adventures of fergus and his friends.
in order to account for the sudden death recorded in the last chapter, we must turn aside to follow for a little the fortunes of fergus mckay.
it will be remembered that the vigorous highlander, after overturning the indian canoe and running his own canoe on shore, was seized by the neck, while in the act of reaching forward to grasp his gun, and captured.
now, fergus was of an unusually knowing and wily nature. he possessed what some would call more than his share of readiness in action and sagacity in counsel, though his ordinary reticence and sluggishness of manner concealed those qualities to some extent.
being endued, also, with more than the average allowance of that bodily strength for which his countrymen are famous, his first impulse was to exert his powers and show fight, but he had been taken suddenly at a disadvantage and thrown on his back into the bottom of the canoe, and at least three pair of very muscular hands grasped his throat and other parts of his person. that they were strong hands he felt; that they belonged to big strong savages he had every reason to believe—though it was too dark to see—and that scalping-knives and tomahawks were handy to them he knew to be highly probable. he therefore promptly made up his mind as to his course of action, and at once began to play his part. making a very feeble resistance—just enough, in short, to deceive—he begged for mercy in soft, rather tremulous and very abject tones. true, his language was english—at least that sort of english to which the mountaineers of scotland are addicted—but he trusted to the tone and manner of his speech, not to the sense, which saulteaux, he knew, could not be expected to understand.
“oh! then, don’t be hard on me. don’t kill me, goot shentlemen,” he whined. “it iss a poor worthless thing i am—whatever!”
these remarks, and a few similar appeals for mercy, were accompanied with many dismal groans, as his captors were dragging him up the bank of the stream. pausing for a moment, one of them produced a cord, with which they proceeded to bind their cowardly and unresisting prisoner.
whether the indians were deceived by their victim’s tones and manner, and the soft condition of his carefully relaxed muscles, we cannot tell, but it seemed as if such were the case, for some of the brief remarks made by his captors had in them a smack of undisguised contempt, and when the cord was being put round his arms he felt that the grip of his captors was slightly relaxed.
now or never was his chance! hurling the men on either side of him right and left, he delivered two random blows in front, one of which happily took effect on a savage chest, the other on a savage nose, and cleared the way in that direction. with a bound like that of one of his own mountain deer, he cleared the bank, and plunged into the river.
in ordinary circumstances an attempt of this kind would have been worse than useless, for the indians would not only have jumped into their canoes and overtaken the fugitive, but some of them would have run down the bank of the stream to prevent a landing. some such attempt was indeed made on the present occasion, but the intense darkness was in favour of fergus, and the searching canoes only ran into each other, while the searchers on land were still more at a disadvantage.
now, fergus mckay was as much at home in water as an otter or a musk-rat. indeed he had been known among his playmates in the old country as the “water-rat.” when, therefore, he plunged into the river, as described, he took care to hold his breath as if for a long dive, and drifted with the current a considerable distance as motionless as a dead man. the indians listened intently, of course; for his coming to the surface; for the breathing, and, it might be, for the splashing that would be natural after such a leap, but no breathing or splashing met their ears, for when fergus put up his head, far down the stream, he only let out his nose and mouth for a gentle inspiration, and sank again.
“it iss circumventin’ you at your own trade, fightin’ you wi’ your own claymore, that i will be doin’,” he thought, as he rose a second time, and swam softly with the stream.
fergus had the advantage of being well acquainted with the river in which he was swimming, as well as with the lands in its neighbourhood, and he knew that there was a certain bend in the stream which it would take the canoe of okématan a considerable time to traverse. by cutting across a narrow neck of land there was, therefore, a possibility of his intercepting the canoe.
the saulteaux, of course, might have also taken advantage of this circumstance, but they could have done so only on foot, and they knew that without canoes they could not arrest the progress of the fugitives.
reaching the spot where he wished to land, by intuition almost, the highlander soon found himself on the bank, squeezed the water out of his garments, and set off as quickly as he dared in such darkness. by good fortune he happened to cross a hunter’s track or path—like a sheep-run—with which he was familiar, and, by following it, was able to advance much more rapidly. in a short time he again came out on the left bank of the river. there he sat down on a boulder to listen. profound was his attention to every sound—as profound, almost, as his anxiety, for he knew that if the canoe should have already passed he would be obliged to make his way back to the settlement on foot by a straight course, which meant a slow, toilsome march, scrambling through pathless woods, wading morasses, and swimming across rivers.
he had been seated thus for about half-an-hour, and in his impatience was giving way to despondency, when the plash of water smote upon his ear. cocking the said ear attentively, he was rewarded with another smite, and, in a few minutes, distinctly heard the sound of paddles.
he put his hands to his mouth forthwith, and uttered a peculiar cry.
instantly the sound of the paddles ceased as archie sinclair, looking over his shoulder, said—
“did you hear that, oké?”
before oké could reply, the cry was repeated.
“it is fer-gus,” said the indian, answering to the cry, and steering in the direction whence it came. “are you sure, oké?”
“okématan never speaks till he is sure—waugh!”
“h’m! i’m not so sure o’ that,” muttered the boy to himself.
a few seconds put the matter at rest, for the voice of the highlander was heard, as they cautiously drew near, saying—
“iss it you?”
“i think it is!” replied archie; “why, man, where are you? i can see nothing.”
“wow! man, but i am gled,” said fergus; “just follow your nose, archie, an’ you’ll be all right.”
another moment, and the canoe was checked by fergus, who had stepped into the water to prevent its being injured against the stones.
“you better gie me the paddle, archie, an’ sit beside little bill. it iss tired o’ paddlin’ you will be by now.”
“but where is dan?” asked archie as he complied with this request.
“that iss more than i can tell you, boy, but he’s safe enough i doubt not, for i heard him gie a cheer as he jamp into the wuds, an’ it’s beyont the power o’ a mortal red-skin to chase an active man on a night like this.”
thereupon fergus gave a brief account of all that had happened after the canoes were parted—as far as he knew it—and then an earnest council of war was held as to what was the best course to pursue in the circumstances. being the youngest brave, (for little bill was ignored in this matter), archie was invited to give his opinion first. this was well, because, being enthusiastic and irrepressible, he would probably have given his opinion first at any rate.
“my opinion is,” he said, promptly, “that we turn right-about, and go back to find dan, even though we should have to fight the whole saulteaux nation!”
“that iss well spoken,” said fergus with something of sarcasm in his tone; “but as we hev only two guns amang us, a tomahawk, an’ a knife or two, without any claymores at all, i would like to know what we are to fecht with? moreover, what is to become o’ little bill when we are fechtin’? it iss my opeenion that we put the command o’ our expeedition in the hands of okématan, an’ leave him to do what he thinks best.”
“arch-ee is a true brave,” said the indian, “but he is young. when the wrinkles of age are on his brow he will be a great chief. okématan’s heart is with him to turn back and fight, but wisdom says, go to the settlement, get men, and return as fast as you can.”
“then the sooner we set about it the better, for when wan’s mind is made up, talk iss only lost time.”
with that he shoved the canoe off into the stream, and paddling was resumed with redoubled vigour.
they proceeded in silence till the blush of rosy day in the east dispelled the intense darkness. then, pulling ashore, they kindled a small fire, and, while the chief re-gummed the seams of the canoe, which leaked a little, the others prepared and ate a hasty breakfast.
they were still engaged with this meal, and discussing, not very hopefully, the possibility of reaching red river settlement and returning in time to render relief to dan—supposing that he should require relief—when the sound of fast-dipping paddles was heard beyond the bend of the river just below them.
another moment, and four large canoes, each manned by eight men, swept into view, their red sides glowing in the morning sun, and their occupants driving the water behind them in foam by the vigour of their strokes.
at first it was supposed that this was another band of indians proceeding, possibly, to join that from which they had just escaped; but the fugitives were speedily undeceived by the appearance of the men as they drew nearer.
“i would be thinkin’ that the man in the bow o’ the first canoe is antoine dechamp,” said fergus, as he stood peering over the bushes at the advancing brigade.
“i’m sure it’s dechamp. i’d know him a mile off,” said archie.
“ay, an’ they hev got sight o’ the smoke of our fire, too,” added fergus.
“it is dechamp,” said okématan, decisively, as he stepped into the open and held up his hand to the new arrivals.
a cheer was raised by those in the canoes when the cree chief was recognised, and the flotilla, coming on at full speed, soon reached the bank.
explanations were speedily exchanged, and our fugitives learned that news had been carried to the settlement of the approach of the very band of saulteaux whom they had encountered, and a band of fiery young men, led by dechamp, had come out to meet them for the purpose of asking them whether they meant their visit to be friendly, or whether they wished to measure their strength with the men of red river; as, if so, a sample had come out for the express purpose of accommodating them!
on hearing the news that okématan and fergus had to give, the men—most of whom were half-breeds connected with cree families—gave a cheer and voted for an immediate advance against the saulteaux. this, after very brief palaver, was unanimously agreed to.
“you’ll not object to return with us, i suppose?” asked dechamp of fergus.
“iss it objectin’ to a fecht you will mean?”
“well—it’s not unlikely that there may be something of the sort going if we meet.”
“did you ever hear of a mckay objectin’ to a fecht, antoine?”
dechamp laughed.
“well,” he said, “i know okématan won’t object to turn back, and show us the way to the place where he met the reptiles.”
“okématan was on his way to seek for help,” said the indian quietly.
every one being agreed on this point, the whole band re-embarked, and proceeded on their way up the river. they advanced rapidly, for although the stream was against them it was so sluggish as to be scarcely appreciable, and by keeping near to the banks they were not delayed by it at all.
towards the afternoon the place where the struggle had taken place was reached, but no saulteaux were to be seen. they had taken their departure, and, from the fact that several small things belonging to them had been left behind, it seemed not unlikely that they had obtained information of the expedition sent out against them, and had departed in haste.
“it iss of no use,” said fergus, when this became evident, “for us to keep up a stern-chase after them. they have got too much of a start, so it seems to me, boys, we could not do better than follow up the tracks of daniel davidson an’ make sure that he has got clear away from them.”
to this proposal there was much objection at first, for it involved some of the party quitting the canoes and journeying no one could tell how far through the woods on foot.
“besides,” said one, “dan is quite able to take care of himself, and if he got off in the dark, as you tell us he did, there’s not a man in the saulteaux nation could come up with him either in dark or light.”
“that may be all fery true, my frund,” returned fergus, “nevertheless i’m goin’ to follow up his track, for it is sure that he took no proveesions wi’ him, an’ it was too dark for me to see if he escaped wi’ his gun. dan is a strong man, but the strongest man will be findin’ himself in diffeeculties without grub. it iss followin’ up his trail i will be doin’, wi’ some proveesions on my back, if wan or two o’ you will go wuth me.”
“i will go,” said archie sinclair, promptly, “if some o’ you will promise to take care o’ little bill.”
a laugh greeted this offer, and half-a-dozen of the men at once agreed to take good care of the invalid.
“moreover,” said dechamp, “whoever goes need not go further than the pine portage. the party on foot will have found out, before the canoes reach that, whether dan has got clear off, and they can rejoin the canoes at the portage. so, fergus, i’ll join your party too. who else will go?”
okématan and jacques bourassin here stepped forward, but none of the others seemed disposed to undertake the tramp.
“there iss enough of us—whatever,” remarked the highlander as he and the others put some provisions into their wallets and shouldered their guns. “you will be our leader, antoine dechamp. it iss yourself that knows the outs an’ ins o’ the land better than any of us—except okématan, may be—but i dar’ say he’s not as weel acquaint wi’ the red river woods as wi’ the plains.”
the chief bowed a dignified assent to this proposition, which, however, he hardly understood.
dechamp, being accustomed to lead, accepted the position at once, stepped off on the trail of dan, which had been made distinctly visible when he went crashing through the underwood the day before. fergus followed, and bourassin came third.
“now, then,” said archie, looking into the chief’s face, “come along, oké. you and i will form the rearguard, which is the position of danger and honour in warfare o’ this sort—at least if it isn’t, it ought to be. take care o’ yourself, little bill. we’ll soon find dan. good-bye.”
so saying, the rearguard of the column vanished into the forest, and the others, returning to their canoes, began to descend the river.
archie was nearer the mark than he imagined when he said they would soon find dan. the distance which it had taken our hero so long to traverse in the dark was comparatively short, and the light was only beginning to fade when they came to the edge of the wood where dan had spent the night.
dechamp, of course, was first to come upon his encampment, and the instant he entered it he observed the open space giving a view of the plain beyond. he also saw the wolf sitting on his haunches about two hundred yards off.
quick as the lightning flash his gun flew to his shoulder. dechamp was a first-rate shot. he fired, and, as we have seen, the wolf stretched himself in death upon the plain.
thus was dan davidson rescued at almost the eleventh hour.
