the thought of dearer faces in distant lands--and especially her eyes, so different from the piercing black orbs of Indian squaws. Did you note the--the softness, I was going to say truthfulness, of her strangely blue eyes?”

Did I note them! The question seemed to me so ridiculous that I laughed, by way of reply.

I observed that Lumley cast on me for the second time a sharp inquiring glance, then he said:--

”But I say, Max, we must have our arms looked to, and be ready for a sudden call. You know that I don't love fighting. Especially at the commencement of our sojourn would I avoid mixing myself up with Indians'

quarrels; but if our guide comes back saying that their camp is in danger, we must help him. It would never do, you know, to leave women and children to the mercy of ruthless savages.”

”Leave woman and children!” I exclaimed vehemently, thinking of only one woman at the moment, ”I should _think_ not!”

The tone of indignation in which I said this caused my friend to laugh outright.

”Well, well,” he said, in a low tone, ”it's a curious complaint, and not easily cured.”

What he meant was at the time a mystery to me. I have since come to understand.

”I suppose you'll all agree with me, lads,” said Lumley to the men who sat eating their supper on the opposite side of the fire, and raising his voice, for we had hitherto been conversing in a low tone, ”if Big Otter's friends need help we'll be ready to give it?”

Of course a hearty a.s.sent was given, and several of the men, having finished supper, rose to examine their weapons.

The guns used by travellers in the Great Nor'-west in those days were long single-barrels with flint-locks, the powder in which was very apt to get wet through priming-pans and touch-holes, so that frequent inspection was absolutely necessary.

As our party consisted of twelve men, including ourselves, and each was armed--Lumley and myself with double-barrelled fowling-pieces--we were able, if need be, to fire a volley of fourteen shots. Besides this, my chief and I carried revolvers, which weapons had only just been introduced into that part of the country. We were therefore prepared to lend effective aid to any whom we thought it right to succour.

Scarcely had our arrangements been made when the lithe agile form of Mozwa glided into the camp and stood before Lumley. The lad tried hard to look calm, grave, and collected, as became a young Indian brave, but the perspiration on his brow and his labouring chest told that he had been running far at the utmost speed, while a wild glitter in his dark eye betrayed strong emotion. Pointing in the direction whence he had come, he uttered the name--”Big Otter.”

”All right. I understand you,” said Lumley, springing up. ”Now, boys, sharp's the word; we will go to the help of our guide. But two of you must stay behind to guard our camp. Do you, Donald Bane and James Dougall, remain and keep a bright look-out.”

”Is it to stop here, we are?” asked Bane, with a mutinous look.

”Yes,” exclaimed our leader so sharply that the mutinous look faded.

”An' are we to be left behind,” growled Dougall, ”when there's fightin'

to be done?”

”I have no time for words, Dougall,” said Lumley in a low voice, ”but if you don't at once set about preparation to defend the camp, I'll give you some fighting to do that you won't relish.”

Dougall had no difficulty in understanding his leader's meaning. He and his friend at once set about the required preparations.

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