Books: The Lost Trail

E >> Edward S. Ellis >> The Lost Trail

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The elder Indian seemed to be speculating the probable course of the
unconscious fugitives. It could not be supposed that he was familiar
with the country (since his home was on the other side of the
Mississippi), but like the majority of mankind when in difficulty, he
was able to form a theory, but unlike that majority, he proved his
faith in it by his works. Instead of following the footprints, he
diverged to the right and coursed along the edge of the clearing,
where he was almost entirely concealed by the shadow of the trees.

He had not gone far, when Deerfoot silently emerged from the wood.
His keen eye revealed what must have been noticed by the other: on
that spot the boys had stopped with the intention of encamping for
the night. Had they remained, beyond all doubt one or both would
have been slain, but from some cause (long since explained to the
reader) they passed on.

Deerfoot hurried on with a speed that was almost reckless, for that
marvelous intuition seemed to whisper that the crisis was near. His
friends could not be far off, and the question of safety or danger
must be speedily settled.

Just beyond the clearing, while hastening forward, he caught, the
glow of the fire shining through the rents and crevices of the shabby
skin of the Osage wigwam. He heard the of voices within, and a few
seconds later he was peeping through the same orifice that had a
similar purpose for jack Carleton when played the part of eavesdropper.

CHAPTER XXXII

TURNING THE TABLES

Although Jack Carleton and Otto Relstaub understood nothing of the
conversation (excepting the few words of mangled English) between
Wish-o-wa-tum, the Osage chieftain, and the Shawanoe who entered his
lodge, little was lost upon Deerfoot.

Without quoting the language, it may be said that Arorara declared
the two boys to be thieves and wretches of the worst imaginable
degree. They had stolen the horses of the Shawanoes and Miamis, and
had treacherously shot, not only the warriors, but the squaws and
papooses, when they lay asleep by their camp-fires.

Arorara said he had been sent by his people to follow across the
river, and punish them for their many crimes. His purpose in
placing the guns as he had done, near the entrance of the lodge, was
to tempt the boys to make a rush to escape.

When they did so, Arorara proposed that he and Wish-o-wa-tum should
leap upon them with knives.

When this plan was fully explained to the chief, he nodded his head
and signified that he would willingly lend his hand. It was a
matter of indifference to him, and, but for the coming of the
Shawanoe, he probably would have allow the boys to depart without
harm. With Wish-o-wa-tum the whole question resolved itself into
one of policy. He lived alone and had never been disturbed by the
white settlers, who were locating in different parts of the territory.
If he should help in the taking off of youngsters, their friends
would not be likely to suspect him, and there was little probability
of the truth ever reaching their ears.

But, if he refused the request of the guest, the fierce tribe to
which he belonged would be sure to go out of their way to punish
him. He therefore gave his assent, and added that he was ready do
his part whenever Arorara wished.

It was at that juncture that the two red men essayed expression in
English, and Deerfoot saw that he must interfere at once. While
moving to the front of the lodge, he scanned his immediate surroundings,
so far as he could, but neither saw nor heard anything of the other
Shawanoe. In short, from what has already been told, it will be seen
that it was impossible for him to be in that vicinity.

Throwing back the deerskin, the youthful warrior stepped quickly
within the wigwam. His bow was flung over his back, and, being
perfectly familiar with the interior, he extended his hand and
caught up the weapon nearest him, standing erect and facing all the
occupants as did Arorara a short time before. This movement and the
entrance itself were made with such deftness that no one observed
his presence, with the exception of Otto Relstaub, who by accident
happened to look toward him just as he entered.

But the startling words of the German lad, accompanied by the
extension of his arm and finger toward the door, turned every eye
like a flash in that direction. They were just in time to catch a
glimpse of the arms of Deerfoot, as they were raised like the
flitting of the wings of a bird, and almost in the same breath the
youth was seen to be looking along the gleaming barrel pointed the
breast of the astounded warrior.

"Dog of a Shawanoe!" exclaimed Deerfoot, his voice as firm and
unwavering as his nerves; "coward! Serpent that creeps in the grass
and strikes the heel of the hunter; Arorara speaks with a double
tongue; he says he took the scalp of Deerfoot, but the scalp of
Deerfoot is here, and he dares Arorara and Waughtauk and Tecumseh
and all the chiefs and sachems and warriors of the Shawanoes, to
take it!"

The rifle, with the hammer drawn back, was flung to the ground, and
whipping out his hunting knife, the youth grasped the handle with
fingers of steel and assumed a defiant attitude. His face was aflame
with passion, and his breast became a raging volcano of wrath.

In truth, Deerfoot had lost control of himself for the moment. An
overwhelming sense of his persecution caused his nature to revolt,
and he longed for the excuse to leap upon the Shawanoe who had
followed him across the Mississippi. There was a single moment when
he gathered his muscles for a tiger-like bound at his enemy, he was
restrained only by the pitiful expression on the terrified
countenance.

The youth addressed his words to Arorara and his blazing eyes were
fixed on him. He had no quarrel with Wish-o-wa-tum and understood
his position, but he would not have shrunk from an attack by both.
Deerfoot knew that either was more powerful than he, but in cat-like
agility there could be no comparison between them.

Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, however, showed very plainly that he held
the invader of his lodge in great fear. He displayed visible emotion,
when listening to the ringing words of defiance; but he possessed
sense enough to perceive they were not addressed to him, and he
continued to smoke his pipe in silence.

The squaw at the further end of the wigwam started, and with the
pipe in her grasp, stared with a dazed expression at the daring
intruder; then, like the true mother the world over, she leaned
forward, caught up her sleeping infant and held him to her breast,
ready to defend him with her life.

Arorara looked in turn straight into the burning countenance of
Deerfoot. The elder warrior had unconsciously assumed an admirable
pose, his left foot forward, his hand resting on the handle of his
tomahawk, his whole position that of a gathering his strength for a
tremendous leap. But though his fingers toyed with the weapon at
his waist, they did not draw it forth; it was for that precise
signal the youth was waiting.

While in this attitude, which might have been accepted as indicating
the most heroic courage, Deerfoot saw the lump or Adam's apple rise
sink in his throat, precisely as if he were to swallow something.
It was done twice, and was a sign of weakness on the part of
Arorara.

The consuming anger of Deerfoot burned out like a flash of powder.
Hatred became contempt; enmity turned to scorn, and the mortal peril
of the warrior vanished.

"Who now is the dog?" asked Deerfoot in English, with a curl of his
lip. "Arorara is brave when he stands before the youths who have no
weapons; he then speaks with the double tongue; he cannot utter the
truth. Arorara has his tomahawk and knife, Deerfoot has his; let
them fight and see whose scalp shall remain."

"Don't you do dot, old Roarer," exclaimed Otto Relstaub, stepping
forward in much excitement; "if you does, den you won't be old
Roarer not any more, as nefer vose-yaw! Dunderation!"

"Let them alone," commanded Jack Carleton, catching his arm and
drawing him back; "don't interfere."

"Don't you sees?" asked Otto, turning his head and speaking in a
whisper; "I want to scare old Roarer."

"There's no call for doing that, for he's so seared now he can't
speak; he won't fight Deerfoot."

Arorara possessed less courage than Tecumseh, who, when challenged
by Deerfoot in almost the same manner, would have fought him to the
death had not others interposed. The Shawanoe was now in mortal
terror of such an encounter.

"Deerfoot and Arorara are brothers," said he, swallowing again the
lump that rose in his throat; "they belong to the same totem; they
are Shawanoes; the Great Spirit would frown to see them harm each
other."

The words were spoken in Shawanoe, but Jack and Otto saw, from the
looks and manner of the elder warrior, that he was subdued and could
not be forced into a struggle with the lithe and willowy youth.

It was not flattering to the pride of the young Kentuckian and his
companion that while Arorara felt no fear of them jointly, he was
terrified by the bearing of Deerfoot, who voluntarily relinquished
the advantage he possessed in the hope that it would induce the
other to fight.

The abject words of Arorara caused a reaction in the feelings of
Deerfoot. His conscience condemned him for his outburst of passion,
and had the situation permitted, he would have prostrated himself in
prayer and begged the forgiveness of the Great Spirit whom he had
offended.

But nothing in his face or voice or manner betrayed the change.

He remained standing in front of the deerskin, which was thrown
back, so that the light from the camp-fire shone against the gloom
beyond; his left hand held the knife with the same rigid grasp, and
the limbs, which in the American Indian rarely show much muscular
development, were as drawn as steel.

The squaw clasped the sleeping infant to her husky bosom and glared
at Deerfoot, like a lioness at bay. Had he advanced to do harm to
her offspring, she would have sprang upon him with the fierceness of
that beast and defended the little one to the death. Had the youth
assailed Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, probably she would have sat an
interested spectator of the scene until it became clear which way it
was going, when she might have wrapped her baby in bison-skin,
placed him carefully away, and taken a part in the struggle.

The Osage resumed the deliberate puffing of his pipe, but glanced
from one face to the other of the two Shawanoes. Stolid and lazy as
he was, by nature and training, he could not help feeling stirred by
the curious scene.

Jack Carleton and Otto were on their feet, studying the two
countenances with equal intentness. Both were cheered by the
consciousness that danger no longer threatened them, and that
whatever followed must accord with the fact that Deerfoot the
Shawanoe was master of the situation.

CHAPTER XXXIII

CONCLUSION

"My brother speaks with a single tongue," said Deerfoot, replying to
the cringing words of Arorara: "the Great Spirit will frown when be
sees two brothers fighting each other. Deerfoot has slain more than
one Shawanoe and has spared others; he will spare Arorara; he may
sit down beside the Osage warrior and smoke pipe with him."

Immediately the youth shoved his knife in place, and for the first
time seemed to become aware that he stood in the presence of others.
He bestowed no attention on Wish-o-wa-tum or his squaw, but
addressed his young friends.

"Let my brothers go from this lodge and make their way homeward;
Arorara will not pursue them."

"Arorara will do them no harm," said the individual in as cringing
manner as before.

"No, he will not, for Deerfoot will watch and slay Arorara if he
seeks to do so," quietly remarked the youth, who, in every sense of
the word, continued master of the situation.

"Let us do vot he tells us," suggested Otto, moving awkwardly toward
the door.

Deerfoot stepped slightly aside, to make room for them, and Jack
accepted the movement as an invitation for them to pass out. Otto
held back so as to permit the other to go first, and he followed
close behind him. Otto did not glance at or speak to either. He
had his misgivings concerning not only Arorara, but the Osage, who
might resent this invasion of his castle. Like the finely trained
Indian, he "took no chances."

Jack and Otto were intensely interested in the situation, but they
did not forget themselves. The former, as be passed out, picked up
his own rifle, while Otto took the one belonging to the Indian, who
was left at liberty to hunt the gun left on the clearing by the
German lad when he prepared to start his camp-fire for the evening.
Thus each boy was furnished with the weapon which is indispensable
to the ranger of the woods.

Every one can understand the reluctance of the two to walk from the
lodge with their turned upon their foe. With all their confidence
in the prowess of Deerfoot, they felt a misgiving which was sure to
distress them, so long as the enemies were in sight. On reaching
the outside, therefore, they turned about, walked slowly backwards,
and watched the wigwam.

The deerskin being drawn aside, they could the figure of the young
Shawanoe, who had stepped back in front of it. Just beyond was partly
visible the subdued Shawanoe, he and his conqueror obscuring
the squaw, still further away, while Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder was
out of range.

"I think that little place saw more surprises, this evening than it
will ever see again," said Jack Carleton, bending his head with the
purpose of gaining a better view; "in fact it has been a series of
surprise parties from the beginning."

"Yaw, dot ish vot I dinks all a'while, but mine gracious!"

Hitherto it had been the running vines, growing close to the ground,
which caused overturnings of Otto, but now it was another obstruction
in the shape of a tree trunk, over which Jack stepped, taking care
however, to say nothing to his companion concerning it. The smaller
sticks lying near made it look as if the trunk served to help the
squaw of Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, when she was breaking or cutting
wood for the wigwam.

Be that as it may, the heels of Otto struck it and he went over on
his back, with hat and gun flying and shoes pointed upward.

"I dinks dot vos a pig vine," he said, clambering to his feet and
shaking himself together again.

"You're getting to be the best fellow at tumbling I ever saw," said
Jack, suppressing, as well as he could, his laughter.

"Dot ish so," assented the victim, too good-natured to find fault
after his fortunate escape.

By this time, they were so far from the Osage lodge that very little
could be seen of the interior, and they turned round and walked side
by side.

"It seems like a dream," remarked the young Kentuckian; "a few
minutes ago, there was no escape for us, and now I cannot think we
are in the least danger."

"Who dinks dot de Shawanoes comes over der river after us?" asked
Otto.

"Nobody besides Deerfoot: there isn't anything that he doesn't think
of that is worth thinking about."

"Den vy he leaves us, when we leaves him?"

"I've asked myself that question, Otto; it must be that, after we
parted, he learned something which told him the Shawanoes had
crossed the Mississippi after us. He changed his course and came to
our help, and it's mighty fortunate he did so."

"I guess dot ish so; we will asks him when we don't see him."

"I have my doubt about seeing him again."

"How ish dot?"

"You remember he said more than once he had reason to take another
course, and he did do so. He could not have been blamed for
believing we were able to get along without him, after entering
Louisiana. At any rate, he will think so now."

This was a reasonable conclusion, and Otto agreed with his friend
that they were not likely to meet the extraordinary youth for some
time to come. He would probably take another direction, for, after
the threat he uttered to Arorara, and the panic into which he had
thrown him, that warrior would be glad to hasten back to his
friends, who were equally eager to reach Kentucky without loss of
time.

The moon was high in the heavens and the woods open. Much to the
relief of Otto, the vines gave him no further trouble, and they
progressed without difficulty. The neighborhood was strange to
them, but they had tramped the wilderness too often to care. They
were sure of the general direction they were following, and were
confident now of reaching home, which could be no great distance
away.

Such a buoyancy of spirits came over the boys that it was hard to
restrain themselves from shouting and leaping with joy. But for the
mishaps attending such sport they would have run at full speed and
flung their hats in air. Several miles were passed before they
became thoughtful and quiet.

"Mine gracious!" abruptly exclaimed Otto, stopping short and
striking his knee a resounding whack; "vere ain't dot hoss?"

"Had you forgotten about him?" asked companion with a smile.

"I nefer dinks apout him since we comes the lodge."

"I have, more than once; I made up my mind, when I found you in the
wigwam, that if you got out alive, I would insist that we go
straight home and think no more about the animal; but matters are in
a better shape, and we'll wait till to-morrow before we decide."

"Dot suits me," assented Otto, nodding his head several times.

As nearly as they could conjecture, they were some six miles from
the residence of Wish-o-wa-tum or Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, when
they decided to stop for the night. They were fully warranted in
believing that all danger from red men was ended; and, as they had
no means of finding a good camping site, they stopped at once and
began gathering fuel. The task was soon over, and the flint and
steel gave the speedily grew into a roaring blaze, the boys sat and
looked in each other's face.

The night was cool, but pleasant. Clouds, however, were continually
drifting across the face of the moon, and a certain restlessness of
feeling, of which even the rugged youngsters were sensible, told
that a change was coming.

The hour spent in the Osage wigwam was redolent of smoking venison,
and the boys smacked their lips and shook their heads, after the
manner of youngsters, with healthful appetites but there was no way
of procuring food, and they philosophically accepted the situation,
refraining from reference to eatables until there was a prospect of
obtaining them.

Through all the eventful experience of the evening, Jack and Otto
had retained their blankets. The circumstances were such that
neither of the Indians with whom they were brought in contact cared
to secure them, though it may be suspected that, Wish-o-wa-tum would
have laid claim to that of the German, except for the visit of
Arorara and Deerfoot.

Seated by the cheerful fire, the friends talked in rambling fashion
until drowsy, when they wrapped their blankets around them and lay
down to sleep. Some risk was involved in the proceeding, inasmuch
as the fire was likely to attract wild animals to the spot, but
providentially none disturbed the young pioneers, who slept quiet
and security until the sun was in the sky.

The first step was a hunt for breakfast, for Jack and Otto were in a
state of ravenous hunger. They separated and were gone a half hour,
when the rifle of the young Kentuckian rang out and he soon
reappeared by the renewed camp-fire with a fine wild turkey, which,
it need not be said, afforded a nourishing and delightful meal for
them both.

"Otto," said Jack, springing to his feet like a refreshed giant, "we
must hunt again for the horse."

"Dot ishn't vot I don't dinks too--dot ish I does dinks so."

"And you must now try to straighten out your English, so that
Deerfoot and I may not be ashamed of you."

Otto nodded his head by way of assent, while he thought hard about
the proper manner of expressing himself.

But an almost insurmountable difficulty confronted the boys from the
first. It was impossible to make search for the missing animal
until his footprints should be found, and the only way in which that
could be done was by retracing, to a considerable extent, their own
footsteps. Though somewhat disappointed, Jack Carleton was not
surprised, when taking his bearings by the sun, he learned they had
wandered from the proper path. They had turned to the left, until
the course was south of southwest. They had gone far astray indeed.

The weather became more threatening. The sun had been above the
horizon less than an hour when its light was obscured by clouds, and
the windows of heaven were certain to be opened long before the orb
should sink in the west.

Two miles were traveled, when the boys found themselves so close to
a large clearing, that they wondered how it escaped their notice the
preceding night. It covered more than an acre, and at one time was
the site of an Indian village. As a matter of course a small stream
ran near, and the red men who at no remote day made their dwelling
places there must have numbered fully a hundred.

While wandering over the tract and looking about them, their eyes
rested on an elevation no more than a third of a mile distant. It
was thickly wooded, but a prodigious rock near the crest resembled a
spot that had been burned clear.

"Helloa!" suddenly called out Jack Carleton, while gazing in the
direction, "there's someone on that rock."

"I guess it ish a crow or bear--no, it ishn't."

"My gracious! it's Deerfoot."

A moment's scrutiny proved that the individual, beyond all question
was an Indian. Furthermore, he was making signals, probably having
descried them before they saw him.

"I guess he only means to salute us," said Jack.

Such seemed to be the case. The red man who was Deerfoot, waved his
hand in friendly salutation several minutes, then leaped from the
rock and vanished. It looked as if he had taken several hours to
assure himself the boys were in no danger from the Shawanoes; and,
having done so, he now bade them good-bye in his characteristic
fashion, giving his whole thought and energy to the business which
carried him far into the southwestern portion of the present State
of Missouri.

Jack and Otto gazed in the direction of the rock a considerable
while, hoping their friend would reappear, or that he had started to
join them; but they were compelled to believe he had left, and for a
time at least, would be seen no more.

The boys followed the back trail some distance further, when to
their delight they came upon the footprints of the missing horse,
marked so distinctly in the yielding earth that there could be no
mistake as to their identity.

"Now, that's what I call good luck," exclaimed Jack, slapping his
friend on the back.

"Dot ish vot I dinks--how ish dot?" asked Otto with a beaming face,
alluding to his own diction.

"Capital!--think twice before you speak once, and before long you
won't be the worst bungler with your tongue that lives west of the
Alleghenies."

'The German gazed at his companion as if on the point of reproving
him, but concluded to take time to put his words in proper shape.

An interesting fact was noticed by both: the trail verged toward the
elevation where they last saw Deerfoot. Jack Carleton was set to
thinking and speculating over the situation. He asked himself
whether, when Deerfoot was about to pass out of their sight, his
gesticulations did not signify more than his friends supposed.

"I wonder if he did not mean to tell us the horse was not far off: I
believe he did."

"I--dinks--ot--ish-likely--vot--he--does," assented Otto, speaking
with such deliberation that Jack looked in his face, laughed and
nodded his head, approvingly.

"We shall soon find out, for the trail is plain and must be new."

But an unpleasant truth forced itself on their notice. Rain drops
were pattering upon the leaves, and the darkening sky presaged a
storm.

As the best and indeed the only way to protect themselves against a
good drenching, the boys selected a tree whose foliage was
particularly abundant, and seated themselves on the ground with
their backs against it. Then the blankets were gathered over their
heads and around their shoulders, and they felt as secure as if in
their own log cabins, miles distant.

The rain fell steadily for nearly two hours, when it gradually
ceased, and Jack and Otto quickly made ready to resume their
journey. The leaves, twigs and limbs were dripping with moisture,
so that, with the utmost care, it was impossible to advance far
without their garments becoming saturated. That, however, was not a
serious matter, and caused little remark.

For some rods the, hoof-prints of the horse were followed, but then
came the trouble. The rain had beaten down the leaves on the ground
with such force that even the keen eyes of the young Kentuckian
began to doubt. Finally the two paused, and Otto, having carefully
prepared himself, said:

"I dinks dot ish no use for us to hunt the horse."

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