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Updated: June 24, 2025
The outfit would then have ample time in which to reach the shallows of Peel River, whence the final stage of the journey to Leaping Horse would be made overland on the early winter trail. Peigan Charley joined them at the camp. The man came up with that curiously silent, almost furtive gait, which no prairie Indian, however civilized, ever quite loses.
He rose from his bed, moved down to the doorway and stood gazing out. His gaze encountered a group of men clustered together at a short distance from the hut. He recognized Peigan Charley. He recognized Abe Dodds, lean and silent. He recognized one or two of his own fighting men. But there were others he did not recognize.
He could not leave the Fort for the adventure of Bell River till he had put beyond all doubt the hopes he had built on the love that had become the whole meaning of earthly happiness to him. Bill understood this. So he refrained from urging, and checked the impatient grumbling of Peigan Charley without much regard for the scout's feelings.
But its way would be shorter, and it would miss Fort Mowbray altogether, and take up its quarters at the headwaters of Snake River, to await the coming of the leaders. Abe and Saunders would conduct this expedition, while Kars and Bill traveled via Fort Mowbray, with Peigan Charley, and an outfit of packs and packmen such as it was their habit to journey with.
In a moment he discovered another figure in the shadowy darkness, fighting in a similar fashion, and he knew by the crude, disjointed oaths which were hurled with each blow, so full of a venomous hate, that Peigan Charley had somehow come to his support. His heart warmed, and his onslaught increased in its bitter ferocity. He was holding. Just holding the rush, and that was all.
After a short pause he continued, "The chief is wrong when he says there are Pale-faces in the Peigan camp. The Peigans are not at war with the Pale-faces; neither have they seen any on their march. The camp is open. Let the Pale-faces look round and see that what we say is true." The chief waved his hand towards his warriors as he concluded, as if to say, "Search amongst them.
It was an outfit to inspire ridicule, were it not for the seriousness lying behind the human passions governing the situation. Kars understood. Those with him understood. Peigan Charley alone lacked appreciation. He regretted the old man's coming under a truce. He even more regretted his departure whole. But then Peigan Charley was a savage, and would never be otherwise.
Then came Kars' fierce tones. "Push your hands up, blast you!" Peigan Charley's arm was crooked about the trader's neck. There was no mercy in his purpose. The fierce joy of the moment was intoxicating him. The knife. He yearned, with savage lust, to drive it deep into the fat body struggling under his hold. But Murray understood. One hand went up.
At length Cameron stood up, and said to his men in a quiet tone, "Be ready, lads, for instant action; when I give the word `Up, spring to your feet and cock your guns, but don't fire a shot till you get the word." He then stepped forward and said "The Peigan warriors are double-tongued; they know that they have hid the Pale-face prisoners.
His belly was full to the brim of rough food, and he was awaiting the psychological moment when the orders of his boss must be carried out. Peigan Charley was nothing if not thorough in all he undertook. It mattered very little to him if he were asked to cut an Indian's throat, or if he were told by Kars to attend Sunday-school. He would do as his "boss" said.
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