Two Arrows was treated to an excellent breakfast the morning after his capture. He also saw a white man eat with a knife and fork, and had all the sugar he wanted for the first time. It was a wonderful morning, and a very brilliant pair of eyes were drinking in its marvels greedily.
Rifles, pistols, and all that sort of thing were familiar enough to the young Nez Percé, but he saw new patterns of them and gained tremendous notions of the wealth and skill of the pale-faces who could make such weapons.
"Father," said Sile, "I wish he could read. He's a bright fellow."
"Show him everything you have with a picture in it."
There was no fear that Two Arrows would try to run away after that process began. The printed matter of any sort did not convey to him an idea; it was so much mud; it meant nothing whatever. The pictures were another thing, and Sile had provided himself well with illustrated reading. Two Arrows almost gave up the sullen pride that refused to be astonished, and Sile began to understand "sign language." At all events he nearly twisted himself out of shape in an effort to explain to his captive the nature of ships, cannon, camels, and steam-engines. He felt as if he were a sort of missionary. At last Judge Parks himself handed Two Arrows a photograph of an Indian chief, given him at one of the frontier agencies a few weeks before.
"Ugh! Pawnee!" said Two Arrows.
"I told you so," exclaimed Yellow Pine. "If you showed him dogerrytypes of every tribe there is, he'd name 'em at sight. Jedge, it's about time we set out. I've got a mount ready for him."
Jonas more fully explained to Two Arrows that a visit of peace was planned, and that he was to be marched home again, but the face of the young Indian clouded. That was the one thing he stood in mortal dread of. He thought of the jeers and derision sure to greet him from all other Nez Percé boys when they should see him come home without any glory, and he hung back.
"Mount now," shouted Yellow Pine, with a motion towards the animal he had selected.
A horse! To ride back, instead of returning tired and on foot. That was quite another matter.
"Whoop!" he could not have restrained that yell of relief, and in an instant he was in the saddle. He had been used to riding a barebacked pony, and that made his present outfit the more splendid. All his vanity and ambition came pouring back upon him, and he almost felt as if he had captured that squad of pale-faces and was bringing them in as prisoners. He dashed forward at once, with Sile on one side, Yellow Pine on the other, and the rest following, except a camp-guard of two miners.
Less than an hour later all the Nez Percé band came out under the trees to see what was coming.
"Two Arrows!" almost breathlessly exclaimed Na-tee-kah. "Caught some pale-faces this time."
"Got horse," said Ha-ha-pah-no.
Long Bear and his warriors did not say a word, for they were all but dumb with astonishment from the moment that they recognized the returning wanderer. What would not that remarkable boy do next? Had he killed anybody? Had he really stolen all those white men, or had they stolen him? There he was, anyway, and in a few moments more Yellow Pine and Judge Parks had said "How?" to Long Bear and his best men. Indian manners required that Two Arrows should be silent before his elders until spoken to, but Long Bear almost instantly inquired,
"Where find boy?"
"In camp," said Yellow Pine. "Try to steal horse. Too many pale-face. Catch him. All safe. Big thief some day. Boy now."
All of Two Arrows's dream of glory went out of sight before the grim smiles with which the Nez Percé warriors heard that explanation. They perfectly understood the matter, and that the pale-faces before them wished to be good friends. On their part, they were a good deal more than willing, for they had much to gain from peace and very little from war with mounted riflemen.
"Prisoner?" groaned Na-tee-kah.
"Boy all right," grumbled Ha-ha-pah-no, indignantly. "Find pale-face camp anyhow. Go right in. Old brave all asleep. Never find anything. Big chief by-and-by."
There was some truth in that view of the matter, and Long Bear made a remark that had a little the same sound. At all events Two Arrows was permitted to dismount and walk away, while the conference with his captors went on. In ten seconds he was exhibiting his little hand-mirror to Na-tee-kah and a crowd of other young people, and found his importance coming back to him. None of them had ever ventured to creep, all alone, into a white man's corral. Not a boy or girl among them had such a treasure as the mirror. He had made friends with the pale-faces, at all events. In fact, his standing in that community was rising with tremendous rapidity, until somehow or other the story of his wrestling match with Sile Parks began to be whispered around, and it became necessary for Two Arrows to point at Yellow Pine as the great brave who had really pinioned him. There was not a Nez Percé in the band, old or young, who felt any longing for a grapple with the sinewy, big-boned old miner and all would have been right but for the fact that Two Arrows had not at once escaped from Sile.
NOT A BOY OR GIRL AMONG THEM HAD SUCH A TREASURE AS THAT MIRRORToList
A good understanding was easily established between the miners and the red men, and it was not long before Sile was off his horse and was going around among the young people. He used his eyes as busily as Two Arrows had done, but it is to be doubted if he saw as much, even in what there was to see. It was not long before Na-tee-kah had as good a looking-glass as her brother, and a general distribution of small presents sealed the arrangement that the miners were not to be plundered by that particular band.
"Now, jedge," said Yellow Pine at last, "it's time we moved. S'pose we fetch along that young cub and his sister. Company for Sile. Make the old chief feel fine."
Long Bear gave several grunts of assent when spoken to, and once more Two Arrows felt as if he were growing very fast indeed.
"We'll go back and move the wagons," said Pine to Sile. "You and your young redskin can scout on down the valley. You've got your directions 'bout finding us. Don't go too fast nor too far. The Indian'll smell any danger long before you will. He won't be roped in by anybody in broad daylight, I can tell ye."
He did not look like it as he rode proudly away from the village. Jonas had mounted Na-tee-kah behind him, but Ha-ha-pah-no was to follow the wagons on foot, that the chief's daughter might have somebody to superintend her visit. When Ha-ha-pah-no set out in her turn nearly half the village went with her uninvited, and it took all the authority of Long Bear to keep the other half from keeping them company.
"Come," said Two Arrows to Sile, after a few minutes of silent riding. "We go. Ugh! Shoot a heap."
He had picked up more English words, somehow or other, than he had at first acknowledged, but Sile found it needful to work the sign language pretty industriously for all that.
Na-tee-kah had spent her life in the close retirement of an Indian village. She had been housed up among plains and mountains from all the world, and knew nothing about it. She had lived in a narrower prison than the smallest country village in all the East. The idea of visiting a white man's camp and seeing all there was in it made her tremble all over. She knew her father and ever so many others would be there in an hour or so, and that her wonderful brother had gone on a hunt with the son of the pale-face chief, but she was to enter a strange place with only white warriors for company. It was an awful thing to do, and she could not have done it, nor would Long Bear have consented to it, but for something they both saw in the face of old Judge Parks when he patted her on the head and said,
"Be my daughter a little while. Make a white girl of her for a week. Take good care of her."
Red men have keen eyes for character, and Long Bear understood. So did Na-tee-kah, and yet she would have run away and hidden but for her curiosity, stirred up by what Two Arrows had told her of the contents of that camp and its wagons. An offer to a white girl of a trip to Paris might be something like it, but it would not be much more. Her eyes danced and her fingers tingled as they drew near, and yet the only thing she could see was a couple of commonplace tilted wagons and a lot of horses and mules. The moment she was on the ground the old judge came to her assistance.
"Now, Na-tee-kah, I'll show you something. Come this way."
She stood as straight as an arrow and walked along courageously, but it required all her strength of mind and will to do so. She watched him in silence, as he went into and came out of one of those mysterious rolling tents full of all unknown riches.
"There, now. That'll keep you busy while we're getting ready to move."
She held out both her hands, and when Ha-ha-pah-no at last put her own hand upon her shoulder and said "Ugh!" Na-tee-kah started as if she had been waked from a dream. She had been looking at pictures that told her of another world.
"Heap lie," said Ha-ha-pah-no. "Pale-face tell 'em. Make lie about squaw. There!"
It was a picture of several ladies in evening dress, and Na-tee-kah had been looking at it for five minutes. No such woman as those could possibly be, nor could any human beings get themselves up so wonderfully. It was all a lie, and any intelligent squaw could detect the fraud at a glance.
Na-tee-kah drew a long breath that sounded like a sigh, and just then the shout of Yellow Pine announced that all was ready for a move.
"We'll reach that mine to-morrow night, jedge, if we're lively. Everything's goin' prime now."
With or without an invitation the relatives of Na-tee-kah trudged along with the wagons mile after mile, and Long Bear gained an extra pound of tobacco by sticking to Yellow Pine until the train halted at noon.
Ha-ha-pah-no scolded Na-tee-kah pretty nearly all the way for not knowing more about pale-faces, but she broke down at the noon camp-fire. She undertook to play cook, and in half a minute Jonas discovered that she did not know how to make coffee.
"Wouldn't you have b'iled a black soup?" he exclaimed.
"Poor old squaw!" said Ha-ha-pah-no. "Know all about him. Drink some once; bitter. Put sweet in. Stir him up, so."
"Ugh!" said Na-tee-kah. "Know so much. Ask Two Arrows when he come."
Sile Parks and Two Arrows had the whole valley before them and all the mountains and valleys beyond, and one knew as much about them as did the other. Neither had ever been just there before, and yet the young Nez Percé was at home, and Sile was in a new country. Sile could ride well and he could shoot well, but here at his side was a born hunter. With all sorts of descriptive signs he asked him,
"Did you ever kill a deer?"
"Ugh! heap deer. Heap bear. Heap buffalo. Big heap."
And then all the pride of Two Arrows came to help him explain that he had killed a cougar all alone, and a big-horn and a grisly. By the time he had succeeded in doing so Sile regarded him as a red-skinned wonder, but had so interpreted some of his signs as to include a big snake, a land-turtle, and a kangaroo in the list of asserted victories. It gave him some doubts as to the others, for he said to himself,
"No rabbit can jump as far as he says that thing did. There are no kangaroos here, and they have no horns. I give it up. Maybe he is lying, but he doesn't look so."
Two Arrows was boasting quite truthfully, and the trouble was with Sile's translation.
"Ugh! look. Rifle—"
Sile's eyes followed the pointing finger in vain for a moment. At first he saw nothing but a clump of sumach bushes, but for once he asked no questions. What could be among them? One seemed to move a little. Could it be possible? the horns of a buck!
"Maybe I can hit him. I've heard of such a thing. I'll aim below them; his body is there somewhere."
Two Arrows could have told him just how that deer was standing, but Sile's guess-work was pretty good. He let his rifle-muzzle sink on a line with one of those antlers, and had lowered it a little too much when he pulled the trigger. The kicking of the rifle made the aim a good one, for the sharp report was answered by a great bound from the cover of the sumachs, and in an instant a mortally-wounded buck was dashing across the open, with One-eye close at his heels.
"Ugh! got him," said Two Arrows. "Heap shoot. Bow not so good."
Sile had offered to lend him a rifle at starting, but Two Arrows had prudently refused to disgrace himself. He had never owned one and did not care to show his lack of skill.
That was a fine dash after One-eye and the wounded buck, but it was a short one. The bullet had done its work so thoroughly that there was little trouble left for the dog when he seized his victim's throat to pull him down.
There had been some hunting done by the mining party on their long journey, but Sile could have told Two Arrows if he had chosen to do so, that here lay the first deer he had ever killed. He could also have told him that it appeared to be the largest, fattest, finest, most miraculous buck that anybody in the world had ever killed; as it really was even Two Arrows spoke well of the buck and thought well of the shot which had brought it down.
"If I knew where to find our train I'd take it right in," said Sile, as they hoisted the buck to his own saddle. "I'd just as lief walk."
"Find him," said Two Arrows, understanding the searching look Sile gave towards the mountains. "Go so. Come. Get on horse; ride."
He took the lead at once, but it seemed to Sile that he was going in the wrong direction. He was not at all aware that his friend had skilfully directed their hunt on a line nearly parallel, at no great distance, from that which the train must follow. He was therefore doubly astonished when a brief ride brought them within sight of the wagon-tilts. They had halted, and Sile had double comfort: he could show his father his first deer and he could get a hot dinner, for Ha-ha-pah-no could do very well with a steak if not with coffee.
"Which of you killed the deer?" asked the judge, as they rode in.
Sile was silent long enough for Two Arrows to point at him and remark,
"Heap shoot."
"So I did, father, but he pointed him out. I'd never have seen him if I'd been alone."
"Jest so," said Yellow Pine. "There isn't anything else on the earth like the eyesight of an Indian. I've had 'em sight game more'n once that I'd ha' missed sure."
It puzzled Na-tee-kah somewhat that anybody else should have won anything while her wonderful brother was near by, but Ha-ha-pah-no relieved her by remarking,
"Ugh! The red-head kill deer. Two Arrows show him how. Good."
One of the miners had ridden out from the line of march and returned with another deer, so that fresh venison was plentiful in the camp. Two Arrows felt no longing for any more hunting that day, and he bluntly said so. It was ten times more to his liking to ride along with the train and keep his eyes busy. He was studying white men, and all the world knows what a curious study they are. One white boy was also studying him and his sister, and could not understand them at all. Sile's eyes and thoughts ran about over everything he heard or saw until he almost had a headache.
"Tell you what, father," he said to the judge, "when we go into camp again I'm going to show them my box."
"It's a curiosity box. Show it to them."
The road was necessarily somewhat rough, and wagoning was slow work, and before sunset a place was chosen for an all-night camp. Then came Sile's experiment. He hauled a stoutly-made, leather-covered trunk out of one of the wagons, before the eyes of Two Arrows and Na-tee-kah, and it was instantly evident that neither had ever seen one, but that both understood its use. He unstrapped it, but it did not open, and he made them try it. Lock and key were mysteries they had no thought of, and they almost started back with surprise when Sile pushed a thin bit of steel into one side of that contrivance and all the upper part of it could be tipped right over.
Sile's "box" would have been first-rate rummaging for any boy of his acquaintance, and it was a mine of wonders to the two young savages. He had put into it some things which could hardly be useful to him, even if he should be cast away upon a mountain, as Robinson Crusoe was upon an island, and it was so much the better fun for Two Arrows and Na-tee-kah. The fishing-hooks, lines, reel, etc., made the eyes of the former fairly dance, and Sile brought out a joint-rod and put it together, with a reel on, to show him how the machine worked. Two Arrows grew thoughtful over that affair.
"Big fish break him."
"No. Show you about that to-morrow morning."
"Ugh! ugh!" suddenly exclaimed Ha-ha-pah-no. "Red-head got squaw? Boy!"
He did look young to be married, but she was pointing straight at a brush and comb and some other articles which, to her notion, did not belong in the treasury of a young warrior. Sile at once explained that he used them himself, but there were several brushes and combs, and she added,
"Ugh! Beat squaw. Take 'em away from her. What she do?"
"Try it on," said Sile, handing a brush and comb to Na-tee-kah, and a peal of laughter announced the pleasure of the two Indian ladies, old and young. Even Two Arrows dropped a "spoon-hook" to take an interest in that proceeding.
"Come," said Ha-ha-pah-no, with a long string of merry gutturals of explanation that she had seen a white lady at one of the forts putting up the hair of another. She herself could do it, and in twenty seconds more there was a yell from Na-tee-kah and a tooth out of the comb.
"Let me show you," said Sile, and from that moment there was not one sound from the lips of Na-tee-kah. Whether she was hurt or not nobody knew, for if the comb had extracted hair by the handful she would not have whimpered. Ha-ha-pah-no insisted on having her hair combed by Na-tee-kah. She must know how now, it was evident, and she did, for the comb lost another tooth in the very first tangles of Ha-ha-pah-no's hair.
"That's fun," said Yellow Pine. "Jest look at them critters. That there squaw'll crack that lookin'-glass, twistin' her face, 'fore her combin' is done."
She stood it pretty well, but the other contents of the box had less interest now. She and Na-tee-kah preferred to go on with the brush and comb. Even Two Arrows looked at them so enviously that Sile told him the white chiefs did comb their hair. It was enough. Squaws were made to serve braves, and they were both commanded to take charge of his long, bushy, and decidedly tangled barbering. Not for his life would he have uttered a cry of pain, but he made up his mind that a pale-face can endure a great deal before they got through with him.
Supper had to be eaten, and sharp appetites helped them to get away long enough for that duty, but then the brush and comb began again under Sile's instruction.
"That there comb won't last long," said Yellow Pine. "Tell 'em to put on some grease, Sile, and some ribbons. Ribbons, Sile, and some beads, and—"
"And some red flannel," said Jonas, "and some tinware."
"I'd forgotten all about that," exclaimed Sile, springing up.
In a few moments his visitors were in a new state of excitement, for they were tying up their now glossy locks with brilliant ribbons and strips of gay cloth. To these were added some of the brilliant white-metal ornaments that pass for silver among the very youngest pale-face children. Two Arrows put on his full share of all that was offered and became a very gay-looking young Indian. There was no danger that he would stand on his head and spoil his ribbons, but he felt almost too proud to stand on his feet. He felt more and more sure that the world did not contain quite such another hero, and longed for the presence of his whole band, and of his entire tribe, and of several other tribes, that he might walk up and down in front of them and be admired. No white boy with a new stovepipe hat and a pair of yellow kid gloves ever wanted to walk through so many streets or past quite so many "boarding-schools" as did Two Arrows—only that his showing-off places were such as he was best acquainted with.
Na-tee-kah was more quiet than even Ha-ha-pah-no, for that highly respectable squaw had done up her head remarkably.
"All she wants to finish it off is two tin dippers and a set of sleigh-bells. I saw a squaw do that once. There's no telling what they won't put on. But I say, jedge, that there littler one is a born lady, and she's right down good-lookin' too. All she needs is good dressin' and she'd kind o' shine."
There was not a doubt of it, and her highly-colored ribbons had been put on with better taste than those of Ha-ha-pah-no, and they showed to good advantage her clear, dark complexion, brilliant eyes, and regular features. Old Long Bear had a right to be proud of both his children.
It was grand fun, but there came an end to it at last. Two Arrows went out to share with Sile his camp-watch, and Ha-ha-pah-no and Na-tee-kah were shown to a small tent which had been pitched for them. It was something of a trial to take all that finery away from the admiring blaze of the camp-fire and carry it into the dark hiding-place of that tent, but it had to be done. At all events they could rise early in the morning and comb their hair again and arrange the ribbons and things in some other way.
Na-tee-kah's new world was opening to her wonderfully, and she lay for a long time wide awake, staring into the darkness and trying to imagine pale-face squaws and their ways of doing up their hair and painting themselves and putting on whole heaps of blankets of the most striking colors and patterns.
That was a time of uncommon interest and excitement to the entire Nez Percé hunting village. They had plenty to eat and to drink, and some of them had received presents, and the prospect ahead seemed to brighten a little. By nightfall all the warriors were returned from accompanying the mining party, and it was a time for a grand smoke. Some of them had begged Yellow Pine for "fire-water," but not a drop had been obtained. Instead of it they had been informed,
"We're not jest that kind of white men. There isn't a pint of tangle-foot in this 'ere outfit. Ef I want to murder a feller I'll take a rifle to him and do the job clean. I won't go around the bush and massacre him with a whiskey-jug."
The red men understood perfectly well that there was no "fire-water," but that was all they gathered. Plenty of smoking tobacco they did obtain, and it was a grand addition to the dignity of their "council," if every half-naked brave with a pipe in his mouth had a right to consider himself a councillor. They all smoked, and they all wondered what it was best to do next, and they all said so, and every brave among them regretted that it was out of the question for them to acquire possession of the quadrupeds ridden and driven by Judge Parks and his men. The Big Tongue and a few of the younger braves even went so far as to "talk war," but the wiser heads merely grunted at the suggestions volunteered. The Big Tongue had much to say to the smokers nearest him concerning a pale-face warrior whose scalp was among his own treasures. Ha-ha-pah-no was not there to make any sly remarks as to how he actually obtained such a trophy as that and some others on which his reputation as a warrior mainly rested. They sat up until they had smoked all the wisdom out of several pipes of tobacco to each warrior, but did not seem to be any nearer a conclusion. The camp was under the special charge of One-eye, but that dog was becoming quiet and solemn. His especial master had departed, he knew not whither. All the bones in camp now belonged to him, and he had no time to bury so much as one of them. He was not fond of tobacco, and as soon as the smoking began he walked out of camp to patrol the edge of the woods and to keep all the eye left him on duty against possible intruders. He had no faith in a country which was evidently infested by pale-faces.
If he had known more about that valley and the region into which it led, he would have had an even worse opinion of it. The fact that it contained a large stream of water had already suggested many things to the experienced mind of Long Bear. All such water, he well knew, kept on running, no matter what might be its crooks and turnings. If he and his braves could have followed that stream far enough while they were smoking and talking over plans, they might have reached a place where it turned a corner of the mountains and was joined by another and larger stream. The two in partnership were able to float a canoe. There was no canoe afloat there, but there was something yet more important away on down, a pretty long way, below the fork made by the junction of the two streams. There was a camp occupied by red warriors only, without one squaw to be seen in it, and it was therefore the camp of a "war-party." It was accompanied by a large drove of ponies, horses, and mules, and some of these had saddles and others carried packs. These were signs that the war-party had been successful and that pale-faces had been the sufferers. Every quadruped visible wore an air of being more or less fatigued, in token of having been driven or ridden both fast and far. From this it might have been gathered that these red men, however successful had been their expedition, believed or feared that they were followed by somebody whom they preferred to get away from. All these signs told the exact truth; it was also true that some pains had been taken to discover whether or not the supposed pursuit continued.
At the very hour when One-eye was making the best use he could of the bright moonshine in front of his own camp, and knew nothing at all about this other, a tall man stood in the deep shadow of a pine-tree, miles and miles down stream from the resting-place of the war-party. The bridle of a horse hung over his right arm, but the animal stood as motionless as did his master, and both were intently watching a dark shape that rode nearer and could be seen more and more clearly, and that paused at last upon the river-bank within thirty yards. Just as it did so there came from under the shadow of the pine-tree a flash and a sharp report, and all the upper part of the dark shape on the bank fell suddenly to the earth, uttering a loud, fierce yell.
"Got him!" was shouted from under the pine-tree, and the man walked out, leading his horse, while instantly there could be heard the sound of galloping hoofs beyond him. In a minute or so more a stern, hoarse voice rang out.
"Halt! What is it, Garry?"
"Got him, captain. 'Nother of them 'Paches. He won't carry back no news. Dead as a mackerel. Reckon they can't be far away now."
"We've taken pretty good care of their scouts, anyhow."
"Jest so many the less to fight when we come up with 'em. They'll outnumber us bad enough, I reckon, best we can make of it."
"Back to camp, Garry. Corporal Peters, take the same post, with two men. There may be more of them."
"All right, captain."
There was a little more talking done, but these seemed to be a somewhat quiet set of men. There were six of them besides the captain. They were all dressed in blue, and wore brass buttons and carried short-barrelled carbines and sabres. A good look at them would have recalled to the mind of Two Arrows all the arguments he had ever heard as to the wisdom of keeping the peace with the pale-faces. When they reached the camp, after "changing the guard" at Garry's river-side post, it was easy to see that their entire force consisted of several times as many men of the same sort. Every man was on his feet, wide awake and waiting for orders. One squad of five stood with each man's hand upon the bridle of a saddled horse, ready to mount, just as the first squad must have been, when it heard the warning report of Garry's carbine. A company of United States cavalry, veteran Indian fighters, following a "hot trail," keeps itself wonderfully ready for action. It is not easy to take such men by surprise. Now, however, at the word of command, all was instantly quiet again. The actual meaning of the alarm was rapidly told from man to man, and several remarked:
"Good for Garry! We'll catch 'em yet."
All who had a right to go to sleep, did so as unconcernedly as if they had been in a hotel. On the whole, it looked as if something else than peace were on its way into the valley where One-eye was keeping watch for the smokers. The last man to lie down was the captain, and one of the wide-awake squad nodded at him and said to another,
"If there was forty alarms 'fore sun-up, old Grover'd be the first man to turn out every time."
"Not much reg'lation 'bout him."
"But there's lots of fight."
"He can get more hard work out of men and hosses, and he can do more himself, and he can sleep less, and say less about it all, than any other captain I ever served under."
That, therefore, was the kind of soldiers from whom the Apaches were wisely trying to get away, and Garry's carbine had destroyed their prospect of learning how very near he and his might be. It looked very much as if two days more of hard riding would bring them into a sort of trap, with the mountains before and the cavalry behind. Still, even then, there would be the pass, if they knew where to find it. There also were One-eye and all of his men and Sile Parks and his party; and the wicked old mule, too, with his command, was in the valley somewhere. Only a few days earlier the entire sweep of forest and "open and mountain-side" had been unoccupied by anything more dangerous or more interesting than wild game and the wild animals that fed on it. It is very curious how suddenly immigrants will sometimes pour into a new country if there is a good trail pointing out the way.
The spot chosen by Yellow Pine for the camp of the mining party was by a dancing little brook which came down from the mountain to the right of them, and the path by which they travelled that day had barely kept them outside of the rocky slopes. Some coyotes came prowling around, to yelp over the faint smell of roasted meat that floated out to them from the camp-fires. Once during the night the cry of a wandering cougar came wailing through the silence and was followed by that of a horned owl who had noiselessly flapped near enough to blink his great eyes at the blaze. For all that, it was the loneliest kind of a place, and the hours went by until sunrise without the smallest real disturbance or hint of perils to come.
Judge Parks himself was on the watch in the first gray of dawn, and the camp was dim enough even after there were rosy tints upon the distant mountain summits. He stood gazing at these and leaning upon his rifle, when Yellow Pine walked out to take his customary survey of matters.
"We're going to have a fine day, jedge."
"Splendid weather. Pine, just think of all this magnificent country as it will be when it's settled. Farms, towns, villages, mines, railways, factories—"
"There won't be any game, then, or any red Indians, either."
"There isn't a finer country in all the world. The new time is coming, Pine."
"Of course it is. Our mine's coming first thing. We'll get there 'fore sundown. Wish I knew what else was coming."
"Afraid of anything?"
"Got a curious feeling in my back. Always have it when there's something up. It's as much like the rheumatiz as it is like anything."
"Guess that's what it is, then."
"I dunno 'bout that. I've had all sorts of things happen when I had this 'ere feeling onto me."
"Exactly, Pine. I've had dinner happen to me a good many times just when I had a sort of feeling it was coming. Soon as I got right down hungry I knew it was a sure sign. I say, look at those boys."
"Going a-fishing. I'd call it—Well, it's a good thing for 'em to do. They can't miss bringing in a good string. Sile, see here."
"Halloo!"
"Get back with some for breakfast if you can. We'll be right here till the critters have done feeding. Catch a heap."
"All right," shouted Sile. "He says the water's full of 'em."
"Of course it is."
"Sile," said his father, "don't throw away your time on fly-fishing. Use bait, and pull 'em right in. They'll bite."
"I'm going to spoon for 'em. Can't find any bait."
"Never mind, jedge," said Pine. "I've seen trout in some of these mountain streams jump for a bare hook quick as it tetched the water. There's too many on 'em, and they get the hungriest kind."
"They won't mind much what they jump at, that's sure. I must say I'd like some for breakfast, though."
Yellow Pine and the judge had other matters on hand, and the latter had a short nap to take, after his "watch." The animals had to be cared for, moreover, before any mere human being had a right to be fed.
The first noise that was made in camp brought Na-tee-kah and Ha-ha-pah-no out of their tent, comb and brush in hand. They both made sure of their ribbons and that all was in order before they had a word to say to anybody. It could not be denied that they were a very bright looking and highly ornamented pair, Ha-ha-pah-no being perhaps a little ahead.