Chapter 4 - Page 2

cunning to believe that a woman of the 'pale-faces' is to be found
so far from the settlements, without having a white man's inventions
and comforts at hand."

"If they will carry the tribe of wandering Ishmael to the Rocky
Mountains," said the young bee-hunter, laughing in his vexation with a
sort of bitter merriment, "I may forgive the rascals."

"Paul! Paul!" exclaimed his companion in a tone of reproach, "you
forget all! Think of the dreadful consequences!"

"Ay, it was thinking of what you call consequences, Ellen, that
prevented me from putting the matter, at once, to yonder red-devil,
and making it a real knock-down and drag-out! Old trapper, the sin of
this cowardly business lies on your shoulders! But it is no more than
your daily calling, I reckon, to take men, as well as beasts, in
snares."

"I implore you, Paul, to be calm--to be patient."

"Well, since it is your wish, Ellen," returned the youth, endeavouring
to swallow his spleen, "I will make the trial; though, as you ought to
know, it is part of the religion of a Kentuckian to fret himself a
little at a mischance."

"I fear your friends in the other bottom will not escape the eyes of
the imps!" continued the trapper, as coolly as though he had not heard
a syllable of the intervening discourse. "They scent plunder; and it
would be as hard to drive a hound from his game, as to throw the
varmints from its trail."

"Is there nothing to be done?" asked Ellen, in an imploring manner,
which proved the sincerity of her concern.

"It would be an easy matter to call out, in so loud a voice as to make
old Ishmael dream that the wolves were among his flock," Paul replied;
"I can make myself heard a mile in these open fields, and his camp is
but a short quarter from us."

"And get knocked on the head for your pains," returned the trapper.
"No, no; cunning must match cunning, or the hounds will murder the
whole family."

"Murder! no--no murder. Ishmael loves travel so well, there would be
no harm in his having a look at the other sea, but the old fellow is
in a bad condition to take the long journey! I would try a lock myself
before he should be quite murdered."

"His party is strong in number, and well armed; do you think it will
fight?"

"Look here, old trapper: few men love Ishmael Bush and his seven
sledge-hammer sons less than one Paul Hover; but I scorn to slander
even a Tennessee shotgun. There is as much of the true stand-up
courage among them, as there is in any family that was ever raised in
Kentuck, itself.