I started, and looked--a dark half--naked figure, with an enormous cap
of the shaggy skin of some wild creature, was kneeling on one knee, on
the very pinnacle with a carabine resting across his thigh. I noticed
our guide tremble from head to foot, but he did not speak.
"Vous avez des arms?" said Bang, as he continued with great fluency, but
little grammar; "ayez le bonte de cockez votre pistolettes?"
The man gave no answer. We heard the click of the carabine lock.
"Zounds!" said Aaron, with his usual energy when excited, "if you won't
use them, give them to me;" and forthwith he snatched both pistols from
our guide's holsters. "Now, Tom, get on. Shove t'other blackie a--head
of you, Pegtop, will you? Confound you for forgetting my Mantons, you
villain. I will bring up the rear."
"Well, I will get on," said I. "but here, give me a pistol."
"Ridez vous en avant, blackimoribus ambos--en avant, you black rascals
laissez le Capitan and me pour fightez"--shouted Bang, as the black
guide, guessing his meaning, spurred his horse against the moonlight
bank.
"Ah--ah!" exclaimed the man, as he wheeled about after he had ridden a
pace or two under the shadow of the trees--"Voila ces autres brigands
la."
"Where?" said I.
"There," said the man in an ecstasy of fear--"there"--and peering up
into the forest, where the checkering dancing moonlight was flickering
on the dun, herbless soil, as the gentle night--breeze made the leaves
of the trees twinkle to and fro, I saw three dark figures advancing upon
us.
Pages:
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707