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Updated: June 6, 2025
Redhand was armed with a rifle an old and trusty weapon that had been the means of saving his own life and the lives of comrades in many a doubtful encounter with beast and with man. Kneeling down, he took a rapid aim and fired. The bullet sped true. It entered the back of the bear's head, and the lifeless carcass floated down the stream.
"There" said the Antiquary to Sir Arthur "we won't dispute but there you see the gratitude of the poor people naturally turns to the civil virtues of your family. You don't hear them talk of Redhand, or Hell-in-Harness. For me, I must say, Odi accipitrem qui semper vivit in armis so let us eat and drink in peace, and be joyful, Sir Knight."
Redhand cast upon the luckless man one glance of horror, and, uttering the words, "Run for your life!" dashed down the bank, and coursed along the bottom like a hare. At the same moment that terrific yell, which has so often chilled the heart's blood of men and women in those western wilds, rang through the forest, telling that they were discovered, and that the Indians were in pursuit.
Redhand silently came to the same conclusion, though he felt uneasy and blamed himself for allowing the ardour of the boy to get the better of him. "March is a bold fellow," observed Bertram, who walked immediately behind Bounce, hauling on the line like the rest.
A second or two more, and he was near enough to be heard uttering the word "buffaloes" in a hoarse whisper. "Ho! boy, wot is't?" cried Bounce in an equally hoarse whisper. "Ba buffaloes, hah! buffaloes," cried Gibault, panting violently as he came up; "Where be de leetle gun? He! Monsieur Bertram, out vid it." "Where saw ye them?" asked Redhand, seizing the two pistols, and examining the priming.
"Ver' soon after dat, dey all come to de bank of river forty of 'em, I tink draggin' our comerades vid dem, all tied by de wrist Redhand, an' Big Valler, an' March, an' Hawksving, an' poor Monsieur Bertram. Mais, dat Monsieur Bertram, be most 'straordinary man! He terriblement frightened for every leetle ting, but him not fright von bit for big ting!
"I calc'late," observed Waller in a low voice, at the same time touching his forehead and looking mysterious; "I calc'late, he's noncombobble-fusticated." "Perhaps," said Redhand with a quiet laugh. "Whatever he is, it's bad manners to stand starin' at him," said Redhand, "so you'd better go and pick up yer guns and things, while Bounce and I skin this feller and cut off his claws."
They were our friends Redhand, Bounce, Big Waller, Gibault, Hawkswing, and Bertram. It is observable among men who travel long in company together in a wild country, that, when they return again to civilised, or to semi-civilised life, they feel a strong inclination to draw closer together, either from the force of habit, or sympathy, or both.
He did not check his slashing pace until within four or five bounds of the party. Reining up so violently that he tore up the turf for a couple of yards under his horse's heels, he looked at the trappers with a grave, almost fierce expression, for a second or two. "You come from the Mountain Fort?" he said. "Yes," replied Redhand. "All right there?" "All right.
"It ain't a story," said Redhand; "nor I don't think it can even be called an anecdote. Well, this old chap that once trapped beaver in them parts came down to Pine Point settlement one year with a load o' furs, sold 'em all off, took a ragin' fever, and died." Redhand paused, and gazed dreamily at the ground.
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