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Updated: June 5, 2025
If they were set free I don't suppose they'd know what to do with themselves." "They'd starve," said Barringford. "But to come back to where we started from," went on Dave. "There is a difference between being a white man's slave and being an Indian captive. The whites don't kill their slaves or torture them." "They torture some of 'em," replied Henry.
Occasionally one or the other would raise a yell, but to these cries no answer was returned. "Might as well give it up, Dave, onless ye want to ride around all night," said Barringford at last. He had hardly spoken when Dave drew up his horse. "Hark, Sam! what is that?" The old frontiersman listened attentively for several minutes. "Wolves, onless I miss my guess," he replied presently.
"Puts me in mind of the time I went out to the trading-post with you," said Dave to Sam Barringford, as the two rode along side by side, "Don't you remember what a time we had getting through, and how I fell into the river and was afraid of being captured by the Indians?" "Yes, lad, I remember it well," answered the old frontiersman.
The brief stop made by Dave and Barringford had allowed Henry to increase his lead until now he was almost out of sight of those behind him. The prairie was growing rougher, and soon the buffaloes reached a small creek, bordered in spots with trees and brushwood. Into the creek they plunged boldly and scrambled up the opposite bank.
He dressed his deer and said he would take the skin to the trading-post, and also such a part of the meat as he could readily carry. "He probably means to turn over a new leaf," said Henry, after Bergerac had departed. "I hope he does." "He seemed to be mighty anxious to see your uncle," put in Barringford. "Well, if he can save Uncle James from serious trouble, I hope he does it."
"I brought down Jacques Valette," continued Mr. Morris. "But I don't believe I killed him." "I hit Bevoir in the arm," came from Barringford. "He'll remember it a while, I'll warrant." "It was all Pontiac's fault," came from Dave. "I think the authorities ought to bring him to book for it." "Perhaps they will," answered James Morris seriously.
"There is a slight difference in their looks," said Dave, after a close survey of the two tiny faces. "One has a rounder chin than the other and a flatter nose." "Dave is right," answered his aunt. "But the difference is not very great." "Will you keep the babies for the present?" questioned Sam Barringford. "I don't know what to do with 'em, I'm sartin." "To be sure we will," said Mrs. Morris.
"The magicians have brought forth powder by magic." "And so can Pontiac!" shouted Barringford, who had moved to one corner of the chamber. "Reckon this is a bad place fer a torch," and he held back the flame, "What have you discovered now, Sam?" "Five half-kegs o' powder."
"He's comin' around!" shouted Barringford, in a strangely unnatural voice. "Praise Heaven for it!" But there was still much to do before Dave could breath with any kind of regularity, and they continued to rub him and slap him, while Barringford forced him to gulp down a small quantity of stimulants brought along in case of emergency.
Barringford came after him, and both crossed the stream and mounted the bank opposite. Here the snow was deep and both went into it headfirst, getting a liberal dose down their sleeves and collars. "Oh, Columbus! but there's no fun in this!" cried Dave, as he brushed himself off. "Ugh! but that snow down my backbone isn't a bit pleasant!" "Don't waste time hyer!" cried Barringford almost roughly.
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