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To The West, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 23. Esau Has A Dream |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. ESAU HAS A DREAM I laughed too as I saw the little yellow-faced figure of our Chinese companion of the boat, as he came up with his small bundle swinging from one finger. "Why how did you get up here?" I said. "Indian--chinook come along, walkee, walkee," he said; and he pointed toward the west. "Wantee fire--make blead?" he said laconically; and then without losing a moment, he selected a sheltered spot, collected a quantity of pine-needles and fir-cones, produced a box of matches from somewhere,--I think it was from up his sleeve,--started the fire, nursed it carefully, and as soon as it began to burn freely, ran here and there to collect dry wood, and after building this up round, dragged up bigger pieces, and then added these, making a famous fire in a very short time. Gunson laughed at the Chinaman's busy, officious way, and with us to help him, brought our stores ashore, while the Indians prepared their own camping-place some little distance off. "We may as well make ourselves comfortable for the night," he said. "We shall work all the better to-morrow." "Where floul--make blead?" said the Chinaman, looking up suddenly. "Don't want any. Got plenty of bread." "Don'tee want any. Plenty blead?" said the Chinaman. "Want pot makum boil tea; want bacon--good fi' cook bacon." I was just unpacking the latter, which had been tucked in the kettle safe receptacle, and our new acquaintance's fingers were soon busy. He seized the kettle, went to the spring, rinsed it out, and brought it full to the fire. Then, before I could interfere, he had seized upon the bacon, taken out a long ugly knife, whetted it upon his boot, and began to cut off thin slices, which he laid upon a thin square of iron, whose purpose I had not divined when Gunson unpacked it, bore them to the fire, and stood there ready for a clear place where one side was all aglow with embers. This done, the Chinaman placed one or two branches in more favourable positions for burning, and turned to Gunson again. "Kettle nealy leady. Want tea?" Gunson handed the tin to him, and the little yellow face lightened up as the cover was taken off. "Melican tea? No. Good tea. Ah!" There was a long, eager sniff taken, and then a look was given round. "One, two, thlee," said the little fellow, raising finger after finger as he counted. "One, two, thlee," and he gave the tea a shake in the canister. "Not enough," said Gunson; "we like a good cup." "Hey? like good cup? Yes, plenty tea fo' good cup," and he took off the lid of the tin, and went and squatted down by the kettle, set the tea aside, ready for the boiling of the water, and so brought the bacon over the glowing embers slowly and carefully, using the point of his knife in place of a fork. That tea proved to be excellent, and the bacon so delicious that we felt kindly disposed toward the Chinaman as we ate it; and the more so that as soon as he saw us well started, in place of hanging about to be asked to join, he whetted his knife again, trotted off, and began to collect pine-needles, and cut down boughs of fir and spruce to pack together under the biggest tree for our bed. "Here, what are you doing?" said Gunson. "Hey?" cried the little fellow, trotting up. "Doing! Want mo' bacon--make blead. Blead gone high." "No, no. Sit down and have some tea." "By and by!" said the little fellow. "Cut much bed. Velly black dleckly; no see." He went off, and we heard his knife hacking away again, and the rustling of the boughs, as he laid them neatly together in the big, pine natural tent that was to be our home that night. "Well," said Gunson, "what do you think of real camping out?" "Lovely," said Esau. "Oh! I say!" "What's the matter?" I said. "Gnat sort of thing bit me on the side of the neck. Why, if there ain't another." He gave his face a sharp smack, and I was engaged too, and directly after Gunson was smacking his hands and legs, for a cloud of mosquitoes had found us out, and were increasing in number every moment. "This is intolerable," cried Gunson. "Old friends. Haven't been bitten for years. We shall have to shift our quarters." Just then the Chinaman came up, and took in the situation at a glance. "Skittum," he said, sharply. "I mudjums." Running to the fire, he took hold of the end of a branch, drew it out, gave it a wave to put out the flame, and then held it smoking low down by us on the side where the wind blew, with the result that a thick cloud of aromatic vapour was wafted by us, stinging our eyes a little, but making the vicious little insects turn their attention to the Indians, who started a burning branch as well, after which we could hear our enemies making their sharp, threatening hum all about us, but they rarely ventured to attack us through the smoke. "I say," cried Esau, "I hope there ain't many of these things about. My! how the bites itch." As he spoke he moved out from under the protecting smoke, but a sharp trumpeting hum sent him back directly with his head in the cloud. "Wants a good sharp wind to blow 'em away," he muttered, as he began to rub at the bites viciously, while Gunson turned to the Chinaman and nodded toward the remains of our food. "Have some tea," he said, "and something to eat?" The little fellow nodded and smiled. "All a done?" he said. "Tea velly good?" and filling himself a tin mug from the supply in the kettle, he sat sipping it with his eyes closed. Then helping himself moderately to the remains of the bread and bacon, he rinsed out the kettle and mugs, and set all aside under a big fern. "All leady fo' bleakfass," he said, nodding. "Keep a fi'. Quong mind. Leady fo' bleakfass, mollow. You want?" He looked at Gunson, who shook his head. "You want?" he said again, looking at Esau. "No, I don't want you," replied Esau; and the same question was addressed to me, of course with the same result. "Velly ti'e. Go sleep," said the little fellow; and, selecting a tree about half way between us and the Indians' camp, I saw him, in the fast-fading light, put his bundle down for a pillow, and curl up directly. "Good example," said Gunson. "Let's follow it, and be off in good time." We took his advice; but this time I lay awake for long enough, listening to the murmur of the wind in the pines, and the low, deep bass roar of the river. It had rapidly grown dark, and the fire flickered and flashed, and sent up curls of golden smoke; while on one side there was a bough of a pine-tree with every needle standing out clear and bright against the intense blackness beyond. And as I lay there listening to the heavy breathing of my two companions, I began to think how easy it would be for the little Chinaman to crawl silently up and rob us of our money and valuables; then that there was nothing to prevent the Indians from making their way round among the trees and killing us all. I had read of Indian massacres, and a curious, hot sensation of dread came over me as I looked nervously round, half expecting that my fancies might not be without cause, and that my wakefulness was due to a sense of coming danger. But the various objects dimly seen by the firelight by degrees took their proper form; and I saw that one which I had believed to be an Indian's head was only a tuft of some low growth; that it was a fern and not a crouching enemy just beyond the fire; and the group to my left, a curious shadowy group, consisted of young pines which the falling in and following blaze of the fire made quite plain. I told myself that it was foolish to feel so nervous, and that I was as safe out there in the forest as in some room at home; but myself would not believe it, and kept on conjuring up dangers surrounding us till I felt irritable with my two companions for sleeping so peaceably. The time went on, and I began wondering how Mr John Dempster and those with him were getting on; how long it would be before we should meet--if we ever did meet; and then the end of my journey here became a great trouble to me, as the question rose in a very portentous fashion--what would Uncle Dan, as they familiarly called him, say when I presented myself and said I had come? Those hours--perhaps they only seemed to be hours--passed on very wearily, and I turned and turned again, troubled as I was by a painful, burning itching where I had been bitten, and never once thinking of attributing my wakefulness to the real cause--the mosquitoes. At last, just when I was most miserable, nervous, and low-spirited, I suddenly saw a bright, flashing eye appear over the edge of the black ridge on the other side of the river, and begin peering at me through the pine boughs, so full of peace and beauty that I lay gazing at it, feeling more and more calm as I recalled the times when I had seen that same planet shining so brightly in the dear old home; till at last my leaden eyelids closed, and I slept profoundly, but only to start into wakefulness as some one trampled upon me heavily; and as I leaped up, there close to me came the sounds of heavy blows, of the pine twigs being broken, and loud gaspings and pantings, mingled with heavy trampling, a low hoarse cry, and a heavy fall. My heart stood still, and I was paralysed for a few moments as I stood there in the dark; then the instinct of self-preservation rose strong in me, and I took out and drew the great knife I had bought, and stood there ready to sell my life as dearly as I could, but unwilling to move lest I should indicate to the Indians where they might make their next attack. For I felt convinced that my imaginations had been realised; that the Indians had stolen upon us, and murdered my two companions in their sleep, while I alone was left helpless in that wild place, and not daring to call for help. I suppose all this could not have taken a minute, long as in my agony it seemed to me before a voice close by me said-- "Dean--Gordon! Wake up, lads. A light--a light!" A thrill of joy shot through me as I recognised Gunson's voice, although it was changed by excitement, and panting, just as it sounded to me after his encounter with the big settler; while before I could speak there came an answer to his appeal in the shrill tones of the Chinaman. "Wantee lightee? Yes." Then there was a blaze, and directly after I saw the little fellow bearing a great pine branch which he had dragged out of the fire. "What is it?" I said, eagerly. "I don't know yet, boy. One of the Indians, I think. He struck me with a club, but fortunately it was only on the shoulder, and when I leaped up and struck out he went down. I've got him here. Don't come till we can see. He may sting." The light flashed in under the pine boughs then, and I could see Gunson's back as he knelt down, evidently holding his enemy there by the throat. "Why, hang it!" he cried, drawing back sharply; "it's Dean." "Dean!" I cried. "There must be some one else." "No; only him. He was striking about with--yes, here it is," he continued, picking up a stout piece of pine, one of the branches that had been in the fire till the small twigs were burned off, leaving it as a strong cudgel about two feet long. "He struck me with this, and he was dashing it about among the branches." "He trampled on me too. I thought it was the Indians," I said. "Then it's a false alarm, and I'm afraid I've hurt the poor lad a good deal." But just then Esau sat up, and began rubbing the side of his head. "Where's my stick?" he said. "Oh, you've got it. Have you driven 'em away?" "Driven whom away?" I said. "Injuns. I thought they would. They came at us, and I'd got that stick ready." "Injun allee seepee," said the Chinaman, waving the pine branch to make it blaze. "No; they came and attacked us, and I fought 'em till one of 'em knocked me down and held me on the ground." "Did you see them come?" said Gunson. "Couldn't see 'em because it was so dark; but I sprang up at them, and did the best I could." "Quong fuss wake. No Injun came all 'long. Quong been make fire all light fo' bleakfass." "I tell you they came," cried Esau, angrily. "Look here at my cheek. It's cut, and bleeds. That was one of their knives." "That was my knuckles, my lad," said Gunson, "after you had hit me with this cudgel." "What?" cried Esau. "Why, Esau, you were dreaming of Indians, and got up. You stamped on me." "Oh, come, if you won't believe it's of no use for me to talk," cried Esau, angrily. "Not a bit, so lie down again and go to sleep." "Yes; allee go seep," said the little Chinaman. "No Injun. Allee seep." "Take away that branch, or you'll set this tree on fire," said Gunson. "Then it's a false alarm. Too much supper, I suppose." "I wasn't asleep," said Esau, surlily. "Don't be stubborn," I cried, angrily. "Lie down." "Here, I ain't your dog, Mr Gordon," said Esau, sourly. "I did all I could to fight for you both." "Yes, and jumped on your companion, and nearly broke my collar-bone." "Well, you've cut my cheek. Why, I shall have a black eye to-morrow." "I think you and I may as well shake hands about that," said Gunson. "There, good-night." As he lay down once more, and the fire flashed up consequent upon the little Chinaman throwing back the branch, Esau turned to me. "I say," he whispered, "was I really dreaming?" "No doubt about it." "And walked in my sleep?" "Yes, and fought in your sleep." "But it was so real. I could see their grinning teeth and rolling eyes, and every one had got a knife in one hand and a chopper in the other as they sprang at me." "That proves it, Esau," I said. "How could you see their knives, and eyes, and teeth here in this darkness! Why, you can't see my face, not even your own hands, and yet the fire's brighter than it was before." "Well, that is rum," cried Esau, as if to himself. "I saw 'em all as plain as could be, and they shouted their war-cry." "War!--gammon!" said Gunson, crossly. "Lie down, you two fellows, and go to sleep. He was dreaming, Gordon. Don't listen to his cock-and-bull nonsense." "All right," I said. "Good-night." "Good-night." "Good-night, Esau." "Good-night. But dreaming! Well, of all! And they were as plain as could be, and had got feathers in their heads." "Yes, blue ones," I said, grumpily. "And look here, Esau, if you're going to dance a war-dance on my chest again, please to take off your boots." Esau chuckled, and the last thing I heard as I dropped asleep again was Esau muttering to himself-- "Asleep!--dreaming! Well, of all!" _ |
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