The Lost Trail, Edward Sylvester Ellis [great reads txt] 📗
- Author: Edward Sylvester Ellis
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With a grim enjoyment that can hardly be understood, Deerfoot stood in the background and watched the antics of the warrior who had wrapped the bear-skin about his shoulders and body. He could not avoid a feeling of admiration for the cleverness with which the front was arranged, so as to resemble that of the beast, but he felt not the slightest fear that the trick would succeed. It was such an antiquated stratagem that he wondered it was attempted, especially after the defenders had given so convincing evidence of their watchfulness.
His amazement, therefore, may be appreciated when he saw the creature slowly make his way to the edge of the fort, look down on the boys, and then back a few steps and drop to ground.
He could not believe they had failed penetrate a disguise which could scarcely hope to deceive, except under very favoring circumstance but concluded they must have refrained good reason of their own.
While these troublesome thoughts were in the mind of Deerfoot, he kept his eye on the Miami, whose scant clothing had not dried after his voluntary plunge into the Mississippi, from the bow of his canoe. His victim acted as though he entertained some doubts as to the identity of the individual that did not mingle with the main body of the warriors.
Deerfoot knew that if he did suspect the truth, his curiosity was likely to cause trouble. The time had come when it was the part of wisdom to withdraw.
At last the Miami walked toward the enclosure, where two of his own tribe were talking same number of the Shawanoes. He said something which stirred up matters at once. All five began talking vigorously, and then they turned take a look at the youthful warrior.
He was gone, having vanished as silently as he appeared on the scene, and it was well that he did so, for the deception could have been carried no further.
Within the succeeding ten minutes the report of a rifle came from the direction of the river. Then a second was heard from another point in the wood, and again a third report awoke the echoes among the trees.
The red men did not know what it meant. All the surviving members of the two parties were together, and they could not understand who the new comers were. They were probably those of their own race, though the discomforting possibility remained that they might be white men on their way to the help of the beleaguered boys.
The truth was, Deerfoot was convinced that if Jack and Otto were not extricated from their peril long before night, no hope could remain for them. It was so clearly in the power of the red men to capture or destroy them whenever they chose to put forth the effort, that he knew they would not wait until night.
There were trees on every hand which would shelter the sharp-shooters. If they ensconced themselves among the limbs of these, the lads would be shut off from the chance of protecting themselves, for on whichsoever side of the space they stood, they would be within the range of one or two of the gunners.
The plan which he next proceeded to put into execution was in the mind of Deerfoot from the first moment he learned of the situation of the endangered ones. It was impossible to succeed without a perfect understanding with his friends, for they necessarily had an important part to play in the programme.
"Deerfoot will send them a message," he said to himself, with a throb of pride over the facility at his command; "that will tell everything."
Making his way to a safe point in the forest, he sat down on the ground, tore off a piece from the paper which he carried with his Bible, and with red chalk, sharpened to a point, he proceeded to write the words intended only for the eyes of his friends within the enclosure. The paper was twisted around the arrow, just back of the bead, and he then was ready to adopt the means which he had employed more than once in somewhat similar situations.
Jack Carleton walked across the slight space that separated him from the arrow, quivering in the log on the opposite side of the enclosure. He knew that it had come from the bow of the young Shawanoe, who displayed his extraordinary skill by sending it at such an elevation that it passed over the heads of his friends.
"It is a message from Deerfoot," repeated the Kentuckian, as he drew out the missile and unwrapped the paper wound around it. "Let us see what he has to say."
The paper being unfolded, showed the following words in the small but graceful hand of the Shawanoe:
"Let my brothers listen! They will hear one gun; they will hear another, and then will sound a third! Let them listen closer, for they are meant for their ears! Then will come shouts and the sound of a gun the fourth time! Let my brothers climb over the logs and run as fast as they can to the river. Close by the ash that lies with its limbs in the water, they will find the canoe; they must make haste to paddle across or it will be too late. They must not wait for Deerfoot. He will take care of himself. Let my brothers listen and be not slow."
"There's no trouble to understand what he means," said Jack, after reading the words aloud.
"What ish it dot he does?" asked Otto, not quite certain as to the purpose of their dusky ally.
"He means to start a panic. He is going to try to scare the red men so that they will scatter and give us a chance to get away."
The German lad shook his bead.
"Nix. He can't do dot."
"It looks to me like a wild scheme, but as it is the last hope, we must be ready to give all the help we can, for I don't know of any one who ought to be more interested than we. Sh! What was that?"
Just then it was so still that the slightest noise made by a falling fragment of a stick reached their ears. Looking quickly around they saw that the bit of wood which had been used to close the orifice between the logs had fallen or had been pushed out and lay on the ground. The narrow slit would have shown daylight through it had it not been closed by altogether a different object or rather series of objects; for when the astonished boys contemplated the spot they caught the gleam of two pairs of eyes peering at them.
The Indians had found the opening and were scrutinizing the interior. The glitter of the four orbs which filled the crevice caused most peculiar sensations on the part of the boys who saw them.
"Ain't you not ashamed mit yourselves!" exclaimed Otto, quickly bringing his gun to his shoulder and firing directly through the opening.
"I teaches you mit better manners."
But, quick as he was, the warriors were quicker, and the darkened slit became light with the noiseless speed of a twinkling sunbeam. The Indians needed no second intimation of what was coming.
The crisis which followed this shot was more imminent than the defenders supposed. The assailants had become convinced that they were throwing away valuable time, and they assembled in a group to consider the best means of forcing matters to an issue.
It was at that moment that the report of the gun was heard from the direction of the river. Shawanoe and Miami suspended conversation and, looking inquiringly at each other, listened.
A brief while after, the second shot was heard from another point, followed by a third from still another direction.
"There are strangers in the woods," remarked one of the warriors, in a guarded voice.
"Our brothers have come to look for us."
As suddenly as the crash of a thunderbolt, the Shawanoe war-whoop broke on the air, followed by what seemed to be the shouts of white men.
Then a voice of mortal terror shouted in the same tongue:
"The white men are coming! The white men are coming!"
The sound of hurrying feet was heard, as though a dozen warriors were fleeing in hot haste from a dreaded foe. The effect intended by this diversion of Deerfoot promised the brilliant success he hoped rather than expected. One of the savages standing close to the fallen tree, started with an exclamation and dashed off in an opposite direction from the point whence came the alarming sounds. The effect was contagious: the others followed pell-mell, every one plunging forward with the frantic desperation which the bravest man will show in moments of panic.
It need not be said that Jack Carleton and Otto Relstaub listened to these favorable sounds with breathless interest. They understood the stratagem of Deerfoot, and could not feel very hopeful of its success; but the noise of hastily departing warriors thrilled them with delight.
"They are running!" exclaimed the young Kentuckian, with beaming face; "who would have thought it?"
"I dinks it time dot we vasn't doing the same," said Otto, who, catching the top of the wall with both hands, drew himself upward and peered over. He was gratified with the sight of the two hindmost warriors just vanishing from sight. The whole party were panic-stricken.
Otto turned his head to tell the joyful news to his companion, when he saw that he had also drawn himself up beside him. The fourth report of a gun was heard.
"Now is your time," said Jack: "over with you; I'll hand you your gun."
Otto lost no time in scrambling over, and his feet scarcely touched the ground when his rifle whizzed end over end after him. It required all his activity to dodge it, and, while doing so, he received a sound thump from the gun of his friend, who seemed to be flinging weapons around with wild recklessness.
One important fact was clear to the boys: the panic of the Indians was certain to be short-lived. Before fleeing far, they would suspect the trick played on them, and would return with tenfold more fierceness than before.
The hearts of the boys throbbed high with hope when they found themselves outside the enclosure which had served them as a prison, and they knew the irrevocable step had been taken; they must now go forward at all hazards.
The Mississippi was near, and thither they made all haste, remembering the instructions of Deerfoot as conveyed through the note borne to them on the wings of the arrow. Jack, who was the fleeter of foot, kept slightly in advance, though he had no purpose of leaving his friend behind.
"Dot ish one good things as nefer vos," Otto took occasion to say, while panting close behind him: "dere ish not so many of demi blagued vines dot cotches me all de times ven I vos—oh mine gracious!"
As is too often the case, the lad rejoiced too soon, for the words were yet in his mouth when the very mishap he referred to overtook him. A running vine became entangled around his ankles, and he went forward on his hands and knees; but he was not injured, and speedily rose again.
In spite of their imminent peril, the young Kentuckian could not repress a smile when he glanced back and saw Otto picking himself up; but the smile was gone instantly, for the situation was anything but a mirthful one.
"Here we are!" called out Jack, halting on the bank of the river and glancing around him. "But where is the canoe?"
"I dinks the first things ish to find the ash tree what ish not laying up but standing down," suggested Otto, moving along the stream.
It was manifest that the boat could not be found until after locating the landmark named by the young Shawanoe; for it was certain Deerfoot had taken care to hide the canoe where some search would be necessary to find it.
But in specifying the fallen tree, Deerfoot gave no idea of where it was to be found. He must have believed it was so conspicuous that no direction was required.
During the few seconds that the friends stood irresolute, they used ears as well as eyes. Suddenly the whoop of an Indian was heard a brief distance away.
"My gracious!" whispered Jack; "they're coming back! They have discovered the trick."
"Dot ish so; let's jump on to
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