Books: The Lost Trail
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Edward S. Ellis >> The Lost Trail
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"I only wish we were on the other side," said the young Kentuckian,
who at that moment caught the gleam of the Mississippi through the
trees in front.
CHAPTER X
AT BAY
While Jack and Otto were talking in guarded tones, and carefully
picking their way through the wood, each stopped and became silent
at the same instant. They saw nothing, but their ears told them
some person or animal was approaching through the undergrowth behind
them.
Within the same minute the creature revealed himself in the form of
a large, black bear, which was lumbering along unmindful that
enemies were near.
"Mebbe he don't be an Indian," whispered Otto, who knew much of the
cunning of the red men.
The same thought had occurred to the Kentuckian, who held his gun at
full cock, until he should be able to learn the truth. While thus
employed be could not help reflecting on the improbability of such a
clumsy artifice being that time, for there was no call for the
attempt, no prospect of deceiving two persons who displayed such
excellent woodcraft.
Jack speedily saw that the bear was a genuine one, probably on his
way to the river. There no occasion for shooting him, and the
hunters stepped aside to allow him to pass. Jack kept eye on him,
however, for it being the spring of year, he had not been long out
of his hibernating quarters, and was likely to be lean, hungry,
fierce.
Bruin caught sight of the hunters, while several rods off, and
throwing up his snout, took a look at them, as though uncertain of
the species to which they belonged.
"He looks pig, don't he?" said Otto, referring to his size, and half
inclined to give him a shot. "One pullet would make him put up dot
snout down."
"Let him alone, so long as he doesn't disturb us. He isn't half so
dangerous as the Indians and they would be likely to rush upon us
before you could reload your gun."
Otto saw the prudence of his friend's words, and he not only let
down the hammer of his rifle, but emphasized his intention by
turning his back upon the bear.
The huge beast seemed disposed to attack the boys. It may be that
the plump, ruddy-faced Gorman looked specially tempting to him while
in his hungry state, for Jack fancied that it was he on whom his
large eyes were fixed with a peculiar lodging.
The bear took several steps toward the couple, and Jack cocked his
gun, believing he would have to fire. Otto, seeing the movement,
turned, but at that moment the animal, if he had actually any
purpose of opening hostilities, changed his mind, moving off to one
side, and continued his awkward gait toward the river.
The boys watched him until be reached the stream and began lapping
the water, when they resumed their withdrawal from the spot, still
walking in a northerly course along the right bank of the
Mississippi.
Both were anxious to get as far away as they could, in the hope that
they would be able to keep a safe space between themselves and the
red men, whom they held in such fear.
Their uneasiness was not lessened when the sharp crack of a rifle
broke upon their ears, from a point not far down the stream. It was
followed by another report deeper in the woods, and then several
whoops came from different parts of the forest, all being within a
short radius.
The boys could not guess the cause of the firing, unless they were
meant as signals, but they were sure the cries referred to them.
Most likely, as they viewed it, they were meant to direct the
actions of the parties, who must have felt that it only needed a
little care and energy to capture the youths that, up to that time,
had baffled the enmity of both the Miamis and Shawanoes.
The result was, that Jack and Otto, keeping as near as was prudent
to the river, pushed on as fast as they could. A species of running
vine close to the ground caused them much annoyance, the more chubby
one falling forward several times on his hands and knees.
They had traveled a short distance only, when the signals that had
so alarmed them were heard again. The Indiana called to each other
by means of the whoops and shouts, as intelligible to those for whom
they were meant as if they were so many spoken words.
The lads could not fail to observe that they were considerably
nearer than before. The red men were evidently converging in their
pursuit, and meant to force the struggle to an issue with the least
delay possible.
"We must travel faster," said Jack Carleton, compressing his lips,
after glancing behind him. "This has settled down to a regular race
between us."
"Dot is so," assented Otto, sprawling forward again on his hands and
knees, from the running vine which caught, like fine wire, around
his ankles. "If it Vos who falls down the most and cracks his head,
den I would beat dem, don't it?"
"We shall have to make a fight for they can travel a great deal
faster than we--"
"Let's jump mit the river; we gets so far off afore dey learns vot
we don't do."
It seemed to be the only recourse left to the fugitives, and they
turned toward the Mississippi. But at that very moment Jack caught
sight of a pile of logs only a short distance ahead.
It seemed a direct interference of Providence, totally unexpected by
both. Whether the logs were the retreat of a friend or enemy could
only be guessed. The probabilities were that the former was the
case, since the structure was not of the kind made by Indians.
Jack caught the arm of Otto and whirled him back.
"Vot ain't de matter?" asked the German, half angrily at the check,
when there was so much necessity for haste.
"See?" asked Jack, in turn, pointing to the logs as seen through the
trees.
Otto nodded his head. It was enough, and he made a desperate rush
to reach the refuge, catching his foot and falling headlong again.
"Dunderation!" he exclaimed; "wonder if dere ain't no blamed vines
that I hef not fall over and proke mine nose."
The whoops of the Miamis and Shawanoes sounded still closer; they
were pressing the pursuit with utmost vigor, and were upon the heels
of the fugitives.
The Kentuckian, who continually glanced back, caught sight of more
than one figure flitting among the trees. Suddenly something red
gleamed; it was the flash of a gun, and, at the same moment the
sharp report rang out, the bullet passed between Jack and Otto, who
were striving desperately to get beyond reach before a fair aim
could tempt their enemies.
The second view which Jack caught of the shelter told him it was
simply four walls of logs, a dozen feet square, half as high, and
without any roof. When, why, and by whom they had been put up was a
mystery.
But no oasis in the flaming desert could be more welcome to the
traveler dying with thirst than was this simple structure to the
panting fugitives. Jack Carleton, with a recklessness caused by the
imminence of his peril, flung his gun over into the enclosure,
sprang upward so as to grasp the topmost log, and scrambled after it
with the headlong impetuosity of a wounded animal.
Otto was only a second or two behind him, and, .puffing and gasping,
he dropped squarely on his head and shoulders, rolled over, caught
up his gun again, and sprang to his feet.
"Dot's de way I always climb down stairs," he exclaimed, raising the
hammer of his gun and holding it ready to fire on the first
appearance of a foe.
"It's all well enough, if you ain't hurt, but look out for the red
men; they're right on us."
"Dot's vot I don't dinks," replied Otto, who, still panting from his
exertion, seemed to have recovered his coolness; "if dey climbs up
dot vall, den dey run agin de, pall of mine gun and one of dem gets
hurt, and it ain't de pall-don't it?"
The pursuers were so close to the fugitives that the tramp of their
moccasins was heard at the moment the boys braced themselves for the
shock which they were sure would come within the next few seconds.
The sight of a flying foe intensifies the courage of the pursuer,
and it may have been that the Shawanoe who discharged his gun at the
lads, when they were so close to the shelter, believed he had
wounded one at least, and that a vigorous assault could not fail to
end the struggle speedily. There may, in fact, have been a dozen
causes which incited him to a bravery and personal effort greater
than that of any of his companions.
"They'll try to overwhelm us," said Jack. "Hold your gun ready."
The words were yet in his mouth, when a peculiar, soft scratching,
which was ended the instant it began, told that one of the warriors
had inserted the toe of his moccasin in a crevice of the logs, with
the purpose of climbing over into the enclosure.
"I'll attend to him if there's only one," added Jack, naturally
fearful of throwing away a shot.
"I dinks I 'tends him mit myself--"
Suddenly the painted face of a Shawanoe Indian rose to view. One
hand had grasped the top log, and he was drawing himself rapidly
upward with the purpose of leaping over. The countenance was
frightful beyond description--the streaks and circles in red,
yellow, and black, from amid which glared the black eyes, with an
expression of ferocity like that of a Bengal tiger, and the white
teeth, gleaming between the parted lips, drawn far back at the
corners, gave a hideous fierceness to the visage that would have
appalled a brave man who saw it for the first time.
"I dinks I 'tends him mit myself--"
Just as Otto Relstaub reached that point in his remark, he pulled
the trigger of his rifle. A rasping howl followed, and the horrible
face vanished a speedily as if the owner had been standing on a
trap-door, which was sprung.
"Yaw--I dinks I 'tends mit him," repeated Otto, coolly lowering his
gun and looking at the spot where the head and shoulders were
visible an instant before.
"Load up quick!" said Jack, who held his cocked rifle in hand while
his eye glanced hastily along the upper part of the logs, "don't
lose a second."
The thump of the body was heard as the Shawanoe--dead before he
could fall the brief space--struck the ground on the outside. At
the same moment a second warrior (a Miami that time), drew himself
upward close to the place from which the Shawanoe had dropped. He
rose until his tufted head, his sloping forehead and his gleaming
eyes appeared just above the horizon of the enclosure. Staring
downward, he looked straight into the muzzle of a rifle, held by a
young Kentuckian, who had just become aware of his presence.
Down went the Indian, possibly with a suspicion that his bronzed
skull was also perforated, as he fell across the limp body beneath
him; but Jack Carleton had not fired, not because the opportunity
was not inviting enough nor because he felt the least scruple about
shooting one of the savages who were thirsting for his life, but he
was afraid to discharge his piece before Otto should force another
bullet home.
Repeating and percussion rifles were unknown at that day, and it
took much valuable time to reload musket or gun after its discharge.
Knowing this, the infuriated redskins were likely to make a rush
whenever they knew that the weapons within the enclosure were
unloaded.
Inasmuch as the boys possessed no other firearms, it will be seen
that in such an event they would be helpless. Indeed, it was
impossible for them to hold out if their assailants determined to
force matters. They had but to leap over the walls, as could be
easily done, and the contest would be decided right speedily; that
decision must inevitably be against the daring defenders.
CHAPTER XI
A PRIMITIVE FORT
The sharp repulse of the Indians delayed rush which, as has been
said, could ended only in the discomfiture of the defenders. The
occurrence proved that the first warriors to scale the walls were
certain to share the fate of him who had already made the attempt.
With such knowledge it would be unnatural to expect any Shawanoe or
Miami to throw himself into the breach, since, as a rule, men are
not anxious to sacrifice themselves for others.
The brief respite thus afforded Jack and Otto enabled them to make a
closer survey of the shelter which had presented itself so
providentially to them. They found little not apparent to their
terrified gaze when they scrambled within. There were the four
walls and nothing more. With that morbid interest in trifling
things which often manifests itself in the most critical moments,
Otto counted the logs on each of the four sides.
"Dere be nine dere," said he, indicating the western side, "ten
dere, and nine and ten on de other sides."
"That must be right," remarked Jack, "for I make them the same."
"Tis funny dat we bofe counts dem at de same tine, when each one is
not doing it togedder."
The only entrance to the enclosure, as it seems proper to call it,
was the one used by the boys. Nothing to suggest a door, or any
purpose of making one, was to be seen on any side of the walls.
It was not impossible that some hunters, who had encamped in the
vicinity, had started the structure with the intention of roofing it
over, and of providing some original means of ingress and egress
which was not apparent to the little garrison.
Convinced that they would not be disturbed for some time to come,
Jack hastily searched for loopholes, with which it would seem the
structure ought to have been provided, but nothing of the kind was
discovered.
Whoever had hewn and put together the logs, had done so with
admirable skill. The gaps in the ends had been cut with a nicety
that made a perfect fit in every case. Had the house been
completed, it certainly would have been a substantial one.
While the absence of loop-holes removed to a great extent the fear
of treacherous shots from the outside, yet in another respect it was
an annoyance. The boys could see nothing of their assailants. The
sense of hearing and conjecture it lelf were all that were left to
inform them of what was going on so near them.
It was not to be supposed that the Indians, after driving the youths
into shelter, would leave them undisturbed. The death of one of
their warriors was enough to rouse the passion of revenge to the
highest point--a necessity which, as shown by the incidents already
narrated, did not exist.
When Jack and Otto were given a little time for reflection, they
were forced to see that their situation was hopeless. Every
advantage was with their enemies, who, if they chose to save
themselves the risk of a determined assault, had only to wait.
Without food or water, with no means of leaving the place, the hour
must surely come when exhausted nature would compel this little
garrison to yield.
The boy's were many miles from the settlements on either side of the
river, and there was no means of sending word to their friends of
the dire strait in which they were placed. Even could such message
reach Coatesville, or the cabins on the other side of the
Mississippi, several days must necessarily elapse before assistance
could arrive.
Jack Carleton's thoughts naturally turned to Deerfoot the Shawanoe.
He had heard so many stories of his wonderful woodcraft and skill
that he leaned upon him, when he was present to lean upon; but,
hopeful as was the nature of the young Kentuckian, he could gather
no crumbs of comfort in that direction.
Deerfoot had crossed the river in the Miami canoe, and could not be
expected to return until under cover of darkness. Even then he must
be powerless. There are limits to all human skill, and what greater
folly than to expect him to release two boys, shut in a log
enclosure, and surrounded by a score or less of vigilant Indian
warriors.
But it was not the nature of either Jack or Otto, to yield without a
struggle. So long as they could fight off the dread end, so long
they would put, forth every effort to do so.
For fifteen minutes after the discharge of gun absolute silence
prevailed. Not the slightest rustling told of the crouching savages
without. The boys leaned against the logs of waited and listened.
During the interval, the young Kentuckian became filled with
irresistible curiosity to learn what their enemies were doing. It
was certain they were plotting mischief, but he could form no idea
of its nature.
How was he to gain the coveted knowledge? Manifestly there was but
the one way.
"Otto," he said in a low voice, "I'm going to climb up the logs and
look over."
"And got your head blown off, dot's vot you does!" exclaimed his
horrified friend.
"I'll come to that sooner or later any way," was the reply; "but I'm
not going to be shot; I'm not such a dunce as that; I mean to take
one glance over the logs, and will draw back so quickly that no one
will get a chance to shoot me."
Otto protested, but, seeing it was useless, gave over and made the
sensible suggestion that, instead of climbing up the wall and
thereby probably making known what he was doing, he should stand on
the shoulders of Otto. That would give him enough elevation, and
the lad added:
"If I sees any noise vot I don't like, den I drops you so quick dot
you vill bump the ground so hard dot it bulges out mit China on de
other side."
At the very moment Jack made ready to avail himself of his friend's
support, they heard a movement on the part of the Indians, the
meaning of which was not understood.
A number of them seemed to be moving heavily over the ground, as
though carrying some weighty body or marching in military step. The
boys listened closely, but it was impossible to tell what it meant.
The noise added to Jack's curiosity, and, leaning his gun against
the logs, he said"
"Help me up, Otto; I'm bound to find out what all that is about."
It was an easy matter to mount the shoulders of his young friend,
whose strength would have supported double his weight. Jack found,
as he anticipated, that he would be able to look over the logs
without difficulty. Steadying himself by placing his hand against
the wall, he slowly raised his head until almost on a level with the
top, when he quietly looked over.
No movement of the kind was expected by the Indians, and the face
was withdrawn before any one of them could fire.
Under such circumstances, a person can see a great deal in an
exceedingly brief space of time. Jack Carleton learned much about
that which had excited his curiosity.
Inasmuch as the walls had been put up from material cut in the
immediate vicinity, a number of stumps surrounded the structure,
beside which a single unused log was lying. It had been cut
entirely off at the base, several of the lower limbs trimmed, but
most of the bushy top remained. It looked as if the builders had
been interrupted while at work, or they had voluntarily abandoned it
for something else.
Some six or eight warriors had lifted this log from the ground and
were laboriously hearing it In the direction of the fort (if the
name can be permitted). Others were moving hither and thither, as
though they enjoyed viewing the job more than assisting with it.
One of them caught sight of the face of the young Kentuckian and
brought his gun to his shoulder; but, quick as he was, he was just a
moment too late. When he was ready to fire, the target was gone.
"They're going to batter down the logs!" exclaimed Jack, dropping
lightly to the ground, and taking possession of his gun; "they're
carrying a log toward us, and mean to hammer these down about our
heads."
"What for they don't want to do dot?"
"It seems to me it would be a good plan for them to tumble our house
about our heads."
"I don't dink they doos dots," persisted the German, and he proved
to be right in his surmise.
With great labor the warriors bore the heavy tree forward, so that
the larger end was against the side of the fort. Then, instead of
using it as a battering ram, they lifted it higher until, with an
exertion that must have been very great, it was raised even with the
log wall. A combined effort rested the butt on the support, the
trunk sloping downward, until the top reached the ground, probably
thirty feet away.
As the butt was a foot in diameter, it will be seen that the work
must have been very onerous to the American Indian, who hates
physical labor as much as does the tramp of modern times.
Having accomplished what must be admitted to be quite a feat, the
toilers rested, while the boys looked up at the jagged end on the
logs, suggesting the head of some monster peering down upon them,
and speculated as to the meaning of the movement.
"Dot is so to help dem climbs to de top," said Otto, "or maybe they
will runs him across and play I see-saw.'
"It is to cover up some mischief on their part."
"If we only knowed when dey don't stands right under him, we would
shove off de end off and let him drop onto dem and mash 'em all!"
"It would take a good deal more strength than we have to do that,"
said Jack. "I would like to take another peep over the edge, but it
won't do, because they will be on the lookout for us."
"Dot's vot I didn't dink some times ago," maid Otto, meaning a
little different from what his words implied.
It was yet early in the day, and the boys could not but feel that
the crisis was sure to come long before night. The temperature was
mild and pleasant, no clouds floating in the space of clear sky
visible overhead. The friends kept their loaded and cocked guns in
their hands all the while and moved to and fro, in the circumscribed
space, on the alert for the first demonstration from the red men,
distressed by the consciousness that their cunning enemies were sure
to do the very thing which was least expected.
Jack Carleton noticed that whenever he stood with his back against
the logs, he could see the upper portions of the trees which grew
close to the structure. It occurred to him that some of the daring
warriors were liable to turn the fact to account. It would take no
great skill for one or two of them to climb into the limbs, from
which they would command a portion of the interior. No better
opportunity could be asked--in case they were not discovered by the
lads--to fire down upon them.
"I've been dinking of dot," replied Otto, when the matter was
mentioned; "and I dinks dot iss de tree yonder, and py gracious dere
is an Indian 'mong de limbs!"
This startling declaration was the truth. The friends were standing
at the eastern end of the structure, so that they looked in the
direction of the river, where towered a bushy oak, fully twenty feet
of the upper portion being in sight. Something was among the
branches, though the object could not be seen distinctly. Fortunate
it was that both were gazing toward the point when their suspicion
was first awakened.
"Yes, it is an Indian, as sure as I live!" added Jack, in an excited
manner. "Rash fool! He has sealed his fate, for I couldn't want a
fairer target. Leave him to me!"
"All right; I leaves him!"
The young Kentuckian was sure of his man, even though he was only
partially revealed, when the rifle was pointed. He took careful
aim, but while in the act of pressing the trigger, he lowered the
weapon, with the whispered exclamation.
"Great heavens! It is Deerfoot the Shawanoe!"
CHAPTER XII
AMONG THE TREE-TOPS
Jack Carleton was astounded. Up to that moment he was absolutely
certain that the young Shawanoe was on the other side of the
Mississippi, and would make no attempt to return to the Kentucky
shore until night. Yet he had not only recrossed, but was actually
within fifty feet of the enclosure, directly among his fiercest
enemies, who were assailing it, and, more remarkable than all, he
had climbed among the limbs of a tree, where he could gain a view of
the interior.
There was a minute or so during which the Kentuckian actually
doubted his own senses.
"He must be an enemy who closely resembles Deerfoot," was his
thought; "I will shoot him before he shoots me."
The probability of such being the case was increased by the fact
that the Indian had a rifle instead of a bow and arrow, and there
were some daubs of paint on his face; but, for all that, the warrior
was Deerfoot, as a second scrutiny convinced Jack and Otto beyond
all question.
"It ish Deerhead! I means Deerfoot," whispered the German lad;
"dinks a whirlwind lifs him out te boat and drops him in de tree;
what don't he vants?"
The young Shawanoe had managed to reach a place amid the foliage,
where, if he could be seen at all by those below, the view was
indistinct, while, by pushing the branches carefully aside in front
of his face, he was plainly revealed to his friends.
When Jack Carleton raised his gun and sighted at the object in the
tree, the latter swept aside the curtain in front and made a signal
with his hand, which declared his identity. Even though the paint
had been plentifully used by him, his regular features were
recognized when he smiled, and kept his hand waving in front of him
as though brushing smoke from his eyes.
"Yes, it's Deerfoot!" muttered Jack, lowering his weapon, and
staring with open mouth at the figure; "but things are getting
mixed, and I ain't exactly understand what it is all about." But
the situation was too critical on every hand for the young friends
to give way to the wonderment caused by the discovery. It speedily
became clear that while the Shawanoe dare not speak, he was trying
very hard to convey some message to his friends by means of
pantomime. Holding the gun of the Miami in one hand, he kept the
other going energetically, but neither Jack nor Otto could guess his
meaning.
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