Books: The Lost Trail
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Edward S. Ellis >> The Lost Trail
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"That means good luck," said he to himself, with a smile; "I always
like to see the moon over my right shoulder, though it can't mean
anything after all, as mother has told me many a time. She said
that she and father, a few nights before he was killed by the
Shawanoes, watched the new moon, which shone through the window,
over his right shoulder and on my bare head. Father was in good
spirits, for he believed in signs, and I think mother, though she
chided him, had a sly belief in them, too; but," added the boy with
a sigh, "she shudders now at the mere mention of such a thing."
While Jack was indulging in this sad reminiscence, he was carefully
picking his way among the trees, making sure that he did not get the
points of the compass confused. There was no call for haste, and it
may be said he felt every step of the way.
"Otto is an odd fellow," he muttered, allowing his fancy to stray
whither it chose, "and I hope he won't become bewildered. He is so
anxious to get the colt, that he will run into trouble if there's
any into which he can run. He is shrewd, brave, and somewhat
stupid, and it is never certain what be will do or say. Let me
see."
He stood still, and, peeping at the moon, as beat he could through
the foliage overhead, studied its position in the heavens, with
particular reference to his own.
"I haven't reached the right spot yet; it must be a hundred yards
further."
His aim was to halt some twenty or thirty rods beyond the clearing.
Then, when assured he had gone far enough, he would walk directly
toward Otto, the two keeping the horse between them.
"I do so hope we will get him," muttered Jack, beginning to feel a
misgiving now that the decisive moment was at hand, "for if we fail
it will end the business. If he goes home without the colt, his
father will beat him, and more than likely will drive him into the
woods and forbid him to come back till he brings the horse with him.
He is such a hard-hearted, miserly old fellow, that he will accept
no excuse from Otto, and his mother doesn't seem to be much better."
After a time Jack reached the point where he found the moonlight
streaming over his right shoulder. Of course, he could have secured
that lucky omen at any time, but it resulted now from the systematic
course he had followed, and he was sure no mistake had been made.
He had no more than formed the conclusion that everything was as it
should be, when he was surprised to hear the neigh of a horse within
bowshot of where he stood. As it came from the direction of the
clearing, no doubt remained that it was the animal for which he was
hunting.
"It looks as if it is to be my fortune after all to recover the
colt," thought the pleased lad. "It will be a surprise to Otto, but
I hope we shall not have to wait any longer, for we have lost a good
deal of time."
He moved through the wood, stepping softly, so as not to frighten
the animal, which probably had had enough of liberty to be unwilling
to go back to bondage.
A brief distance was passed, when the young Kentuckian caught sight
of the stray steed. In an opening, less than a tenth of an acre,
where there was an abundance of grass, stood the identical colt
which ran away the day before. Saddle and bridle were still in
place, though even the moonlight was sufficient to show they had
suffered much from the journey of the horse. The latter, evidently
was suspicious that something was amiss. He was cropping the grass,
when the sound of Jack's footsteps alarmed him. He stood with his
head up, the grass dripping like water from his mouth, while he
listened for the cause of alarm.
Jack Carleton was well aware of the difficulty that faced him when
on the very threshold of success. Though he was close to the
animal, he was not yet secured.
"Ah! If Deerfoot was here," sighed the boy, "then there would be no
doubt of the result, for he would dart forward and catch him. If
the horse wanted to run away, he would let him do it, and then the
Shawanoe would chase him down, just as easily as he would me or
Otto; but it is going to be hard work for me."
It was difficult to decide on the best course of procedure. The
sagacious creature would not only be quick to recognize Jack, but
equally quick to understand his purpose in approaching him. It was
too much to expect him to submit quietly to recapture.
Jack softly plucked a handful of grass, and, stepping out from the
cover of the woods began moving gently toward the colt. The latter
turned his head and uttered a sniff of inquiry, at the same time
showing an inclination to whirl about and gallop off. The boy stood
still and, holding out the grass, deftly manipulated it so that a
part dropped loosely to the ground: this insured its notice by his
victim. Jack also addressed him in his most soothing tones. He
called him all the pet names at his command, and, as the steed still
held his ground, the youth resumed his stealthy advance.
Jack Carleton's heart throbbed with hope. The animal threw his head
higher, snuffed louder, and manifestly was hesitating whether to
permit a closer approach before fleeing, or whether to turn his face
at once from temptation.
"A few steps more and he is mine," was the thought of Jack, who
repeated the pet names with greater ardor, interspersing them with a
variation of cluckings and chirpings that would have charmed a
prattling baby. He increased his pace, for he was almost within
reach, while the beast snorted with excitement.
All at once Jack dropped the gun in his other hand, and made a
desperate plunge, meaning to grasp the forelock of the horse. It
may be said that he succeeded, for he felt the coarse, cool hair as
it was swept through his fingers by the flirt of the animal's head.
Jack missed success, by what may be truly said to have been a hair's
breadth.
"Whoa! confound you!"
This command was uttered in a very different tone from that in which
he had been addressing the colt a minute before. There was nothing
soothing in it, and the animal showed his contempt by whirling
about, kicking up his heels and dashing into the woods.
Jack snatched his gun from the ground and bounded after him at the
imminent risk of breaking his neck. He was too far from Otto and
his captor to attract attention, but the noise may have reached the
ears of the Indian. The angered pursuer did not coax or order the
colt, for what he had done in that line was sufficient to show the
effort was thrown away.
He listened: the animal was still going at a rate which showed he
believed the danger was at his heels. The sound he made, while
galloping over the leaves and through the bushes, grew fainter and
fainter until it died out altogether.
"I suppose he will keep it up for several hours. If he faces toward
the settlement, he will reach it to-morrow, but if he veers to the
right or left, Otto may as well give up the job."
Jack was keenly disappointed, for he had been confident of success,
and now he was forced to admit there was scarcely a hope of ever
seeing the colt again.
"It's a bad go," he said, turning about and moving toward the
clearing, where he had left his friend; "we'll keep up the hunt
to-morrow, but if he isn't caught before sundown, I shall insist
that we go home. Mother's anxious to see me," he added, in a softer
voice, "but no more than I am to see her. It has been weeks since
we parted, and if anything should happen to her while I am loitering
by the way, I can never forgive myself."
He did not reflect that he was exposed to tenfold more harm than his
parent. He reproached himself that he had tarried in Coatesville
until Otto came for him. He was ready and waiting several days,
during which he could have made the journey on foot, without the
guidance of his friend.
However, it was too late now for regrets, and he tried to take
matters philosophically.
The young Kentuckian made certain he was steadily pursuing the right
course, and, when he thought he had advanced far enough, he emitted
the whistle agreed upon. Of course no reply came back, for, as the
reader knows, the young Teuton for whom the signal was meant was not
in a situation to make suitable answer. In fact it did not reach
his ears at all.
Without losing any more minutes, Jack Carleton pushed forward, until
he was brought to a stand-still by catching the unmistakable glimmer
of a light a short distance ahead among the trees.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE EAVESDROPPER
Naturally the first impression of Jack Carleton, on seeing the
light, was that it proceeded from the fire kindled by Otto. It
struck him as curious that he should do so before be could be
certain the horse was captured; but, in accordance with his
training, Jack took nothing for granted. A few guarded steps, and
he discovered the truth; the light was much closer than he
suspected, and came through a slight rent in the side of an Indian
wigwam.
The young Kentuckian was astounded, for he had never dreamed of
anything of the kind. He concluded he must be on the confines of an
Indian village, and made a further investigation; but it did not
take long to learn that the lodge stood alone in the great forest.
"I suppose some chieftain or warrior has quarreled with his people
and lives by himself," was the remarkably accurate guess of the boy;
"I don't know how he feels toward white folks, but I'll take a
little further look and then hunt up Otto."
He could not fail to note that the lodge stood close to the clearing
where he had agreed to meet his friend, and he was unable to free
himself of a dread, while stealing forward for the purpose of
peeping through the rent in the side of the aboriginal structure.
Otto must have seen the wigwam before reaching it, though the
proprietor might have been quicker in detecting the approach of a
stranger.
Fully sensible of the care required, Jack advanced slowly, without
noise, feeling every inch of the way. At last he was able to bend
forward and peep through the slight opening, which first told him of
the location of the wigwam. It required some delicate maneuvering
to gain a good view of the interior, and it need not be said that
the result was of the most interesting nature.
His eyes, or rather eye (inasmuch as he used only one), first rested
on the dusky baby, that had managed to kick off the blanket, and was
fiercely tugging at the piece of cooked venison which his dusky
mother bad tossed him. He held it between his scant teeth, grasping
it with his chubby hands, while his feet beat the air, occasionally
catching under his chin, as though he was using hands and feet to
force the meat apart. He worked his legs with such a vigor that at
times he seemed in danger of making a back somersault and bumping
through the side of the lodge.
Under other circumstances Jack Carleton would have laughed outright
at the comical figure of the bright-eyed infant; but the sight of
Otto Relstaub checked all such feeling, and deepened the alarm which
came with the first sight of the wigwam.
It so happened that Jack was much closer to his friend than he was
to any of the other three figures. No more than two feet separated
the boys, and in peering into the lodge, the eavesdropper looked
directly over the head and shoulders of Otto. The familiar peaked
hat, which had not been removed, the rather long, curling hair, the
round, rosy check, broad shoulders, the tip of the pug nose, the
plump chin, the feet, and the arms resting idly on the drawn-up
knees--all these made the young German look like an exaggerated
fairy, that had dropped in on some superstitious mortals and was
regaling them with tales of wonderland. But Otto was not
discoursing to listeners; he was looking from one to the other,
sometimes smiling at the snuffing, kicking, clawing infant, and then
assuming an anxious expression, when his eyes rested on the face of
the others who shared the lodge with him.
The squaw was slowly drawing in and exhaling the vapor from her
pipe, with the deliberate enjoyment of an old smoker. With her
elbows on her knees, she stared fixedly at Otto, who must have been
annoyed by her persistency.
Wish-o-wa-tum, the Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, occupied his throne of
bison skin on the other side of the wigwam, and, having tired of
sitting erect as became a monarch, was lounging on his right elbow,
leaving his left hand free to manipulate his pipe, which was
occasionally taken from his lips, after the cheeks were filled to
overflowing with pungent vapor. Then, forming his immense mouth
into a contracted circle, be ejected the smoke with his doubled
tongue, sending forth ring after ring, in any direction he chose.
Looking up at the opening in the top of the lodge, he started a
regular procession of blue circles, twisting inward and slowly
expanding as they climbed toward the fresh air, where they were
suddenly caught and whirled into nothingness.
Jack had the best view of the chieftain he could wish, and fearful
of being detected, drew his head back a few inches so as to be in
entire darkness, and studied the ugly countenance. He observed the
small, piggish eyes far apart, the big cheek bones, the disfigured
nose, the enormous mouth, the slouchy, untidy dress, and even the
half dozen straggling hairs that sprouted here and there over his
massive chin.
He noticed the flitting glances of the black eyes, and knew that the
unattractive Indian had, in some way or other, made a prisoner of
Otto Relstaub, whose rifle was missing. Standing on the outside
with his loaded gun in hand, the young Kentuckian could have done as
he pleased with the red man, who had no suspicions of danger; but
the thought of shooting him was unspeakably shocking to Jack, who
could not have been persuaded to the step unless forced to do so, in
order to save the life of Otto or himself.
Cruel indeed must any one be who could look on the picture of
domestic happiness, the stolid father, the contented mother, and the
lusty youngster, without feeling his heart stirred by that deep,
inborn sympathy which makes the whole world akin.
"He isn't a Shawanoe or Miami," was the conclusion of Jack, after a
careful study of the warrior's face and general appearance; "I have
never seen an Osage, but have heard much of them, and I'm quite sure
he is one. If that is so, he isn't as fierce as his race on the
other side the Mississippi, and I think we can get Otto out of there
without harm to any one. If we are going to live in this part of
the world, we must keep on good terms with the Indians. Helloa!
what is the old fellow going to do?"
Jack noticed that the head of the family had stopped glancing from
one part of the lodge to another, and was looking steadily at Otto,
as if he meditated some design against him.
And so he did. Drawing in an enormous quantity of smoke, he removed
the stem from his leathern lips, contracted them into another O, and
suddenly shot out a vapory ring, followed instantly by a second,
third and fourth, and then by so many that they stumbled over each
other's heels, as may be said. Indeed, the mouth of Wish-a-wa-tum
seemed to have become a mitrailleue for the moment, that sent a
continuous volley across the wigwam.
When the bombardment opened, Otto was looking thoughtfully at the
ground in the middle of the lodge, so that his face was turned
toward the chieftain. The latter aimed with such skill that, as he
intended, the first ring passed directly over the end of Otto's pug
nose, which for the instant looked as though some painter had
enclosed the organ in a delicately tinted circle.
The latter was no more than in place, when it was followed by
several others. The series, however, was blown into nothingness by
a resounding sneeze from Otto, which started the vapor toward the
opening above, that seemed to exert a greater power as the distance
from the ground increased. When within a few inches of the outlet,
the smoke flew apart, spun around and whisked out of sight, with the
current that was borne upward from every part of the lodge.
"Donderation!" exclaimed Otto as best he could, through the
strangling vapor; "what for you don't do dot? Don't you vants to
kill somepodys mit your smoke--don't it? Yaw I oogh!"
Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder did not stir. Still holding his pipe
suspended in his left hand, he looked at the discomfited youth and
smiled.
The smile was the most prodigious on which Jack Carleton had ever
looked. He saw the corners of the mouth move back on the cheeks
until it seemed they must touch the ears. Perhaps the chief smiled
so seldom that the few served to bring up the "general average" of
those that were lacking.
Wish-o-wa-tum could have added to the distress of Otto by continuing
his vapory cannonade, but he refrained, and amused himself by
sending the rings once more toward the chimney.
While this little episode was going on, the squaw, with her chin on
her hands and her elbows on her knees, continued to stare at Otto;
but she showed no disposition to smile even in the slightest degree.
In her the element of mirth appeared to be totally lacking.
It is more than probable that she had not acquired the art of
ejecting the circles of smoke, or she would have followed up the
exhibition of her husband with a similar one, inspired thereto by
the innate ugliness of her nature.
The incident described did much to dissipate the alarm of Jack
Carleton for his friend. The overwhelming smile on the countenance
of the chieftain made it attractive, for it was free from the
disfigurement of hate.
"Yes, he is an Osage, with his wife and little one. He may not be a
pleasant neighbor, but he would not dare to live away from his
tribe, if he was as cruel as the Shawanoes or Hurons. Some of the
settlers would shoot him and his squaw and papoose."
This theory was reasonable, but from the nature of the case it could
not be complete in the assurance it brought to the mind of the young
Kentuckian, inasmuch as it failed to explain several alarming facts.
In the first place, Otto, manifestly, was a prisoner in the lodge.
He had no gun with which to defend himself, nor could the guarded
peeping of the eavesdropper discover the weapon within the wigwam.
In what manner the German had fallen into the power of the Osage was
beyond conjecture, nor could Jack guess the ultimate intentions of
the captor.
"I have my loaded gun," was the thought of the youth, "and I ought
to be able to get Otto out of this scrape. I shall be sorry, indeed,
to harm any one in the wigwam, and so long as it is possible to avoid
it, I will. If the warrior receives injury it will be his own fault."
At such times, the most curious fancies often take possession of a
person. Jack Carleton had convinced himself that the Indian, wigwam
was the only one in the neighborhood; but he had scarcely decided
what his course should be, when he began to fear he had made a
mistake. It seemed unlikely that a single Osage should dwell apart
from his tribe in that fashion.
"There must be other lodges near me," he thought, stepping softly
back and peering around in the gloom.
It mattered not that he saw no lights from any of them, for he
reasoned that they might be hidden by the intervening trees. So
strong was the feeling, that he moved further off and repeated the
very reconnaissance made a short time previous.
He would not have done so, had he not known that Otto was in no
immediate danger from his captor. Had the latter offered him harm,
the struggle would have been heard in the stillness of the night,
and Jack would have rushed to the relief of his friend.
Finally, the eavesdropper became satisfied that whatever the issue
of the strange situation, he had but the single family to face.
Then he was distressed by the doubt as to what the squaw would do,
it he carried out his scheme. It is well, known that the Indian
women are as brave, and frequently more cruel, toward their captives
than are the warriors themselves. If the one before him became
violent, Jack would be likely to find he had undertaken a task
beyond his power.
His determination was to walk directly into the lodge and act as if
he believed the occupants were his friends. He therefore strode
forward toward the entrance, purposely kicking the leaves with his
feet; and it was that noise which apprised those within of his
approach.
CHAPTER XXIX
WITHIN THE WIGWAM
Jack Carleton walked to the flapping deerskin which closed the
entrance to the wigwam, flung it aside, and, stooping slightly,
stepped within. Looking into the face of Wish-o-wa-tum, he made a
half military salute and, straightening up, called out:
"How do you do, brother?"
The etiquette of the visitor required him to advance and offer his
hand, but he was afraid to do so while in doubt as to the sentiments
of the chief. The young Kentuckian recalled an instance somewhat
similar to the present, wherein a Huron warrior, grasping the hand
of the white man who offered it, suddenly drew him forward and
plunged his hunting-knife into his side.
The unexpected visit of Jack produced a sensation amounting, for the
moment, almost to consternation. For the first time the squaw showed
genuine surprise. Snapping the pipe from her mouth, she threw up her
head with a grunt, and stared at the athletic youth. The kicking baby
on the hearth appeared to understand that something unusual was going
on, and held arms and legs still, while he stared, with his round
black eyes, toward the figure at the other end of the lodge.
Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder turned his head, holding his pipe in hand,
and looked inquiringly at the visitor. He showed no signs of fear,
but, manifestly, he was astonished. His fragmentary conversation
with the other boy had given him no cause to look for such a call,
though he saw at a glance that the two were friends.
Otto Relstaub beamed with delight. With an expanse of smile second
only to that of which the sachem was capable, he rose partly to his
feet and, looking at Jack, called out:
"Mine gracious! Jack, I didn't look for nodings of you pefore, as
dot ish--"
"Hold on!" interposed the lad at the door, with a laugh and wave of
the hand, "sit down and compose yourself till you can talk
straighter than that."
"I dinks I does--yaw," muttered the happy fellow, willing to do
anything suggested by his companion; "but come in and sot down."
While addressing Otto, Jack kept his eyes on Wish-o-wa-tum, for it
may be said he was the key of the situation. If he showed hostility,
trouble was sure to follow. Jack half expected to see him make a
leap for his bow or rifle, or attempt to draw his tomahawk.
If he does thought the boy, "I'll raise my gun first, and he will
understand what that means."
But the looks and manner of the host (if such he may be called) were
neither hostile nor friendly; they were indifferent, as though the
whole business possessed no interest to him. After his first
surprised stare, he swung his head back to its former position and
slowly smoked his pipe as before.
Jack Carleton made up his mind on the moment that his true course
was to carry out his first idea that is, to act as though there was
no doubt of the friendship of the Osage.
Stepping to the left, he set his gun on the ground with the muzzle
leaning against the side of the lodge. No more expressive sign of
comity could have been given than this simple act. He then advanced
to the beefy, stolid chieftain, to whom he offered his hand,
repeating the words:
"How do you do, brother?"
Wish-o-wa-tum took the fingers in his own immense palm, and gave
them a moderate pressure. Though it might have been called a warm
salute, it sent a shiver through the youth, who unconsciously braced
himself against any sudden pull of the savage, his other hand, at
the same time, vaguely seeking the handle of his knife.
But, whatever thoughts or intentions may have stirred the massive
chieftain, they gave no evidence of their nature in his face. He
looked up at the boy, and, as he slightly wabbled the hand within
his own, said:
"How do, brudder?"
Jack then turned about and greeted Otto, who could scarcely contain
himself. The movement, it will be noticed, placed the back of the
former toward the chief, and he was conscious of another chill
running up and down his spine; for no better opportunity could be
given the Indian to strike one of those treacherous, lightning-like
blows peculiar to the savage races.
"Keep your eye on him," said Jack, in an undertone, while shaking
the hand of Otto, and both were talking loud and effusively.
Otto nodded his head and winked, to signify he caught on, and did
not check, for a single moment, his rattling flow of talk. Jack, in
the most natural manner, shifted his position to one side, so he was
able to look upon every one in the wigwam without the appearance of
any special object in doing so.
The great point with the callers was to secure the good-will of the
savages. It may seem shrewd on their part, but any boy, no matter
what his age, knows that the surest way to win the friendship of a
household is to magnify the importance of the baby.
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