The Wild Man of the West - Robert Michael Ballantyne (korean ebook reader .txt) 📗

questions about what don't consarn ye."

"Nay, friend, I meant no offence," replied March. "I've no desire to pry into any man's secrets. Nevertheless, it's but natural to want to know how to address a man when ye converse with him."

"True, true," replied the other, somewhat mollified. "Call me Dick; it's as good a name as any, and better than my own."

There was a slight touch of bitterness in the tone in which this was said, as the man turned on his heel to quit the cave.

"Stay," cried March, "you only give me one name, friend, so I'll do the same by you. My name's March--there, now you may march about your business."

Dick smiled and said, "Well, March, I'll be with ye again, and have a look at your sore bones, in two minutes."

When he was gone March, for the first time since his accident, bethought him of his comrades. Since recovering from the state of insensibility into which his fall had thrown him, his mind had been so absorbed by the strange events that had been presented to him in such rapid succession, as well as with the pain that racked his head and limbs, that he had had no time to think about them. But, now that he was left in that quiet place alone, the whole circumstances of the recent pursuit and flight rushed suddenly upon him, and his mind was filled with anxious forebodings as to the fate of his comrades.

"Oh! I'm glad you've come back," he cried, as Dick re-entered the cave; "I quite forgot my comrades--shame on me! but my miserable head has got such a smash, that a'most everything's bin drove out of it."

"Time enough to speak o' them after we've seen to your bones," said Dick.

"Nay, but--"

"_After_," said Dick in a tone that was not to be gainsaid.

March submitted with a sigh, and his eccentric host proceeded to manipulate and punch him in a way that might perhaps have been highly necessary, but was by no means agreeable. After a few minutes he pronounced his patient all right, only a little bruised! Having said which, he proceeded to prepare some food, and said to March that he might now speak about his comrades.

At first he seemed to pay little attention to the youth's hasty narrative; but on hearing that the Indians were hastening to attack the Mountain Fort, he sprang up, and asked a few questions eagerly. It was evident that the news troubled him deeply.

Taking one or two hasty strides up and down the cavern, and paying no attention to the roasting meat, which he seemed to have utterly forgotten, the Wild Man of the West muttered angrily to himself, and a slight dash of that tiger-like flash, which had gone so far to earn him his title, lighted up his blue eyes, insomuch that March Marston looked at him in amazement not unmingled with awe. Thoughts of the Wild Man of the West once more occurred to him; but in his former cogitations on that subject he had so thoroughly discarded the idea of this kind, blue-eyed hunter being that far-famed and ferocious individual, that his thoughts only took the form of the mental question, "I wonder if the Wild Man o' the West could beat such a fellow as that at a fair stand-up fight?" So powerfully did this thought affect him, that he could not refrain from exclaiming--

"I say, Dick, did you ever hear of the Wild Man of the West?"

Dick was so much tickled by the question that his angry mood vanished, and, turning towards his guest with a smile, while his blue eyes seemed milder than they ever had appeared before, he said--

"Yes, lad, I've heard of him."

"Have you seen him?" continued March eagerly.

"I have, many a time."

"What is he like?"

"He's like me," replied Dick with another smile, the softness of which would have driven March to an immeasurable distance from the truth, had he ever been near it.

"Like _you_! Oh, I suppose you mean he's something about your size. Well, I don't wonder at that, for you're an uncommonly big fellow, Dick; but I fancy his appearance is very different."

"Well, no. He's got light hair and blue eyes, like me."

This was a poser to March. It was so totally subversive of all his preconceived ideas, that it reduced him for some moments to silence.

"Isn't he hairy all over, like a fox, and very ugly?" inquired March, recovering from his surprise.

This was a poser, in turn, to the Wild Man. To be called upon suddenly to pronounce an opinion on his own looks was embarrassing, to say the least of it.

"He's not exactly hairy all over," said Dick after a moment's thought, "though it can't be denied he's got plenty of hair on his head and chin--like me. As for his looks, lad, it ain't easy to say whether he's ugly or pritty, for men don't agree on sich pints, d'ye see?"

"Do sit down beside me, Dick, and tell me about this Wild Man," said March earnestly. "You can't fancy how anxious I am to see him. I've come here for that very purpose. No doubt I've come to shoot and trap, too, but chiefly to see the Wild Man o' the West. An' isn't it provokin'? I might have seen him some weeks agone, if I hadn't bin stunned with a fall jist as he came jumpin' into the middle o' us like a clap o' thunder--"

"What, lad," interrupted Dick, "was it _you_ that I--"

Just at this moment Dick was seized with a very violent fit of coughing, which, coming as it did from such a capacious chest and so powerful a pair of lungs, caused the roof of the cavern to reverberate with what might have been mistaken, outside, for a species of miniature artillery.

"You've caught cold," suggested March, who gazed in unspeakable admiration at the magnificent locks and beard of this remarkable man, as they shook with the violence of his exertion.

"I _never_ had a cold," replied Dick, becoming quiet again; "there's other things as cause a man for to cough, now and agin', besides colds."

"True," rejoined March; "but you were sayin' somethin'--do you know of the fight I was speakin' of?"

"Know of it--ay, that do I."

"Why, how did you happen to hear of it?"

"It's wonderful, lad, how I comes to know about things in this part o' the country. I know everything the Wild Man does. He can't move without my bein' on his track d'rectly. In fact, I follers him like his shadow--leastwise, his shadow follers me."

"Indeed," exclaimed March, whose interest in Dick became suddenly tenfold more deep on learning this. "But why do you follow him about in this fashion? Does he like your company, or do you only follow him on the sly, and keep out of sight? Explain yourself, Dick--you puzzle me."

"I can't explain just now, lad," said Dick, rising abruptly. "You forget that your comrades may be in a fix before now wi' them blackguard redskins. I must go an' help them. It's but right that white men should lend one another a helpin' hand in these regions, where the Injuns have it almost all their own way."

"But the Mountain Fort is far away from this, an' I'm afraid you'll never be able to get there in time," said March with an anxious expression of countenance.

"I'll try," returned Dick. "Anyhow, I'll send the Wild Man o' the West to help them," he added with a peculiar smile. "Now, boy, listen, I must not waste more time in idle talk. I shall leave you here under the charge of my little girl--"

"Your little girl!" echoed March in surprise.

"Ay, she ought to have been in before now," continued Dick, without noticing the interruption, "an' I would like to ha' told her who ye are, and how I come by ye, an' what to do till I come back. But I can't wait; time's precious as gold just now; so I'll tell ye what to say to her when she--"

At that moment a light footstep was heard in the outer cavern. The Wild Man sprang up on hearing it, and strode hastily through the natural doorway, leaving March to listen, in a state of the utmost bewilderment, to a silvery musical voice, which held rapid converse with his strange host.

Presently Dick returned, followed by a--_vision in leather_! the sight of which struck March Marston dumb, and rendered him for a few moments as totally incapable of moving hand, tongue, or foot, as if he had been bewitched--which, in a sense, he was.

"This is the little girl I spoke of t'ye," said Dick looking at March, and patting the girl on her soft cheek with a hand that might have passed for a small shoulder of mutton. "She'll take good care of ye, March. I've told her what to do; but she don't need to be told. Now, see ye don't do yerself a mischief, lad, till I come back. It won't be long--a day or two, mayhap, more or less; but ye'll take that time to mend; you're worse battered than ye think of--so, good-day."

While the Wild Man was ejaculating these sentences abruptly, he was striding about the cave with what may be styled _enormous_ vigour, picking up and buckling on his weapons of war. He seized a double-edged sword of gigantic proportions, and buckled it to his waist; but March saw it not. He pulled on the scalp-fringed coat of a Blackfoot chief, with leggings to match; but March knew it not. He slung a powder-horn and bullet-pouch round his shoulders, stuck a knife and tomahawk into his belt, and grasped a long rifle which stood in a corner; and, in doing all this, he made such a tremendous clatter, and displayed such wonderful activity, and grew so much fiercer to look at in every stage of the process, that March would certainly have recurred to the idea of the Wild Man, had he been in his ordinary state of mind; but he was _not_ in that happy condition. March knew nothing about it whatever!

Before going, Dick stooped and kissed the "vision" on the cheek. March saw that! It recalled him for a moment and made him aware of the disappearance of his host, and of the loud clattering sounds of his charger's hoofs, as he led him at a rapid walk across the outer cave. March even heard the general clatter of all his accoutrements, as he vaulted into the saddle at one bound, and went down that terrible rocky way at a breakneck gallop that would have caused him (March) in other circumstances to shudder. But he did _not_ shudder. He was but faintly aware of these things. His intellect was overturned; his whole soul was captivated; his imagination, his perceptions, his conceptions--all his faculties and capacities were utterly overwhelmed and absorbed by that wonderful _vision in leather_!


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.


THE VISION IN LEATHER.

It is all very well for men of the world, men of fashion, men who pride themselves on being highly civilised and peculiarly refined, to fancy that