Part 16 (1/2)
”Well then, as there is no necessity for my going to bed before my ordinary time, I'll let you return alone, for I don't feel at all disposed to give up this bear after tracking him so many hours. He's only a small one, to judge from his footprints, and I am a pretty sure shot, you know.”
”Be it so, Max--but don't be late, else I'll have to send men to look for you!”
Lumley got up and left me--making a straight line for Fort Wichikagan, as we had named our outpost, and leaving me in a dreamy state of mind beside the spring.
It was a delightful afternoon in that most charming period of the American season which is styled the Indian summer; when mosquitoes, sand-flies, and all other insect-tormentors disappear, and the weather seems to take a last enjoyable fortnight of sunny repose before breaking into winter.
I fell into a pleasant reverie. The backwoods of the Great Nor'-west vanished from my mental view, and, with eyes half closed, I indulged in memories of home and all its sweet a.s.sociations.
Bethinking me suddenly of my reason for remaining where I was, I sprang up, seized my gun, and began to follow the trail of the bear. Before descending from the eminence, however, I took a look round the landscape, and saw the figure of an Indian woman in the distance, proceeding towards our fort. Although too far-off to be distinguished by feature, I could clearly perceive the light-blue cotton kerchief which formed part of the dress of Waboose.
At once my interest in the bear vanished, and I began to follow the Indian girl instead. I had not seen her since the evening of our arrival at the lake, and I felt a strong desire to make further inquiries as to the circ.u.mstances of her father's life among the Indians and his unfortunate death.
Waboose had not seen me. By making a wide and rapid detour I got in front of her and sat down on a fallen tree at a spot where she was sure to pa.s.s.
As she drew near, I could not fail to observe how graceful her port was, and how different from that of the other girls with whom her lot had been cast.
”a.s.suredly,” muttered I to myself, ”her father was a gentleman!”
Leaving my gun on the bank on which I had been seated, I advanced to meet her. She showed a very slight symptom of surprise, and, I thought, of uneasiness, on seeing me, but made no remark until I had spoken. At first I was about to adopt the Indian style of address, and begin with ”my red sister,” but the phrase, besides being false, appeared to me ridiculous; still, the ice had to be broken somehow, so I made a bungling plunge.
”Blue-eyes wanders far to-day from the wigwams of her--her--people?”
A gleam of surprise mingled with pleasure rippled over her pretty face when she found that I could speak to her in the native tongue.
”Yes,” she replied in the same language. ”I have wandered far. I was the bearer of a message.”
As she volunteered no more I continued:
”If Waboose goes to her wigwam, will she object to the pale-face bearing her company?”
With something like a graceful inclination of the head, the Indian girl gave me to understand that she had no objection.
”An _Indian_!” thought I, ”she's a _lady_ in disguise, as sure as I am a fur-trader!”
Of course I was careful not to give her, either by tone or look, the slightest hint of what was pa.s.sing in my mind, and was about to continue my remarks, when a rustling in the bushes caused us both to look round quickly. The foliage parted next moment close to us, and before I had time to think a large brown bear bounded into the open s.p.a.ce. It seemed to be taken as much by surprise as we were, and I have no doubt would have turned and fled if it had not been so near. It rose on its hind legs, however, to attack us, and then I perceived that it was not the small bear which Lumley and I had been tracking.
The blood rushed to my head when I remembered that the monster stood between me and the bank on which my gun was lying! Then the feeling that the helpless Indian girl was at its mercy filled me with feelings which are indescribable. Thought is swifter than the lightning-flash.
Much more than I have written flashed through my brain during those two or three seconds, but one overmastering idea filled me--I would save _her_, or peris.h.!.+
I glanced sharply round. To my surprise she had fled! So much the better. I could at least keep the creature engaged till she had got well away.
Drawing the small hatchet which like all Nor'westers I carried in my belt, I rushed at the bear and made a cut at its head with all the force that lay in my arm. Where the blow fell I know not, but apparently it was ineffective, for, with a quick vicious turn of its paw, the bear struck my weapon from my hand with such violence that it flew over the tree-tops as if shot from a catapult, and I stood unarmed--helpless--at the creature's mercy!
The terrible feeling that death was so near almost unnerved me, but the thought of Waboose caused me to utter a roar of mingled rage and despair as I doubled my fist and launched it full against the monster's nose!
At that moment a loud report at my ear deafened and almost stunned me.
Next instant the bear lay dead at my feet. I looked round and beheld Waboose standing close to me with my gun in her hands!
”n.o.ble heroine!” I exclaimed, but as I exclaimed it in English she did not understand. She had, indeed, a very slight smattering of that language--of which more hereafter--but ”n.o.ble heroine” was not at that time in her vocabulary!
Instead of trembling or looking pale, as I might have expected to see her, Waboose looked at me in the most composed manner, and with something on her lip that seemed to me like a smile of amus.e.m.e.nt. In some confusion, I thanked her for having saved my life.