Indians of North America -- Juvenile fiction; Pioneers -- West (U.S.) -- Juvenile fiction; Slavery -- Juvenile fiction
As soon as we had taken a hasty breakfast, the Dominie and I set off;
Martin Prentis and Dio accompanying us a short distance. It was
intended that they should return if no enemies were discovered, so that
the horses and cattle might be led down to the river without delay. As
we made our way along, we examined every bush or rock which might
conceal a foe, but minute as was our search we could, discover no one.
We therefore sent back our companions, saying that we were sure there
could be no risk in letting the thirsty animals go down to the river.
As there were only two of us, we had now to proceed more cautiously. It
thus took us a considerable time to cover but a small space of ground.
As the sun was still low, many parts of the forest were shrouded in
gloom, though here and there the light penetrated amid the trunks of the
trees and enabled us to see far ahead. We kept ourselves concealed as
we advanced, waiting occasionally to listen, but no sounds reached our
ears. If we spoke, it was in low whispers, when we were close together.
"I am pretty well satisfied that no Indians are here," observed Mr
Tidey, "still we must be prudent, and run no unnecessary risk."
Again we advanced, when suddenly he made a sign for me to stop. A
rustling in the brushwood had reached his ear. I heard it also; it came
from a spot some way ahead. Directly before us appeared a huge tree
which had been partially uprooted, the trunk being at a sharp angle with
the ground, while the boughs resting against those of its neighbours had
prevented it from falling prostrate. We crept towards it, and finding
that I could easily clamber up I did so, followed by Mr Tidey. We
could thus see much further ahead than from the ground below. We had
been there about a minute, the rustling sound still continuing.
"If the Indians are making their way through the wood, they cannot
suppose that anyone is near, or they would be more cautious," I
observed.
"No Indians would make a noise like that," whispered Mr Tidey; "see!"
Just then a wild boar broke through the brushwood, making its way among
the tall grass, which he dug up with his tusks as if in search of roots.
Presently he lay down to enjoy at his ease the repast he had thus
procured. Instinctively I raised my rifle to my shoulder, when my
companion made a sign.
"Don't fire," he said; "for should the Indians be in the neighbourhood,
the sound will attract them towards us."
"But the boar will escape, and we shall lose the pork, which will be so
acceptable in camp," I remarked.
"Better to lose the pork than be scalped," answered the Dominie, though
he gazed at the boar with a wistful eye.
We were still undecided what to do, when we caught sight of another
large animal creeping along from an opposite direction towards the boar.
So stealthily did it advance, that the boar appeared to be unconscious
of its approach.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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