The Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

  OFF ON A HUNT.

  The Beaver did not often smile, but when Bart tried to explain hiswishes to him that he should lead a little party out into the plains toshoot buffalo for the party, his stolid, warlike countenance beganslowly to expand; there was a twinkle here and a crease there; hissolemn, watchful eyes sparkled; then they flashed, and at last a look ofjoy overspread his countenance, and he said a few words eagerly to theinterpreter.

  "The Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth," began the latter slowly, "says that it isgood, and that we will go and hunt bison, for it is men's work, whileminding the grazing cattle here is only fit for squaws."

  The Indians immediately began their preparations, which were marked bytheir brevity. Rifles and ammunition were examined, girths weretightened, and small portions of dried meat tied to the pad saddlesready for use if required, though it was hoped that a sufficiency offresh meat would soon be obtained.

  Then it was reported to Dr Lascelles that all was ready.

  At that moment it seemed as if there were two boys in the camp, and thatthese two were sun-blackened, toil-roughened Joses, and Bart.

  For these two could not conceal their eagerness to be of the huntingparty, and every now and then Joses kept stealing a quick, animal-likeglance at Bart, while the latter kept glancing as sharply at thefrontiersman.

  Neither spoke, but their looks said as plainly as could be:

  "What a shame it will be if he goes, and I have to stay in camp."

  The Indians had mounted, and were sitting like so many bronze statues,waiting for the Doctor's permission to go; for military precision anddiscipline had of late been introduced, and regular guards and watcheskept, much to the disgust of some of the Englishmen, who did not scrupleto say that it was quite unnecessary.

  Meanwhile the Doctor seemed to have been seized with a thoughtful fit,and stood there musing, as if he were making some plan as to the future.

  Bart kept on trying to catch his eye, but in vain. Then he glancedtowards where the Beaver was seated upon his horse, with his keen blackeyes fixed upon the youth, and his look seemed to Bart to say: "Are notyou coming?"

  "I don't like to ask leave to go," thought Bart; "but oh, if I couldonly have permission! What a gallop! To be at the back of a drove ofbison as they go thundering over the plain! It will be horrible if Ihave to stay."

  He looked towards where Joses stood frowning heavily, and still theDoctor gave no orders. He seemed regularly absorbed in his thoughts.The Beaver was growing impatient, and his men were having hard work toquiet their fiery little steeds, which kept on snorting and pawing upthe sand, giving a rear up by way of change, or a playful bite at somecompanion, which responded with a squeal or a kick.

  At last Joses began making signs to Bart that he should come over to hisside, but the lad did not see them, for his eyes were fixed upon theDoctor, who at last seemed to start out of his musing fit.

  "Ah!" he said; "yes, you men had better go. Tell them, Bart, to drivethe bison as near camp as they can before they kill them. It will saveso much trouble."

  "Yes, sir," replied Bart, drawing in his breath in a way that soundedlike a sigh. "Any other orders?"

  "No, my boy, no. Or, stop; they ought to have an Englishman with themperhaps. Better let Harry go; we can spare him. Or, stay, send Joses."

  The frontiersman uttered a snort, and was about turning to go to thespot where his horse was tethered, when he stopped short, to standstaring at Bart, with a look full of commiseration, and Bart read ittruly--"I'll stop, my lad, if you can get leave to go instead."

  Then came fresh words from the Doctor's lips--words that sent the bloodgalloping through Bart's veins, and made his nerves thrill and his eyesflash with delight.

  "I suppose you would not care to go upon such a rough expedition asthis, Bart?" the Doctor said.

  "Oh, but I should, sir," the lad exclaimed. "I'd give anything to go--if you could spare me," he added.

  The Doctor looked at him in a half-thoughtful, half-hesitating way, andremained silent for a time, while Bart felt upon the tiptoe ofexpectation, and in a horrible state of dread lest his guardian shouldalter his mind.

  "Better stop, Bart," he said at last. "Bison-hunting is very difficultand dangerous work. You might be run or trampled down, or tossed, orgoodness knows what beside."

  "I'd take the greatest care to be out of danger, sir," said Bart,deprecatingly.

  "By running into it at every turn, eh, my boy?" said the Doctor,good-humouredly. "Then I'll ask the opinion of Joses, and see what hesays. Here, Joses!"

  The frontiersman came up at a trot, and then stood leaning upon hisrifle.

  "What do you think?" asked the Doctor. "Would it be safe to allow Barthere to go with you after the bison?"

  "You mean buffler, don't you?" said Joses, in a low, growling tone.

  "No; I mean bison," replied the Doctor, sharply. "You people call thembuffalo. I say, do you think it safe for him to go with you?"

  "Safe? Course it is," growled Joses. "We shall want him too. He's solight, and his Black Boy is so swift, that the hunting party will get onbetter and cut out more buffalo meat if he comes."

  "Well, then, according to that, Bart," said the Doctor, good-humouredly,"I suppose I must let you go."

  "If you please, sir," said Bart, quietly; and then, with a gush ofboyish enthusiasm, "I'd give anything to go, sir--I would indeed."

  "Then I suppose you must go, Bart. Be off!"

  The lad rushed off, followed by Joses, who seemed quite as much excitedand as overjoyed, for he kept on slapping Bart upon the shoulder, andgiving vent to little "hoorays" and "whoops", and other inhuman cries,indicative of his delight; while no sooner did the Beaver realise thatJoses and Bart would be of the party than he began to talk quickly tothe interpreter, then to his followers, and at last sat theremotionless, in dignified silence, waiting for what was to come.

  Stolid Indian as he was, though, he could not keep it up, but dashed hisheels into his pony's ribs after a few moments, and cantered to whereJoses and Bart were making their preparations, and, leaping to theground, he eagerly proffered his services.

  They were not needed, and he stood looking on, talking eagerly in hisown language, putting in an English word wherever he could think of one,or fancied that it would fit, till all seemed ready, and Bart stoodpatting his little arch-necked black cob, after slinging his rifle overhis shoulder.

  Just then the Doctor waved his hand as a signal to him of farewell, andreading it also as a sign that they might set off, Bart leaped into hissaddle, Joses followed suit, and saying something to his pony whichstarted it off, the Beaver seemed to swing himself out into a horizontalposition over his steed's back, and then dropped into his place, andthey all then cantered up to where the rest of the Indians wereimpatiently waiting.

  "All ready?" cried Bart.

  "Ready we are, Master Bart," growled Joses.

  "Off, then," cried Bart, waving his hand, when, amidst a ringing cheerfrom the little crowd of lookers-on, the bison-hunters went off at fullspeed over the sandy plain, making for the left of the lake; and as Bartturned in his saddle to gaze back, the camp, with its round-toppedwaggons, the flat mountain, and the faintly shown track up to itssummit, looked like some beautiful panorama, above which the great flagblew out in the brisk breeze, and flapped and waved its folds merrily asif flaunting defiance to every Indian on the plain. But as Bart gazedup at the flag, he could not help thinking what a mere scrap of colouredcloth it was, and what a very little the Indians would think of it ifthey determined to come down and attack the camp in their might.