Books: The Lost Trail

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

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There was one respect in which the dress of the German differed from
that of the American. Instead of wearing a cap, he was furnished
with a hat something similar to those seen in some portions of the
Tyrol. It had a brim of moderate width, and the crown gradually
tapered until it attained a height of six inches, where it ended in
it point. The thrifty mother possessed a secret of imparting a
stiffness to the head gear which caused it to keep its shape, except
when limp from moisture.

Such youths as Otto and Jack are always blessed with the most
vigorous appetites, but they had eaten during the afternoon and were
well content to wait until the morrow. As for Deerfoot, it made
little difference to him whether he had partaken since the rising of
the sun, for he had been taught from his infancy to hold every
propensity of his nature in the sternest check. Oft-times he went
hungry for no other purpose than that of self-discipline.

"How was it you came to meet Otto?" asked Jack of the dusky youth,
who, assuming an easy position on the ground, was examining his bow.
He looked up, smiled faintly, and hesitated a moment before
answering.

"Two suns ago Deerfoot came upon a log cabin. It was raining and
cold, and he was a long ways from home. He saw the glimmer of a
light and reached for the latch-string, but it was pulled in. He
knocked on the door and it was opened by the man who lived there.
Deerfoot asked that he might stay till morning, but the pale face
called him an Indian dog, and said that if he did not hasten away he
would shoot him--"

"Don't you know who dot vos?" interrupted Otto, whose face seemed to
grow wider with its immense grin.

"How should I know." asked Jack, in turn.

"Dot was mine fader. I dinks yon vosn't such a fool dot you
wouldn't know dot right away."

"I knew that he was the stingiest man in Kentucky, but I didn't
suppose you spelled his name 'h-o-g."'

"Dot's just de way to spell it," said Otto, slapping his friend on
the shoulder and laughing as though pleased beyond measure. "Wait
till you don't know him as well as I don't."

"Deerfoot turned to walk away," continued the young Shawanoe; "he
had slept many times in the wood, and he was not afraid, but he had
not taken many steps when some one called him. It was too dark to
see, but the voice was of a boy. While Deerfoot waited he threw a
heavy, blanket over his shoulders and made Deerfoot walk back to the
cabin. He asked him to enter the window where the father could not
see him, and he told Deerfoot he would place him in his bed and he
should have food."

The narrator paused in his story and glanced toward Otto Relstaub.
Jack, with a laugh, looked at the stubby youngster, who was blushing
deeply and holding one hand over his face, the fingers spread so far
apart that he could see the others. Otto was also smiling, and his
hand could not begin to hide it, so that each side of his mouth wits
in sight.

"Deerfoot was too proud to receive the offer of the boy, but he took
the blanket."

"And mine gracious!" struck in the lad again; "didn't mine fader
whip me for dat? He proke up three hickory sticks onto me and kept
me dancing out of de cabin and in again, and over the roof, till I
vos so disgusted as nefer vos."

"How did you explain the absence of the blanket?" asked Jack.

"I told mine fader I didn't know not any nodings apout it, and he
whipped me 'cause I didn't know vot I did know, and, when Deerfoot
brought pack de blanket next day, den he knows dat I lied and he
whipped some more as nefer pefore."

Jack Carleton threw back his bead and laughed, though he took care
that he made little noise in doing so; but the face of the Shawanoe
was grave. His refined nature could see nothing mirthful in the
cruel punishment inflicted upon the boy because he did a kindness to
a stranger of another race. The brutal father had only to thank the
Christian restraint of Deerfoot that he was not pierced by an arrow
from his bow for his conduct.

The Shawanoe did not need explain that the little act of Otto had
secured his lasting gratitude. The latter was not one to seek his
company or intrude himself upon him; but he was ready to do the
young German any service in his power.

A few days before, when Deerfoot was returning from the direction of
the Mississippi, he met Otto on horseback. The latter told him he
was going to Coatesville to bring back a young friend, whose mother
was in the new settlement. For some reason, which the Shawanoe did
not make known, he could not accompany Otto, or he would have done
so; but he gave him full directions and numerous suggestions, every
one of which Otto forgot within the following fifteen minutes.

Deerfoot, however, after making some calculations as to the time the
boys would reach the Mississippi on their return, promised to meet
them there and to take them across in his canoe, which was hidden
not far away.

The Shawanoe particularly instructed Otto that, if the meeting
should take place at night, he would make known his departure from
the Louisiana side by swinging a torch in a circular manner. It was
this signal which recalled the agreement to the mind of Otto
Relstaub, who remembered much more than he would have Jack Carleton
believe.

CHAPTER VI

NIGHT AND MORNING

Deerfoot made known his purpose to take his friends across the
Mississippi on the morrow in his canoe, after which he would keep
them company for some distance along the trail, though he would be
forced to leave them long before reaching their destination.

Jack Carleton naturally felt a deep interest in the youthful
warrior, and expected him to give some facts in his wonderful
history, as well as an intimation of what his life was likely to be
in the new country to which he had removed, but much to the young
Kentuckian's disappointment, he carefully avoided all reference to
himself. His conversation being of such a nature that it is hardly
worth recording in this place.

When the evening was well along, Otto threw more wood on the flames
which crackled and gave out a cheerful glow. Deerfoot rose to his
feet, and without a word passed out into the gloom. The hour for
retiring was close at hand, and he preferred to make a
reconnaissance before trusting themselves to slumber.

He returned as noiselessly as he went, remarking as he resumed his
seat that no danger whatever threatened them, and they could slumber
in peace. While speaking, he drew from a pocket within the skirt of
his bunting-shirt, the little Bible which had been presented to him
months before by Mrs. Preston of Wild Oaks, after the other volume
was destroyed by the bullet that was aimed at the heart of the
youth, by the hostile chieftain.

Adjusting himself in an easy posture on the ground, so that the
ruddy fire-light came over his shoulders and fell upon the page with
its minute letters, the young Shawanoe read for several minutes to
himself. The others held their peace, impressed with the singular
sight. Neither could doubt that he clearly comprehended every word
of the sublime volume, and they felt that it was wrong to break in
upon his meditation.

All at once he raised his head and asked, "Would my brothers wish to
hear Deerfoot read?"

"We would, indeed," was the reply of Jack Carleton; "I never saw an
Indian who could read from a, printed book, but I have been told
that you can write an excellent hand."

Deerfoot shook his head disparagingly.

"My brother mistakes, but Deerfoot will try and read the words which
the Great Spirit speaks to all his people, whether they are pale
faces or red men."

And then, in a low musical voice, tremulous with emotion and
impressive beyond description, the Shawanoe read an entire chapter
from the book of Revelations, his favorite portion of the blessed
Book, the others listening spellbound. Even Otto Relstaub, who saw
and heard little of genuine Christian teachings in his cheerless
home, was touched as never before by the indescribably solemn story
of the apocalyptic vision.

The silence which succeeded lasted several minutes, when Jack said
in a low voice:

"Deerfoot, I wish you would speak some sentences from the Bible in
your own tongue."

"Does my brother wish to learn the Shawanoe language?"

"I have heard Shawanoes, Hurons and Miamis talk, but I can't
understand a word; I have a curiosity to know how it will sound to
hear some parts of the Bible with which I am familiar tittered in an
unknown tongue."

"What part of the book can my brother repeat without reading the
words?"

"Well--that is--I don't know," replied Jack, confused by the
question of Deerfoot, who fixed his eyes inquiringly upon him; "I
mean any sentence."

"Does my brother not read the Bible every day?" asked the Indian, in
a grieved rather than a reproving voice; "he must know the Lord's
Prayer--"

"O yes, yes," replied Jack, desperately clutching at the single
straw. "I meant to ask you to repeat that."

In the same low, reverent voice he had used while reading, the
warrior uttered the inspired petition, which shall last through all
time. When he had finished, he said:

"My brother would like to remember the words as Deerfoot has spoken
them; Deerfoot will print them for him."

And drawing a species of red chalk from the same pocket which held
the Bible, he wrote for several minutes on one of the fly-leaves of
the bock. When he had finished he glanced over the words, carefully
tore out the leaf and handed it across to Jack.

The latter examined the paper, and saw written in a fine, delicate
hand the following words, which are preserved to this day, and
which, when properly pronounced, constitute the Lord's Prayer as it
has been uttered many a time by the dusky lips of the Shawanoe
warrior, when his fiery nature was subdued by its blessed teachings:

"Coe-thin-a, spim-i-key yea-taw-yan-ee, O wes-sa-yeg
yey-sey-tho-yan-ae; Day-pale-i-tum-any-pay-itch tha-key,
yea-issi-tay-hay-yon-ae, issi-nock-i-key, yoe-ma assis-key-kie
pie-sey spin-I-key. Me-li-na-key oe noo-ki cos-si-kie ta-wa-it-ihin
oe yea-wap-a-ki tuck-whan-a; puck-i-tum-I-wa-loo
kne-won-ot-i-they-way. Yea-se-puck-I-tum-a-ma-chil-i-tow-e-ta
thick-i na-chaw-ki tussy-neigh-puck-sin-a wa-pun-si-loo wau po won-
ot-i-they ya key-la tay pale-i-tum-any way wis-sa kie was-
si-sut-i-we-way thay-pay-wo-way."

Jack studied the singular words several minutes, and then, with some
hesitation, undertook to pronounce them. He did only fairly, even
when corrected by Deerfoot, who added the rebuke:

"Let my brother say them over many times in his own language, for
the Great Spirit knows all tongues when he who speaks the words
speaks them with his heart."

The consciousness that these words were uttered by one who belonged
to what is generally regarded its a pagan race, brought a blush to
the face of the sturdy youth that had listened to the same appeal
more than once from the lips of his mother.

Under the assurance of Deerfoot, the boys stretched themselves on
the leaves and branches and soon sunk into a refreshing slumber.
Jack recalled that his last remembrance was of Deerfoot resting his
head on his elbow, while he seemed absorbed in his book. He lay as
motionless as a figure in bronze, but no matter how much he might be
enchained by the words, he could not be insensible of what was going
on around him.

Both Jack and Otto slept until the light of morning was stealing
through the woods. Then, when they arose to their feet, they saw
the Shawanoe broiling a couple of whitefish which he had managed to
coax from the Mississippi. He had almost finished before his
friends suspected what was doing.

After greeting the warrior, the others passed through the woods to
the margin of the mighty river, where they bathed their faces and
hands, took a slight swallow of the somewhat muddy water and then
rejoined Deerfoot, who had their breakfast ready.

"Did my brothers see any signs that frightened them?" asked
Deerfoot, when the three had seated themselves on the ground and
were partaking of their meal.

"I took the best survey I could of the river," replied Jack, "but
saw nothing of friend or foe. I don't suppose, as a rule, there are
many Indians in this section."

"The Shawanoes often hunt to the river, but do not cross; the Miamis
come down from the north, and Deerfoot sees their footprints in the
Woods."

"What tribes are we likely to meet on the other side of the
Mississippi?" asked the young Kentuckian, who naturally felt much
interest in the land wherein he expected to make his home.

"There are many red men, even to the mountains which stretch far
beyond the rivers and prairies, and raise their heads among the
clouds."

Jack Carleton was surprised at this reference, which, he believed,
was to the Rocky Mountains, of which little more than their simple
existence was known to the rest of the Union at that day. But the
words which followed astonished him still more:

"Beyond the mountains opens the great sea, wider than that which the
pale faces came across from the Old World; beyond that great sea
lies the land where He died for you and me; all the way to the
shore, of the great water you will find the red men; they are like
the leaves in the woods, and Deerfoot and his friends will die
without ever hearing their names."

"But you have spent some time on the other side the Mississippi, and
must know something of your race there."

"Deerfoot has seen the Osages hunting among the mountains and in the
forest; has seen the Miamis, and, to the northward, may be met the
Sacs and Foxes. Far toward the ice of the North is the land of the
Assiniboine and the Dacotah."

"I should like to know where you gathered all that information?"
remarked the amazed Jack Carleton; "the country beyond the
Mississippi is greater than that on this side, and one of these days
it will overflow with population, then what a country ours will be!"
exclaimed the young patriot, with kindling eye. "But you and I,
Deerfoot, can never live to see that time, which is for those that
come after us."

"Yaw," said Otto, seeming to feel it his duty to say something;
"dere is enough land over dere, I 'spose, for that horse to hide a
week before I don't catch him."

Jack intimated that he was likely to find his search extended beyond
that time, while Deerfoot smiled over the simplicity of the lad,
whose information was so small compared with his opportunities.

Conversing in this pleasant manner, the meal was soon finished, and
they made ready to cross the river.

When the three emerged from the woods they were close to the swiftly
flowing current. Jack and Otto paused, while Deerfoot walked the
few rods necessary to find the canoe that had been drawn up the
bank.

Both the boys could swim the Mississippi if necessary, though, with
their rifles and clothing to take care of, it was anything but a
light task. Had they been without any boat at command, they would
have divested themselves of their garments and placed them and their
"luggage" on it small float, while they swam behind and pushed it
forward.

When the emigrants moved westward they halted long enough on the
bank to construct a raft, sufficient to carry everything in the
course of several trips back and forth. Otto made preparation when
he reached the river some days before on horseback, and, forcing the
animal into the current, slipped back, grasped his tail and allowed
himself to be towed across. He might have done the same on the
preceding day had he been given a few minutes in which to make
preparation, and had he not been unwilling to leave his friend
behind.

"But it will beat all that," remarked Jack Carleton, after they had
discussed the different plans, "to be paddled over in the canoe of
Deerfoot."

"Yaw, but I dinks dot we should go across last, night."

"What would we have gained by that?"

"Then we wouldn't have to go ober agin dis mornings."

"True, but there is no haste called for; if it was not that I am so
anxious to see mother, I would as lief spend a week on the road."

"Dot wouldn't do for me, for mine fader would be looking for me wid
two big gads to him--"

"Helloa! Here comes Deerfoot. What can be the matter? He is
excited over something."

Such was the fact, indeed, for the sagacious Shawanoe had made an
annoying if not alarming discovery.

CHAPTER VII

A SURPRISED FISHERMAN

It may be said that Deerfoot the Shawanoe never lost his senses
excepting when slumber stole them away. Young as he was, he had
been through some of the most terrific encounters the mind can
conceive, and yet, when he stood erect in the full glare of the
noonday sun, not a scratch or scar spoke of those fearful affrays in
the depth of the forest, among the hills and mountains and along the
Shores of the rivers of Kentucky and Ohio.

I have said that he was so hated by his own people that he felt his
presence near the settlements to the eastward was more to the
disadvantage than the help of his friends, and that was one of the
causes which led him to bid adieu forever to his friends.

It has been intimated also that still another reason actuated him,
and that reason shall appear in due time.

When Deerfoot assured Jack Carleton and Otto Relstaub that they
might slumber in peace, he spoke the truth; it has been shown that
not the first breath of danger touched them during the darkness, and
the morning meal was partaken in the same enjoyable fashion.

But before the subtle young Shawanoe reached the spot where he left
his canoe, he was disturbed by discovering the imprint of moccasins
along shore. They led away from his friends and toward the canoe.
A few minutes showed the latter had "received" some visitors since
its owner left it.

It was utterly destroyed. The knives and tomahawks of several,
warriors had hacked be bark structure to pieces. Even the paddle
had been broken into a half dozen parts. Nothing was left of which
use could be made, the blanket of the owner of course being absent.

Deerfoot looked on the wreck with something like dismay, which
speedily turned to anger. The wantonness of the act roiled his
feelings and stirred up the "old Indian" in his nature.

He surveyed the destruction for a minute or two, and then made a
careful examination of the signs the perpetrators could not avoid
leaving behind them.

There had been three Indiana engaged in the mischief, and the first
supposition of Deerfoot was that they were the Shawanoes whom Jack
Carleton saw the day previous; but a few minutes' study of the
footprints betrayed a certain peculiarity (a slight turning outward
of the left foot so slight, indeed, as almost to be imperceptible),
which identified them as Miamis. Deerfoot had noticed the "sign
manual" years before, so there was no room for mistake on his part.

The party had come down from the northward, most likely with other
warriors, and had stumbled by mere chance upon the partially hidden
canoe. They probably investigated matters enough to learn that it
was in charge of two white persons and one red one--enough to
satisfy them that the single Indian was friendly to the settlers,
and therefore one to be despised and harried in every way possible.

It was that discovery which undoubtedly caused them to destroy the
property and steal the blanket. They were not enough interested to
seek the lives of the others, though it may be they were restrained
by fear from doing so.

When Deerfoot came back to the boys, he purposely displayed some
excitement in order to amuse them. He quickly explained what he had
learned, and then, in the most indifferent voice and manner, said
"The Miamis shall pay Deerfoot for his canoe."

"How will you make them do that?" asked Jack, who noticed the
peculiar sparkle which the friends of the warrior always observed
when his feelings were stirred.

"I doesn't not believes dot you and dem cannot agrees mit de price,"
said Otto; "derefore you sends for me and I tells you what de price
ain't, and if dey don't agrees, den I knocks 'em ober de head--don't
it?"

"Deerfoot will not need his brother," said the Indian, gravely; "but
he asks his brothers to wait till he comes back"

"We'll do that," said Jack; "that is, as long as there is a prospect
of your return. When shall we expect you?"

"Deerfoot will be with his brothers before the sun reaches yonder."

He pointed to the place in the sky which the orb would touch about
the middle of the afternoon. Then, warning the two to be very
careful, and to keep continual watch against detection, he moved
away, vanishing from sight in the woods behind them, instead of
keeping close to the shore.

He wept to the southward until he once more reached the spot which
contained the remains of his canoe. He spent another minute in
grimly surveying the ruins, and then, glancing down at the
footprints, followed their direction. He had determined to call the
scamps to account for the injury done him.

As they belonged to the Miami tribe, it was quite likely they had a
boat with them, though their hunting-grounds were east of the
Mississippi, and possibly they had other property upon which the
offended Shawanoe meant to levy.

He followed the trail for nearly a furlong, when it divided; two of
the warriors turned to the left and went deeper into the woods,
while the third continued down stream in the same general direction
as before.

The sagacious Shawanoe suspected the truth; the single Indian had
gone to look after a canoe or something which lay close to the
river, while the others were about to engage in a hunt of so kind.
The discovery pleased Deerfoot; for, beside indicating that there
was a boat for him to take it showed that he had but a single red
man to meet.

Within less than a hundred yards this solitary warrior was found. A
large canoe, evidently belonging to the three warriors, or possibly
a larger party, lay against the bank, with one end on the land,
while the other projected several yards into the river. In the
stern sat an Indian, after the fashion of a civilized man; he was
astride of the end, his moccasins banging over, one on either side,
his back toward shore, while he leaned forward and sleepily watched
a fish-line, one end of which rested in his hand, while the other
was far out in the Mississippi.

His attitude was as lazy and contented as though he were a white
man. It looked as if he had chosen the sport while his companions
were off on a hunt that required more effort and exertion.

Deerfoot stood only a few seconds, when he smiled more fully than he
had done for along time. He saw his opportunity, and he proceeded
straightway to "improve" it.

He stole forward, as quietly as a shadow, until he had gone the few
yards intervening. All that he feared was that the aboriginal
fisherman might obtain a bite before the boat was reached. If he
could catch a fish on his bone hook, he would be likely to fling him
into the canoe behind him and to turn himself around.

From the moment Deerfoot placed eyes on the motionless figure, he
felt he was master of the situation; but, with his usual quickness,
he had formed his plan and was desirous of carrying it out in spirit
and in letter.

Reaching the canoe, he laid his long bow on the ground beside it;
then, stooping over, he seized the gunwale with both hands and,
quickly as the blow of a panther, he jerked the craft slightly more
than a foot further up the bank.

The result was inevitable. The astonished Miami sprawled forward
from his seat and went down into the muddy Mississippi out of sight,
doubtless frightening away the fish that was nibbling at his bait.

"Hooh!" he groaned, ejecting the water from his mouth as he came to
view, and following it with an expression much in the nature of an
expletive.

Only a couple of strokes were needed to bring him into the shallow
water, when he rose to his feet and walked out upon dry land. Up to
that moment he did not know the cause of his mishap, for the author
stooped down on the upper side of the craft; but as the Miami
stepped out, Deerfoot rose to his full height, with his keen
tomahawk grasped in his left hand--that being his best one.

The dripping warrior, to put it mildly, was astonished, when he
found himself confronted by the stranger. He stood staring and
speechless, while the mouth of Deerfoot again expanded.

"Does my brother's heart grow weary that he seeks to urge the fish
to bite his hook before they are ready?" asked the Shawanoe in the
Miami tongue.

It was all clear to the victim, and, when he understood the trick
that had been played upon him, his anger showed through the paint
daubed on his face.

"The Shawanoe is a fool," he replied. "His heart is filled with joy
when he acts like a papoose."

"But he will now act like a warrior," said Deerfoot, in a sterner
manner. "The dogs of the Miamis broke the canoe of the Shawanoe and
stole his blanket."

"The Shawanoe is the friend of the white man," said the other with a
sneer, though not without some misgiving, for, to use the language
of the West, the young warrior "had the drop on him." He had only
to make one movement in order to drive the glittering weapon through
the skull of the Miami, as though it were mere card-board.

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