The Dog Crusoe and his Master | Page 9

for her inspection, while he rattled off an animated and somewhat disjointed account of the match.
"Deary me! now that was good; that was cliver. But what's that scraping at the door?"
"Oh! that's Fan; I forgot her. Here! here! Fan! Come in, good dog," he cried rising and opening the door.
Fan entered and stopped short, evidently uncomfortable.
"My boy, what do ye with the major's dog?"
"Won her too, mother!"
"Won her, my son?"
"Ay, won her, and the pup too; see, here it is!" and he plucked Crusoe from his bosom.
Crusoe, having found his position to be one of great comfort, had fallen into a profound slumber, and on being thus unceremoniously awakened, he gave forth a yelp of discontent that brought Fan in a state of frantic sympathy to his side.
"There you are, Fan, take it to a corner and make yourself at home. Ay, that's right, mother, give her somethin' to eat; she's hungry, I know by the look o' her eye."
"Deary me, Dick," said Mrs Varley, who now proceeded to spread the youth's mid-day meal before him, "did ye drive the nail three times?"
"No, only once, and that not parfetly. Brought 'em all down at one shot--rifle, Fan, an' pup!"
"Well, well, now that was cliver; but--" Here the old woman paused and looked grave.
"But what, mother?"
"You'll be wantin' to go off to the mountains now, I fear me, boy."
"Wantin' now!" exclaimed the youth earnestly; "I'm always wantin'. I've bin wantin' ever since I could walk; but I won't go till you let me, mother, that I won't!" And he struck the table with his fist so forcibly that the platters rung again.
"You're a good boy, Dick; but you're too young yit to ventur' among the Red-skins."
"An' yit, if I don't ventur' young, I'd better not ventur' at all. You know, mother dear, I don't want to leave you; but I was born to be a hunter, and everybody in them parts is a hunter, and I can't hunt in the kitchen you know, mother!"
At this point the conversation was interrupted by a sound that caused young Varley to spring up and seize his rifle, and Fan to show her teeth and growl.
"Hist! mother; that's like horses' hoofs," he whispered, opening the door and gazing intently in the direction whence the sound came.
Louder and louder it came, until an opening in the forest showed the advancing cavalcade to be a party of white men. In another moment they were in full view--a band of about thirty horsemen, clad in the leathern costume, and armed with the long rifle of the far west. Some wore portions of the gaudy Indian dress which gave to them a brilliant, dashing look. They came on straight for the block-house, and saluted the Varleys with a jovial cheer as they swept past at full speed. Dick returned the cheer with compound interest, and calling out, "They're trappers, mother, I'll be back in an hour," bounded off like a deer through the woods, taking a short cut in order to reach the block-house before them. He succeeded, for, just as he arrived at the house, the cavalcade wheeled round the bend in the river, dashed up the slope, and came to a sudden halt on the green. Vaulting from their foaming steeds they tied them to the stockades of the little fortress, which they entered in a body.
Hot haste was in every motion of these men. They were trappers, they said, on their way to the Rocky Mountains to hunt and trade furs. But one of their number had been treacherously murdered and scalped by a Pawnee chief, and they resolved to revenge his death by an attack on one of the Pawnee villages. They would teach these "red reptiles" to respect white men, they would, come of it what might; and they had turned aside here to procure an additional supply of powder and lead.
In vain did the major endeavour to dissuade these reckless men from their purpose. They scoffed at the idea of returning good for evil, and insisted on being supplied. The log hut was a store as well as a place of defence, and as they offered to pay for it there was no refusing their request--at least so the major thought. The ammunition was therefore given to them, and in half an hour they were away again at full gallop over the plains on their mission of vengeance. "Vengeance is Mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." But these men knew not what God said, because they never read His Word, and did not own His sway.
Young Varley's enthusiasm was considerably damped when he learned the errand on which the trappers were bent. From that time forward he gave up all desire to visit the mountains in company with such men, but he