Here are therefore four parties within sound of a cannon, not one of whom can trust the other.
All which makes movement a little difficult, in a district where covers are far from plenty.
But we are three well-armed, and I think I may see three stout-hearted men—”
“Four,” interrupted Paul.
“Anan,” said the old man, looking up simply at his companion.
“Four,” repeated the bee-hunter, pointing to the naturalist.
“Every army has its hangers-on and idlers,” rejoined the blunt border-man. “Friend, it will be necessary to slaughter this ass.”
“To slay Asinus! such a deed would be an act of supererogatory cruelty.”
“I know nothing of your words, which hide their meaning in sound; but that is cruel which sacrifices a Christian to a brute.
This is what I call the reason of mercy.
It would be just as safe to blow a trumpet, as to let the animal raise his voice again, inasmuch as it would prove a manifest challenge to the Siouxes.”
“I will answer for the discretion of Asinus, who seldom speaks without a reason.”
“They say a man can be known by the company he keeps,” retorted the old man, “and why not a brute?
I once made a forced march, and went through a great deal of jeopardy, with a companion who never opened his mouth but to sing; and trouble enough and great concern of mind did the fellow give me.
It was in that very business with your grand’ther, captain.
But then he had a human throat, and well did he know how to use it, on occasion, though he didn’t always stop to regard the time and seasons fit for such outcries.
Ah’s me! if I was now, as I was then, it wouldn’t be a band of thieving Siouxes that should easily drive me from such a lodgment as this!
But what signifies boasting, when sight and strength are both failing.
The warrior, that the Delawares once saw fit to call after the Hawk, for the goodness of his eyes, would now be better termed the Mole!
In my judgment, therefore, it will be well to slay the brute.”
“There’s argument and good logic in it,” said Paul; “music is music, and it’s always noisy, whether it comes from a fiddle or a jackass.
Therefore I agree with the old man, and say, Kill the beast.”
“Friends,” said the naturalist, looking with a sorrowful eye from one to another of his bloodily disposed companions, “slay not Asinus; he is a specimen of his kind, of whom much good and little evil can be said.
Hardy and docile for his genus; abstemious and patient, even for his humble species.
We have journeyed much together, and his death would grieve me.
How would it trouble thy spirit, venerable venator, to separate, in such an untimely manner, from your faithful hound?”
“The animal shall not die,” said the old man, suddenly clearing his throat, in a manner that proved he felt the force of the appeal; “but his voice must be smothered.
Bind his jaws with the halter, and then I think we may trust the rest to Providence.”
With this double security for the discretion of Asinus, for Paul instantly bound the muzzle of the ass in the manner required, the trapper seemed content. After which he proceeded to the margin of the thicket to reconnoitre.
The uproar, which attended the passage of the herd, was now gone, or rather it was heard rolling along the prairie, at the distance of a mile.
The clouds of dust were already blown away by the wind, and a clear range was left to the eye, in that place where ten minutes before there existed a scene of so much wildness and confusion.
The Siouxes had completed their conquest, and, apparently satisfied with this addition to the numerous previous captures they had made, they now seemed content to let the remainder of the herd escape.
A dozen remained around the carcass, over which a few buzzards were balancing themselves with steady wings and greedy eyes, while the rest were riding about, in quest of such further booty as might come in their way, on the trail of so vast a drove.
The trapper measured the proportions, and scanned the equipments of such individuals as drew nearer to the side of the thicket, with careful eyes.
At length he pointed out one among them, to Middleton, as Weucha.
“Now, know we not only who they are, but their errand,” the old man continued, deliberately shaking his head. “They have lost the trail of the squatter, and are on its hunt.
These buffaloes have crossed their path, and in chasing the animals, bad luck has led them in open sight of the hill on which the brood of Ishmael have harboured.
Do you see yon birds watching for the offals of the beast they have killed?
Therein is a moral, which teaches the manner of a prairie life.
A band of Pawnees are outlying for these very Siouxes, as you see the buzzards looking down for their food, and it behoves us, as Christian men who have so much at stake, to look down upon them both.
Ha! what brings yonder two skirting reptiles to a stand?
As you live, they have found the place where the miserable son of the squatter met his death!”
The old man was not mistaken.
Weucha, and a savage who accompanied him, had reached that spot, which has already been mentioned as furnishing the frightful evidences of violence and bloodshed.
There they sat on their horses, examining the well-known signs, with the intelligence that distinguishes the habits of Indians.
Their scrutiny was long, and apparently not without distrust.
At length they raised a cry, that was scarcely less piteous and startling than that which the hounds had before made over the same fatal signs, and which did not fail to draw the whole band immediately around them, as the fell bark of the jackal is said to gather his comrades to the chase.
CHAPTER XX
Welcome, ancient Pistol.
—Shakspeare.