Part 4 (1/2)

Norman was considerably put out. ”I have no notion that the girls should be kept prisoners on account of an impudent Redskin,” he exclaimed. ”I will go out to the tents, and advise the chief and his party, now that they have transacted their business, to take themselves off.”

”No, no, Norman, stay quiet, my lad,” answered his father; ”they'll not go faster for being ordered off; and it is just possible that the young chief may take it into his head to do you some harm. It will be a poor satisfaction to punish him afterwards.”

”I am not afraid of him, or of any other savage like him,” said Norman.

”Well, well, stay within the fort until I give you leave to go out,”

said his father. ”Young blood quickly gets up, and a quarrel may ensue, which it is better to avoid.”

Norman promised to obey; and, to vent his feelings by himself, went up to the platform, which was dignified by being called the ramparts, that he might take a look cut, and ascertain if there were any signs of moving in the camp of the Blackfeet. He watched in vain, though he made out in the far distance two figures on the prairie going in a south-westerly direction. The sun was nearly setting when he returned to the house. He found his mother and Sybil engaged in their usual work.

”It is too provoking to have that fellow stopping out there, as if he were laying siege to the fort. My father won't allow me to go out, but I must get some one to inquire the chief's intentions. It is absurd in him to suppose that Sybil would ever be induced to marry him. He can have no object in remaining, as his admiration cannot be very deep, for he has only seen her once for a few minutes.”

”I am not quite certain about that,” remarked Sybil; ”I think that he has seen me more than once. Don't you remember, when we were out riding, meeting with an Indian, whom you said was one of the Blackfeet, and who made Effie and me a long speech, though as we did not understand a word he said, we could not reply, but you talked to him, and laughed in his face. I thought that I recognised his features, though he was dressed and painted in so different a way that I may have been mistaken.”

”I remember perfectly, but it never struck me that he was Mysticoose, though I cannot positively say that he was not,” answered Norman. ”I don't exactly remember what he said, but I fancy that he was praising the pale-faces generally, and expressing his desire to be their friend.”

”Well, we cannot account for the wayward fancies of the Red men,”

observed Mrs Mackintosh; ”but your father is anxious to retain their friends.h.i.+p, and would be unwilling to do anything to offend them. You must have patience; and I dare say in a day or two we shall be rid of our visitors.”

”I am very sorry to have been the cause of the annoyance; and had I dreamed of the result, I would have kept out of the way of the chief,”

said Sybil, half laughing.

”Well, if the Blackfeet don't go to-morrow, something must be done to make them move off,” exclaimed Hector.

Captain Mackintosh, though he did not say so, was really as much annoyed as his son.

No buffalo were to be seen in the neighbourhood, and it was evident, therefore, that the Indians did not remain for the sake of hunting.

Among the men in the fort was an experienced _voyageur_ and trapper, Le Brun by name, well versed in all Indian ways.

The captain having consulted him, he volunteered to go out at night, and try to ascertain what the Indians were about.

”We must never trust those Redskins,” he observed; ”they don't remain here without an object.”

His offer was accepted. Soon after dark he lowered himself down at the rear of the fort, and crept round, making a wide circuit, so that, should any of the Blackfeet be on the watch, he might escape observation. Captain Mackintosh directed a man to wait with a rope, to help him in again on the same side.

A careful look-out was kept during his absence round the fort. Some time having pa.s.sed, and Le Brun not making his appearance, Captain Mackintosh began to fear that he had been discovered by the Indians, and captured. They would scarcely, however, he thought, venture to put him to death. Two hours or more went by; still he did not return. The Captain, therefore, began to consider whether it would be expedient to send out another man to try and ascertain what had happened. He was turning over in his mind who he should employ in this somewhat dangerous service, when Norman came up to him.

”Let me go,” he said; ”I am sure that I can get up to the camp without being discovered, and I will be exceedingly cautious. It is not, indeed, likely that the Indians will be on the watch; for, should they have caught Le Brun, they will not suppose that we shall send another person to look for him. I will only get near enough to hear what they are saying, and creep away again as noiselessly as a lynx.”

”No, no, Norman; I am convinced of your courage and discretion, but I cannot allow you to risk your life for such an object,” said his father.

”But I run no risk of losing my life,” answered Norman; ”they would not venture to kill me.”

”They would not if they knew who you were; but finding a spy in their neighbourhood, they might shoot you down without inquiry,” observed Captain Mackintosh.

”I don't want to be shot,” said Norman; ”depend upon it, I'll take good care to avoid that.”

At length, Captain Mackintosh, reflecting that he could not send any one else on an expedition to the dangers of which he was unwilling to expose his own son, gave permission, charging Norman to approach the camp with the greatest possible caution, and only to do so provided he could hear the voices of the Indians, and had reason to believe that they were sitting in council.