The Hunters of the Ozark, Edward Sylvester Ellis [best novel books to read .txt] 📗

and was not absent ten minutes when he came back with a plump turkey, whose neck he had wrung.

Since the lads had heard no report of a gun, they wanted to know by what means he had secured it. He replied that he had stood behind a tree and repeated the call until a group of the birds approached within a few rods, when he made a dash among them, and seized his prize before she could spread her wings and fly--all of which told of a dexterity that few others possessed.

In a brief while, a good dinner was boiled over the coals, a short rest taken, and the three were on the road again, it being their wish to travel further than on the day before. Had Deerfoot been alone he would have broken into a trot that would have doubled the distance before the set of sun.

But the trail over which they were walking grew rougher. It was so rocky in some places that it must have tried the endurance of the horses ridden by the hunters. Instead of being direct, it grew very sinuous, made so by the efforts to avoid many formidable obstacles that rose in front. All this was of little account to the dusky leader, though of necessity it prolonged the journey, and he was obliged to slacken his pace to suit those who were less accustomed to such work.

It was about the middle of the afternoon, when they were checked again by coming abreast of a stream that was too broad and deep to be forded. The trail, however, instead of entering the water, turned up the bank, and the three, under the leadership of Deerfoot, did the same.

This diversion continued for fully two hundred yards, when the path struck the water, the point on the other side where the horsemen had emerged being in plain sight. The former method was resorted to, and in less than an hour after reaching the creek the three had safely ferried themselves across. It was neither so broad nor so deep as the other, but it delayed them fully as much.

Within a half mile from the stream last crossed they came upon the trail of the whole Winnebago party. Just as Deerfoot suspected, they had taken another route, and had come back to the main path a good many miles away from where the Wolf left it the night before.

His experienced eye told him that they were close upon the company, who numbered precisely twelve--several more than he supposed. Whether the Wolf was with them could not of course be learned until a glimpse of the party themselves was obtained.

Matters had now taken such a shape that the Shawanoe told his companions that the utmost care must be used, since they were liable to stumble on the very ones whom they were anxious to avoid. He instructed them to allow him to keep fully a hundred feet in advance, and never to diminish the distance without orders from him.

This was a prudent step, and Fred and Terry did their best to carry out the wishes of their guide, who walked on at a moderate pace, without once glancing back at his friends, who he knew would respect what he had said to them.

Bear in mind that this arrangement was made toward the close of the afternoon of an autumn day. The three had not traveled more than two miles, with the leader so far in advance, when the gathering gloom became such that he would not have been visible to his followers had he not fallen back so as to keep in sight.

Finally, when less than a dozen yards separated them, and the graceful figure of the young Shawanoe looked like a shadow gliding in advance, he suddenly halted. The eyes of the boys were upon him, and they saw him raise his hand as a signal to stop; they obeyed without so much as a whisper.

He stood like a statue for two or three minutes, and then, turning his head without moving his body, beckoned them to approach. They could barely see the motion of his arm, as they stepped softly to his side; but before reaching him, they caught the glimmer of a light among the trees, somewhat in front and to the right. When they stood near him, they saw it more distinctly.

In a partly open space, near the invariable stream of water, were a group of Indians, some stretched lazily on the ground, some squatted like tailors, two busy cooking something over the fire, and nearly every one smoking long-stemmed, stone pipes. They were a sturdy set of warriors, who were likely to give a good account of themselves in a hunt or fight, and both Fred and Terry knew who they were before Deerfoot, with his arm extended and his finger pointing toward them, said:

"It is the camp of the Winnebagos!"


CHAPTER XXII.

"KEEP TO THE TRAIL"

It was an interesting scene on which the three youths looked. There were a dozen Winnebago warriors lolling and smoking in camp, while two of their number were preparing their supper, by half-broiling it over the blaze and coals. Fred and Terry stood in silence by the side of Deerfoot, gazing upon the strangers with a curiosity such as no other sight could have inspired.

A small tree interfered somewhat with the view of Fred, and he took a step forward. Immediately the Shawanoe put out his arm and shook his head to signify that that would not do; they were as close as was safe. Then Fred shifted his position a little to one side, as you feel like doing in a public hall when a column is in front of you. To this Deerfoot offered no objection, and the lad was satisfied.

"Begorrah, but there's the spalpeen!" whispered Terry, in some excitement, pointing his finger toward the camp, and with no thought of the uselessness of such an act.

The others knew that he referred to the Wolf, who had caused them so much trouble, but they had already seen him. He was standing at one end of the group, with folded arms, while he scowled, and the firelight fell upon his features with such directness that the scowl could be plainly seen. He appeared to be looking at the two warriors busy with the fire, though more than likely his gaze fell indifferently upon them and the rest, all of whom were in his field of vision.

The tomahawk showed in his girdle, but of course he was without any other weapon, and Terry could not avoid a smile when he noted it and he had to say something despite the displeasure of Deerfoot.

"Do ye observe his left eye and the end of his nose where one of me blows landed? What could be foiner than the swell that ye see there? He will naad to use no black paint for siveral days, as me grandfather--"

At this point Deerfoot deliberately placed his hand over the mouth of the speaker, abruptly ending what he proposed to say.

Now, nothing could be clearer than that if the Winnebago party were in such plain view of the three youths, the latter in turn were liable to be discovered by them. They were standing beyond the circle of firelight, where the darkness screened them from sight, and, if one of the red men should look in that direction, he could not have seen them; but there was the probability that any moment one of the warriors might start out to reconnoiter their surroundings, in which event, discovery was almost certain. Besides, the exuberant spirits of Terry Clark taught Deerfoot that it was unwise to trust him in such a delicate position.

Altogether, the time spent in watching the Winnebagos was barely ten minutes. During that period, some of those reclining on the leaves got up, walked about and sat down again; others kept their feet, and one stepped to where the two were busy with a steak of some kind that they were broiling over the coals, as though his hunger was making him impatient.

But the Wolf never stirred a muscle, and Terry afterward insisted that he did not wink his eyes, so motionless was he. The same scowl added hideousness to the painted face, and it was easy to understand that his meditations were of any thing but a pleasant nature.

Turning his back upon the camp, Deerfoot motioned for them to go back. They did so, he following on their heels until not the faintest glimmer of the fire could be seen. Then he led them by a round-about course to the trail beyond the camp, and explained his wishes.

He was now free to admit that there was reason to believe the Winnebagos intended an assault upon the three hunters among the foothills of the Ozark, and who were unsuspicious of such danger. Of course the Shawanoe had no direct knowledge that such was their purpose, but he was so convinced that he meant to take the utmost precautions against it.

He therefore proposed that he should linger near the camp until he could learn of a verity what their intentions were. If they meant to attack the Hunters of the Ozark, then he would hasten to give warning to Linden, Hardin and Bowlby, who, re-enforced by the three youths, would be strong enough to beat off an Indian party twice as strong.

In the meantime, Deerfoot wished Terry and Fred to push toward the camp with all the speed of which they were capable, he promising to follow as soon as he could. They had walked almost the entire day with scarcely a halt on the road, but he wished them to keep on into the night so long as they could. They would need nothing to eat before morning and between sundown and sunup they ought to make a long advance on their journey.

You will probably wonder why (the situation being such as was explained by Deerfoot), he did not keep company with the lads and help them in their forced march to the mountains. One reason was that he was convinced in the first place that a demonstration would be made by the Winnebagos against the Hunters of the Ozark, and he wanted to get both boys--especially Terry--out of the neighborhood as soon as he could; for their presence hampered his own actions. The safest place for them was in the strong cabin to the southward, and they could not get there too soon.

Yet they would certainly travel as fast in his company as by themselves, and Fred and Terry, therefore, could not see why he should stay behind instead of going with them; yet Deerfoot the Shawanoe never took a step of that kind without the best reason for it, as you will admit when it is made clear to you. To give this explanation would require such a long diversion from the thread of my story that you would be impatient. Before I am through with the history of Deerfoot, you shall know not only the reason for his course but for several other things that have been referred to in the stories told about him.

The confidence of Fred Lincoln and Terry Clark in the wonderful young Shawanoe was so perfect that they did not question any decision, no matter how little they failed to see its reason. If what he asked was in their power, they would bound at the chance of doing it, just as they did now.

He had a parting warning to give.

"Let my brothers make