The Lost Trail

CHAPTER XIII

A MESSAGE

Jack's chagrin was deepened the more he reflected upon the singular occurrence. Had he been outwitted by some skillfully-executed trick of the Indians, he would have accepted it as a mishap liable to overthrow the most experienced ranger of the woods; but he felt he ought to have known on the instant that no real bear would have attempted anything of the kind.

There was not a phase of the artifice which was not a reproach to him. Had the beast used the enclosure as a den or a retreat—a thing of itself incredible—the evidence of that fact would have been noticed the moment the boys climbed within. Then the likelihood of his clambering up the inclined tree in the presence of a war party of Shawanoes and Miamis, who had laid it for that very purpose, was too grotesquely absurd to be thought of with patience.

"Maybe it is as well," he said, with an effort to extract some consolation from the blunder; "for perhaps it will lead them to repeat the trick."

"Mine gracious! why didn't he drop down onto mine bead?" said Otto, stepping hastily away from his position; "he would have mashed me out as flat as—-as—as a big tree itself."

"I don't see why they didn't form a procession of bears and walk right over among us? We would have stood still and allowed them to hug us to death."

Admitting the only explanation that presented itself, Jack and Otto were not yet able fully to account for the proceeding. The labor of dragging the fallen trunk and lifting the butt to the wall, seemed too great to suppose it was to be used only to allow one of the Indians to climb to the top and peer over upon the boys beneath. The same thing could be accomplished by ascending one of the trees and avoiding the peril to which some of them had been exposed.

But, beside all that, what in reality was gained by taking a peep at the youths? The assailants knew they were there, and it could not matter a jot in what particular manner they were employing themselves. They could do nothing that could give those on the outside the slightest concern. It was the defenders whose interests required the anticipation of the movements of the warriors.

"I can't understand it," said Jack, standing close to his friend and talking in a low voice.

"So ain't I—harks!"

They listened a full minute, but the silence could not have been more profound. A gentle wind stirred the leaves overhead, and the tops of the trees nearest them could be seen slightly swaying against the clear sky beyond. The murmur of the great forest was like the voice of silence itself while the almost inaudible murmur of the Mississippi, sweeping so near, made itself manifest the first time since they had turned at bay.

The deep quiet was more impressive than the whoops and screeches of the warriors would have been. Under such circumstances, it boded mischief, and the utter uncertainty of its nature almost unsettled the remarkable courage both up to that moment had displayed.

"I hears nodings," added Otto; "I'mebbe don't go to sleep and wait for the night to come."

"Night is a good many hours off," replied Jack, with an uneasy glance at the sky, which showed him the sun had not yet reached meridian; "they can beat any people in the world waiting, when they have a mind to do so, but there's been no necessity of halting at all. If they had followed up over the logs it would have been all ended by this time."

"Yaw; they would have tumbled all over us, like a pig lot of trees falling down, but now I dinks they waits."

"Why will they do that?"

"If dey climbs over like as dey didn't does, don somepody git hurt, but if dey holds on till night den we'll have to climb over and falls on 'em."

This was Otto's manner of expressing what was inevitable, in case the besiegers should conclude to wait for the hour, which could not be very distant, when the defenders must lose all power of resistance.

The two did not forget to keep a continuous guard over the "watch-towers" of the enemy. Despite the repulse that had followed their attempts, it was by no means uncertain that they would not repeat them. The success of the bear trick was likely to tempt them to another essay in the same direction.

Otto Relstaub was leaning against the solid logs, his position such that the sun, which was now near meridian, shone directly upon him. His friend was almost immediately opposite—the two looking in each other's face, and exchanging words in low tones.

All at once the German became sensible of something cool just behind his neck.

"Vot ain't dot?" he said, putting up his hand as though to brush away some insect. Striking nothing, he turned to look.

"O-oh-oh!" he said, with a wondering expression, and an expansion of his big, honest eyes.

"There's an opening behind you," remarked his friend, moving hastily across to where he stood.

"Yaw; I sees him. Where's he been hiding himself when I voon't looking for him not a little while ago."

It certainly was curious that both boys should have made such a minute examination of the interior without finding the crevice between a couple of the logs, large enough to admit the passage of several bullets, and through which it would have been an easy matter for their enemies to shoot him who stood immediately in front.

The opening was some six inches wide, and no more than an eighth of an inch in height, resembling the crevice through which the captain looks out upon the enemy from the turret of a monitor. The fact that the red men had made no use of it was proof they did not suspect its existence, though that did not lessen the wonder of Otto that he had failed to find it himself, when making search.

"I see!" suddenly exclaimed Jack, who was attentively examining the place. "No wonder you missed it, for it was closed up. You must have rubbed one of your long ears against the stick which fits it so closely."

The piece with which it had been closed lay on the ground, at the feet of the boys, and made clear why they had failed to find that for which they had hunted so carefully.

Jack cut the stick apart with his knife and reinserted one half with a view of rendering it less liable to attract the notice of the besiegers. Then, quite sure that it was still unknown to them, he leaned forward with his eye to the opening.

"While I'm peeping here keep a lookout elsewhere, Otto."

His friend nodded, to signify he would be obeyed, and then Jack took a survey of his surroundings.

It so happened that he stood nearly under the tree which leaned against the wall, and thus gained a good view. He certainly saw enough to interest the most indifferent spectator. Five painted Indian warriors were seen standing around what seemed to be a dancing bear, who was gesticulating with his fore paws. Suddenly he cast off the shaggy hide and revealed the redskin who bad made the audacious ascent on the log in his disguise and peeped over on the boys below.

He seemed to be talking with his friends, while the whole half dozen were gesticulating with great energy, though, in spite of their excitement, their words were spoken so low that our friends could hear little more than the jumbling murmur of their voices.

No doubt more Indians were close at hand, but Jack saw none. He stealthily removed the other part of the stick, and thereby widened his view considerably, but he still failed to discover anything more. His vision took in the tree up which Deerfoot had climbed, but nothing was to be observed of him, or of any others gathered around the base.

Convinced that they were on the other side of the fort, Jack gave his whole attention to those before him.

It looked very much as if the author of the trick described was regaling his friends with an account of the highly successful manner in which he had played his points on the unsuspecting parties within the enclosure.

Jack was convinced that the rifle-shot which he and his friend heard, before rushing into the refuge, was the one that slew the bear. The Indians had hastily skinned the animal, probably completing the task near the time they became aware of the presence or rather the flight of the two boys. They had united in the pursuit, taking the bear-skin with them, and its use in the manner described was suggested by the prostrate tree lying so close to the logs, though even that theory failed fully to satisfy the questions of the youth.

Another interesting discovery was that he had seen two of the Shawanoes before. He had no difficulty in recognizing them as those who had shown such eagerness to follow the trail of the hunter that had shot the panther some distance back on the path.

The warrior who had masqueraded in the character of a big, black bear belonged to the Miami tribe, the representatives of the two joining hands in the crusade against the young pioneers. Neither the wounded red man nor the one who was past wounding was to be seen anywhere.

The vigorous and somewhat suppressed conversation among the group continued a few minutes and then abruptly stopped. The entire party seemed to have become "talked out" the same instant.

"Now they will hatch up some more mischief," was the thought of the watcher. "I don't think it likely they will send that bear up the tree again. If they do he will come down a little quicker than he goes up."

The sensations of the young Kentuckian were very peculiar, when he became aware that the Shawanoe who had displayed so much skill in hunting for his footprints in the twilight was looking directly toward him. He seemed in fact to be gazing into the eyes of the youth, as though he was striving to stare him out of countenance.

Jack would have been glad at that moment had the opening been hermetically sealed; but, hopeful that he was not seen, he held his place, not stirring in the slightest, and striving to the utmost to keep from winking his eyes.

The singular tableau lasted much less time than the boy imagined. All at once the hum of conversation was renewed, every one of the half dozen seeming to be seized with the impulse at the same moment. He who had been gazing so steadily at Jack looked in the face of one of his comrades. Instantly the boy moved to one side and replaced the rest of the stick, so that the crevice was closed once more.

"There," he exclaimed, with a sigh, "I never was placed in a more trying situation than that."

"Vot voon't dot?"

Jack quickly told his experience, and his companion shuddered and shrugged his shoulders in sympathy.

"Have you seen any of them among the trees?"

"No. They vill not go to roost, I dinks, till the sun comes down."

"It won't do to calculate on that. If they wait they will try some new tricks."

"Vot can't them try?"

"The trouble is we cannot guess. You know the Indians are so cunning that they will think out something—"

Zip!

Both boys started and looked around. Something had entered the enclosure like a bullet fired from a gun.

"Look!" whispered Jack, pointing to the other side, where an Indian arrow was seen sticking in the logs, at a point half way between the ground and the top.

"I dinks they used guns and not arrows," said the astonished, Otto, standing motionless and staring at the missile, whose barb was still trembling from the force with which it had been driven into the solid wood.

"They do use guns only," said Jack. "That arrow was fired by Deerfoot!"

"Dere is one piece of paper tied around mit it."

"It is a message from Deerfoot!" said Jack, stepping forward and, with considerable effort, drawing forth the arrow.

CHAPTER XIV

THE MANEUVRES OF DEERFOOT

Deerfoot the Shawanoe committed a serious mistake as he himself was the first to discover, when he upset the Miami warrior into the Mississippi and made off with his canoe. He had started out to help his friends, but his course was an injury to them, for it increased their danger without giving them the least assistance.

What he ought to have done, when he observed the drowsy fisherman, was to bring the boys to the spot, so that, directly after the red man was dispossessed, the three could have entered the boat and hastened across the river. Had he done so, all that which followed would have be averted.

In referring to the course of the young Shawano the most incredible statement is that the blunder was altogether due to his waggishness, because in his eagerness to play a joke upon an enemy, he forgot his usual caution; but such was the truth.

The warrior, however, was not the one to stay on the western shore when his friends were in danger. Though he had told them to expect him back at a certain hour, early in the afternoon, his intention was to return much earlier. It would have been folly for him to make for any point near that from which he departed when he set out from the Kentucky shore. Such a proceeding would be seen by his enemies, and would invite them to riddle him with bullets as he approached.

The moment he touched the Louisiana side, he ran under the overhanging limbs far enough to be out of sight of any who might be on the watch, and then pushed vigorously up stream. He continued until he had gone fully a half mile and had rounded quite a bend in the river. Then he paddled straight across to the other bank, down which he made his way with the same haste.

He speedily arrived in the vicinity of the lads and prepared, in his characteristic fashion, to take a hand in their rescue. Hoping that the chance for flight would speedily come, he carefully drew the canoe under cover, where he was confident it would not be seen by any enemies prowling in the vicinity. Then he stealthily plunged into the wood to give what help he could to his friends.

It took him only a little while to find they were at bay within the log enclosure and in much greater danger than he first supposed. The discovery caused a change in his plans. He returned to the canoe and took out the rifle which he had captured; his bow and, arrows were not left within the boat, for he valued them too highly to incur such risk; they were hidden where he knew no one could possibly steal them away from him. Then the little phial which he carried in the receptacle with his Bible was uncorked and the crimson paint applied with his forefinger to his face. The ornamentation was as fantastical as the imagination of the native American could make it.

Viewed for the first time by those who did not know him, he would have been classed as one of the fiercest warriors that ever went on the war trail. Had he been a pagan instead of a Christian, the idea would have been a correct one.

But Deerfoot was handicapped from the first by the fact that he was known to more than one of the party. It may be said that at that day there was scarcely a Shawanoe east of the Mississippi who had not heard of the execrated friend of the white men. They knew that his favorite weapons, beside his knife and tomahawk, were his bow and arrows; that his skill with them approached the marvelous; they knew that his fleetness surpassed that of any living person that he possessed a form and features of rare beauty; that his courage was surpassed by none, for, when but a stripling, he had handed a knife to the furious Tecumseh, and dared him to fight unto the death, and that his cunning and subtlety were beyond the reach of the ordinary warrior.

Deerfoot himself was aware of his general notoriety, and, though he might not have been seen by the Shawanoes, yet they would identify him at the first glance, provided he appeared before them in his own proper person.

It will be understood, therefore, why he disguised his appearance with such care. With the shrewdness of one of our modern detectives, he made a change also, as may be said, in "himself" that is, he walked differently, and used his arms and legs in style altogether foreign to his custom.

It must be remembered that there were several strong points in his favor; his was the tribe whose warriors hated him with unspeakable hatred, and he therefore was a master of every detail. When he was assisted by the gloom of night, he was in scarcely any danger, though it was far different under the glare of the sun.

Another advantage should be named, inasmuch as the reader is apt to overlook it; the separate war parties from the Shawanoe and Miami tribes were not only few in numbers, but they had not met until after arriving in the neighborhood where the youthful pioneers were traveling with little fear of molestation. Thus, in a certain sense, the warriors, while allies, were comparative strangers. After disguising himself he believed his identity would not be discovered by the Miamis, unless, possibly, by the lone fisherman. There was also a fair prospect that he could avert suspicion for a time on the part of the Shawanoes, unless particular attention was directed to him.

The foregoing seems necessary in order to justify what was done by the wonderful Deerfoot. He managed to appear on the outer fringe of the ring of assailants, without drawing special notice, and he used all his skill in learning what the assailants intended to do.

The warrior who had been shot while in the act of climbing over the logs after the boys, met his fate before Deerfoot arrived on the scene. The Indians were in a revengeful mood, and were unanimous in their determination to visit the worst punishment on the youths who were making such a brave fight for their lives.

"But for Deerfoot they would not be in this sad plight," was the thought of the young Shawanoe; "therefore the Great Spirit expects Deerfoot not to think of his own life until they are saved from the death which threatens them."

Fortunately for this purpose the warriors were scattered to a considerable extent, and seemed to give their whole thoughts to those within the enclosure. Deerfoot knew, when he observed the heavy log borne forward, and the butt placed on the wall, that it was meant to be used to carry out some plan not clearly settled in the minds of the assailants themselves. When he saw a move to climb the trees which stood near the rude fort, he feared his friends would be caught unawares, and he took to a tree with the hope of being able to give them warning in time.

On this point it will be seen the young warrior underrated the woodcraft of his friends. With a thrill of pleasure he glanced at the rifle of Jack Carleton pointed at him, before he had sought to open communication. It was only a natural precaution which led him to select a tree where he was able to use the sign language, without being seen by any of his enemies below. He made sure that enough foliage intervened to screen him from the inquiring gaze of his enemies during the proceeding.

Having made certain that his identity was known to his friends, it will be remembered that the sought to warn them of the very peril which threatened from the tree on the other side. Failing to make himself clear, he raised his own gun with the intention of shooting the savage from the perch, but providentially Otto Relstaub averted the necessity.

It is difficult to believe that had Deerfoot fired the shot he could have effected his own escape. The point from which the gun was discharged must have made itself manifest to more than one warrior below, and would have involved him in a labyrinth of peril, where his subtlety must have failed him.

But it need not be repeated that he would not have faltered on that account, had the need existed. He believed it his duty to hesitate at no risk, because he himself was wholly to blame for the dire straits in which the boys found themselves.

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.

CHAPTER XV

"TALL OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS GROW"

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 de water and swim to de oder side."

The situation was enough to make the bravest nervous, and the sturdy German could not repress his impatience. Every second was of incalculable worth, and yet, knowing they were close to the means which was to take them to safety, they could not seize it.

"No; that won't do," replied Jack, resolutely; "they will stand on the bank and pick us off without trouble to themselves; we must find the boat."

"But how can't we do dot?"

"You move up the bank and I will hurry down it the canoe cannot be far off; the instant you catch sight of it, whistle, and I'll do the same if I see it before you."

Otto sprang away with a more anxious expression on his broad, honest face than it wore when he was crouching behind the logs, and the young Kentuckian was scarcely less agitated. His feelings were similar to those which come to us in sleep, when we see some grisly terror approaching and have no power to flee before it. Somewhere, almost within reach, was the vehicle to carry them out of peril, and yet they could not lay their hands on it.

Jack was resolved, in case the canoe was not speedily found, to do as Otto advised—leap into the Mississippi and swim boldly for the other shore. If they could gain a fair start, they would have cause to hope; but such an attempt, desperate as it was, must be undertaken very soon or not at all.

Again the dreaded whoop reached them from the woods, and the leader started as though he had caught the click of a gun-lock from behind a tree.

The cry was not a loud one, and was no doubt meant as a signal to some one not far off.

"I wonder where Deerfoot can be," muttered Jack, pushing his way hurriedly through the underbrush, and glancing in every direction for the fallen tree which was to show them the craft. "He told us not to wait for him, but it seems to me he ought to have given us help in finding the boat."

Again, and for the third time, the frightful signal trembled among the trees close behind him.

"He shan't catch me unprepared, at any rate," muttered the young Kentuckian, raising the hammer of his gun and looking defiantly toward the point whence came the cry.

The Indian did not show himself, and conscious that he was throwing away precious seconds, Jack pushed forward once more, keeping watch of his flank as well as his front, for a treacherous shot from the forest would render a canoe altogether useless, so far, at least, as Master Jack Carleton was concerned.

He was impatient and desperate. There is often a perverseness in inanimate things which is beyond endurance. He had started with the highest hopes a few minutes before, confident of finding the Indian canoe without trouble, and now he was baffled and held back when on the very threshold of safety.

"It is useless to wait," he finally said, coming to an abrupt halt. "I will call to Otto and we will swim for it."

But, before he could emit the whistle that had been agreed upon, his ears were set tingling by the identical signal coming from a point up the bank.

"Thank heaven!" was his exclamation, as he wheeled about and, forgetful of the other signal that had told him of peril, dashed along the bank of the stream with furious haste.

"Otto has been more fortunate than I," he added, as he bounded forward; "he has found the canoe, and I pray that he has not been too late for us to use it."

CHAPTER XVI

ON THE RIVER

The experience of Otto was somewhat similar to that which befell Jack Carleton in his search for the Indian canoe. Strong, self-possessed, and courageous by nature as was the German lad, he fretted over his forced restraint more than did the other.

He pushed forward with grim recklessness. He caught the signal of the warrior which caused Jack so much disquiet, but he did not permit it to interfere with his purpose.

"Let him boot all dot he doesn't vant to," muttered the angry lad; "he don't drive me away from looking for dot canoe, don't it?"

Several minutes passed, during which he failed to discover the first sign of the missing boat. Finally, realizing that a considerable distance must intervene between him and Jack, he came to a pause, and, sitting on a fallen tree, took off his cap, mopped his forehead, and heaved a great sigh:

"Dot ish queerer as efer vos; Deerfoot, he tells me dot we find his boat and we don't finds him; he says we must jump into the boat and paddles out mitdle Mississippi, but we finds the Mississippi, but vere ain't dot canoe? Dot ishn't the question. Vere isn't Jack? He ish looking for de canoe also mit likevise, and I don't bear him vistle for me—mine gracious!"

Otto spoke slowly, giving utterance only to a few of the thoughts which stirred his brain. He was on the point of signaling to his friend to return, and, insisting that they should swim the river together, when he became aware that the undergrowth in front of him and close to the water, partially screened some object whose outlines could be faintly trace from where he sat.

With the exclamation, he straightened up and stared in blank astonishment. The contour of what he saw was so distinct that there could be no mistake; he was staring straight at the canoe for which he had been hunting so long.

Otto softly rose to his feet and looked behind him. He had been sitting on the very ash which Deerfoot had named as the guide that would direct them in finding the craft. Otto threw back his head and laughed, overcome by the reaction from the tense strain to which his nerves had been subjected.

"Ven somepody axes for de biggest fool dot efer vos, he looks at Otto Relstaub and says, 'I Dot ish him,' and dot will be him."

But he, shivered at the thought of the minutes that had slipped by, and, without indulging in any more soliloquy, placed his finger and thumb in his mouth and emitted the whistle which thrilled Jack Carleton down the river and brought him hurrying to the spot.

Satisfied that no repetition of the call was required, Otto gave his attention to the boat. It was a fine Indian canoe, buoyant enough to carry six or eight warriors, and furnished with three long paddles which, in skillful hands, could drive it with great speed through the water. It was made of bark, bow and stern being similar, curving inward toward the middle of the boat, and painted with rude designs outside, which showed more taste than did the ornamentation of the aboriginal countenances.

Deerfoot had displayed no little ingenuity in screening the craft from sight. Inasmuch as Otto had forgotten himself so far as to sit down on the very tree for which he was searching without once suspecting his forgetfulness, it is not to be supposed he would have discovered the boat at all but for the accident named.

Grasping one end, he began vigorously pushing it into the current. It was heavy, and he wondered at the strength of the young Shawanoe, who had drawn it clear of the water, overlooking the fact that moderate strength, skillfully applied, succeeds more frequently than does simple physical power.

After much effort, he shoved it clear of the land and held it floating on the surface.

"I wonder if Jack didn't hear me," he thought, looking around; "I thinks I calls him agin once more."

He did not utter the signal, however, for just then he heard approaching footsteps, and, a minute later, the flushed and panting Jack Carleton was beside him.

"Thank heaven!" he exclaimed; "I was in despair when your signal reached me; we haven't a second to lose."

"We ishet going to lose him, not at all. Hark!"

They heard just then, not only the faint whoop that had caused them so much disquiet, but caught sight of the warrior who uttered the alarming call.

He whisked between the trees with such bewildering quickness of movement that Jack, who had turned with his rifle half raised, saw no chance of firing with effect. Fortunately, the necessity for doing so did not exist, for the boys at the same moment recognized the red man as their friend Deerfoot, who walked forward smiling and pleased, carrying his bow and gun.

"My brothers did well," he said in his quiet way; "but they did not hasten as does the deer when the hounds are on his trail."

"We could not have hurried more than we did," replied Jack Carleton, taking the hand of the youthful warrior; "a little more haste and both of us would have broken our necks."

"Dot ish so," added Otto, emphatically; "I sot down on dis log to dinks if I couldn't run fitstery but I couldn't. What for you keep whooping all the time like a crazy person?"

"Deerfoot wished to see his brothers run, for the red men are looking for them."

"I've no doubt of that, and the wonder to me is how you managed to give them such a scare that they scattered and left us a chance to dig out."

"The wicked flee when no man pursueth," was the apt quotation of the extraordinary youth, who was so fond of studying his Bible. "But their fright will not last long."

"Such being the case we must not tarry."

The Shawanoe acted as though he did not intend to enter the canoe with them, seemingly having some object in remaining on the Kentucky side; but he changed his mind, probably concluding that his services were still needed by his friends.

He motioned to Jack, who stepped into the boat and picked up one of the paddles, Otto having done the same. Deerfoot leaped lightly after them, the impulse carrying the craft fully a rod from shore. He laid down his gun and bow, and, seizing the third paddle, made such a powerful sweep through the water that the others almost lost their balance. They essayed to help him, but he asked them with a smile to cease and leave the management of the boat entirely to him.

"We might as well," said Jack, "for we shall only hinder you."

"Dot ish de same as I doesn't dinks."

A few strokes sent the canoe well out from the land, and the Shawanoe still plied the paddle with extraordinary skill; but, as he left the shore, he knew that in one respect the danger of himself and companions was increased. If their enemies were anywhere along the Mississippi, with a suspicion of the truth, they could not fail to detect them.

It proved as he suspected. Several whoops echoed from a point a short distance below, and the quick eye of the leader caught sight of the Miamis and Shawanoes on the bank.

"Down! Down!" he said, excitedly; "let my brothers lower their heads or they will be killed."

Both Jack and Otto extended themselves flat on the bottom of the boat, but Deerfoot remained upright, plying the paddle with might and main. He headed out in the stream, and used every effort to get beyond reach of the rifles of his enemies.

"Why don't you duck your head, too?" demanded the alarmed Jack; "they can hit you as easily as us."

But Deerfoot had his eyes on the party and did not mean to throw away his life. He saw there were four red men who stood together on the very edge of the wood. When two of them raised their guns and sighted at him, he dropped like the loon, which dodges the bullet of the hunter by the flash of his gun.

A couple of reports sounded like one, and the three on the bottom of the canoe heard the bark fly. Both balls had pierced it, entering one side and passing out on the other. The weight of the occupants caused the boat to sink sufficiently to protect them, so long as they remained flat on the bottom. One of the bullets was aimed so low that it struck the water, ricocheting through the bark and bounding off in space. The other went within an inch of Deerfoot's figure, he being slightly higher than either of the others.

The echoes of the guns were ringing through the wood, when the Shawanoe straightened up and dipped the paddle into the waters again; but he had time for only one sweeping stroke when down he went once more, barely in time to escape the third shot.

Before using the paddles, he raised his head just enough to peep over the gunwale. He saw the three warriors deliberately reloading their weapons, while the other was waiting for his target to present itself. There were two others, who had been drawn thither by the calls of the first party.

"I dinks maybe I can does somedings to help," said Otto, timidly looking over the side of the craft; "mebbe I sees—mine gracious!"

The gun which was fired just then sent the bullet, as may be said, directly under the nose of the German, who lowered his face with such quickness that the whole boat jarred from the bump against the bottom.

"Deerfoot, won't it be a good thing to send a shot at them?" asked Jack; "it seems to me they would not be quite so ready with their guns."

The Shawanoe was evidently of the same mind. He had the choice of two weapons, and need it be said which was the one selected?

Standing erect in the canoe, he fitted an arrow to the string with incredible dexterity and launched it with a speed that rendered it almost invisible. The distance caused him to elevate the missile slightly, but the aim of Simon Kenton or Daniel Boone, with his long, trusty rifle, could not have been more unerring.

The red men on shore were well aware of his amazing skill, and they lost no time in adopting the dodging tactics. The instant the form of the graceful young warrior was thrown in relief against the sky and wooded shore, they bounded behind the nearest trees, peering forth like frightened children.

The movement saved one life at least, for the winged missile which, a second later, whizzed over the spot where they had been standing, was driven with a force that would have caused it to plunge clean through the body of any one in its path.

Deerfoot remained erect in the canoe until the shaft had landed, when he gave utterance to a defiant shout; sat down, and deliberately took up the paddle again.

It will be borne in mind that the yellow current of the Mississippi was swollen by freshets near its headwaters, and the canoe not only danced about a great deal, but was borne swiftly downward, seeing which the Indians hastened in a parallel course, with the purpose of holding it within range. Furthermore, other red men continually appeared at a lower point. It is within bounds to say that there was not one who did not understand the stratagem by which the young Shawanoe had outwitted them, and there was no means within their reach which they would not have put forth to revenge themselves upon him.

Within a brief space of time the guns of the warriors began popping from so many different points that Deerfoot dare not attempt to use the paddle. The blue puffs of smoke were so near that it would have been fatal to expose himself to the aim of his enemies, but, unless the canoe could be propelled still further from them, it was likely to be riddled by the converging fires.

"Things are in a bad shape," remarked Jack Carleton, afraid to raise his head a single inch, for the boat rode most uncomfortably high; "we must do something, and yet what can we do?"

Deerfoot made no answer; his fertile brain had extricated other parties from more critical situations than the one in which he was now placed, and he was quick to decide upon an expedient for doing the same in the present instance.

CHAPTER XVII

THE LOUISIANA SHORE

Deerfoot threw himself over the side of the canoe into the river, holding fast to the gunwale with one hand and keeping the boat between him and the Indians on shore. With the arm which was free, he swam toward the Louisiana side, towing the craft after him.

While it seemed absolutely necessary that something of the kind should be done, yet the reader will perceive that the course of the Shawanoe was extremely perilous, not only for himself, but for his friends whom he was so anxious to benefit. His removal from the canoe caused it to ride higher, and thereby exposed them to the bullets that were continually skipping about it. Deerfoot himself was forced to keep his shoulders at such an elevation that he was liable to be perforated by some flying missiles, but he increased the distance between himself and enemies with greater speed than would be supposed.

"I dinks dis ish good style," said Otto to Jack, who moved his head so as to see what he was doing. The sagacious German had gathered the three paddles so they were added to that side of the craft which served as a partial shield against the shots from the shore. The implements were so arranged that the lad felt safe against harm, unless the boat should turn half way round before he could accommodate himself to the changed condition of things.

"It is a good idea," said Jack, admiringly, as he hastened to avail himself of the defense; "I don't believe one of their bullets can pierce our shield."

Something cold made itself felt through the clothing of the young Kentuckian, where his hip pressed the bottom of the canoe. Groping with his hand he found it was water, which he saw bubbling through a bullet-hole that was forced below the surface by the vigor of Deerfoot's arm. The opposite side of the boat was lifted correspondingly high, so that the sunlight shone through.

It will be understood that the conditions prevented the Shawanoe from towing the boat directly across the Mississippi. The swift current rendered a diagonal course necessary, and even that could not be pushed with enough power to prevent the party drifting down stream.

The red men kept up a desultory fire, but it was less frequent and manifestly less hopeful than at first. They could not but see that the craft was steadily passing beyond range, and the chances of inflicting injury grew less every moment. Soon the firing ceased altogether.

A moment later, the dripping form of Deerfoot flipped over the gunwale again, diffusing moisture in every direction. Without a word, he seized the paddle and plied it with his old-time skill and vigor. He looked keenly toward Kentucky, but saw nothing of his enemies: they must have concluded to withdraw and bestow their attention elsewhere.

But, convinced that they were still watching the course of the canoe, he again rose to his feet, and, circling the paddle over his head, gave utterance to a number of tantalizing whoops. His enemies had been outwitted with such cleverness that the youth could not deny himself the pleasure of expressing his exultation in that characteristic fashion.

When Jack Carleton discovered the water bubbling through the bullet-hole in the side of the canoe, as though it was a tiny spring that had just burst forth, he was afraid it would sink the craft. He inserted the end of his finger to check, in some measure, the flow; but Deerfoot, observing the act, shook his head to signify it was unnecessary.

"My brothers shall reach land," he said.

"I have no doubt we shall, since you are using the paddle again, but a little while ago it looked as though the land we were going to reach was at the bottom of the river. Deerfoot," added Jack, with a smile, "they have punctured this boat pretty thoroughly. I cannot understand how it was we all escaped when the bullets seemed to be everywhere."

"The Great Spirit turned aside the bullets," said the Shawanoe.

"No he didn't," was the sturdy response of Jack; "I acknowledge His mercies, which have followed us all the days of our lives, but that is not the way He works. You know as well as do I, that if yon get in the way of a Shawanoe or Miami rifle, you will be hit unless yon are very quick to get out of the way again; but for all that," the Kentuckian hastened to add, noticing a reproving expression on the countenance of his dusky friend, "my heart overflows with gratitude because we have been saved, when there seemed not the first ray of hope for us. The bullets came near, but none touched us."

"I dinks different," was the unexpected remark of Otto, who, assuming the sitting position, took off his cap, and, after fumbling awhile through his shock of yellow hair, actually found a ball, which he held up between his fingers.

"Vot don't you dinks ob him, eh?" he asked, triumphantly.

The amazed Jack took the object and examined it. No need was there of doing so; it was a rifle ball beyond question.

"How in the name of all that's wonderful did that get into your hair?" asked his friend.

"I 'spose he was shot dere, and my head was too hard for it to pass through, so he stops, don't it?"

The canoe was so close to shore that Deerfoot stopped paddling for the moment and extended his band for the missile. He simply held it up, glanced at it, and then tossed it back to Otto with the remark:

"The head of my brother is thick like the rock, but the ball was not fired from a gun."

With a bewildered expression, as though some forgotten fact was beginning to dawn upon him, Otto laid his cap in his lap and began searching through his hair with both hands. A moment later, his face beamed with one of his most expansive smiles, and he showed two more rifle-bullets that had been fished from the capillary depths.

"Yaw, I forgots him; I puts dem pullets in mine hat yesterday and I dinks dey was lost; dat is looky, ain't it?"

"I don't see anything particularly lucky about it," said Jack, who suspected that much of the lad's stupidity was assumed. A healthy youngster never fails to have the organ of mirth well forward in development, and the promptings of Otto's innate love of fun seemed to have little regard for time, place or circumstances.

The American Indian is probably the most melancholy of the five races of men; but even he is not lacking in the element of mirth which it is maintained is often displayed by dumb animals.

When Deerfoot heard the explanation of Otto, he did not smile, but with a grave expression of countenance gave his entire attention to the paddle in his hand. The German sat with his back toward the front of the canoe, the other two facing him, the Shawanoe being at the rear. The shore was only a few rods away, the Mississippi being much less agitated at the side than in the middle.

Without any display of effort, the warrior used the long paddle with all the power he could put forth. Very soon the craft attained a speed greater than either of the pale faces suspected.

"No," repeated Jack Carleton, "I can't see where there is any special luck in finding the bullets in your hair; I shouldn't be surprised if they had been there for a week. You must use a very coarse-toothed comb."

"My brother uses no comb at all," suggested Deerfoot, in a solemn voice, from the rear of the boat, which was speeding like an arrow over the water.

"Now you have struck the truth," laughed Jack.

Otto rose to a stooping position, steadying himself as best he could, and extended his hand to shake that of the Shawanoe, as proof that he indorsed his remark. He placed a hand on the shoulder of the Kentuckian to steady himself, for he knew that it is a difficult matter for one to keep his balance in such a delicate structure as an Indian canoe.

"Deerfoot ish not such a pig fool as he don't look to be, somedimes I dinks he knows more nodins dan nopody; den van he h'ists sail in his canoe and sails off mitout saying nodings to nopody, den I don't dinks."

Otto Relstaub had reached that point in his remark, when the bow of the canoe arrived in Louisiana. It struck the shore with a violence that started the seams through the entire structure. The author of all this of course kept his seat, for he had braced himself for the shook. At the same time he caught the shoulder of Jack Carleton, as if to hold him quiet, but it was all pretense on his part. There was no "grip" to his fingers, and Jack immediately plunged forward, his head bumping the bottom of the boat with a crash.

As for Otto Relstaub, the consequences took away his breath. As he was trying to stand on his feet, he had a great deal more of falling to do it than his friend. He did it most thoroughly, sitting down with such emphasis that the side of the canoe gave way, and he continued the act on dry land, being stopped by a small sapling in his path.

Otto whirled over on his face, and scrambling to his feet, stared around to learn the extent of the calamity. He gathered up his gun and hat, and then, stooping, passed his hands over the bark and attentively examined it.

"I dinks it ish split a good deal mit my head," he remarked, with a grave countenance.

Meanwhile, Jack Carleton had regained his upright position and shaken himself together. When he saw Otto in an inverted position, he broke into hearty laughter, hastened, no doubt, by the fact that Deerfoot was shaking from head to foot with mirth. His black eyes glistened with tears, caused by his amusement over the performance of the German. He was laughing all over, though he gave out not the slightest sound.

As for Jack Carleton, he chuckled and gurgled with a noise like that of water running out of a bottle, while the main victim of all this merriment was as solemn as an owl. After rubbing and adjusting himself, as may be said, he turned slowly about and gazed inquiringly at his friends in the boat, as if puzzled to understand the cause of their emotions.

"Vot ish dot you seem to laugh mit?" he demanded, in an injured voice; "I see nodings."

When the others had somewhat recovered from their mirth, Otto began laughing with scarcely less heartiness than they showed. The absurd occurrence seemed slow to impress itself upon his consciousness.

Deerfoot did not allow himself to remain idle many minutes. The fractured front of the craft being immovably fixed in the bank, he leaned his head over the side and washed the paint from his face. He disliked to disfigure himself in that fashion, though he always carried the stuff with him, to be used in such an emergency as has been described.

The blanket stolen from him had been carried away by one of the warriors, so that Deerfoot held only the rifle and ammunition in the way of a reprisal; but they were more than sufficient to replace the property he had lost, and he had no cause for complaint.

Stepping on solid land again, with the water dripping from his clothing, the handsome warrior stood erect, and looked at Kentucky across the "Father of Waters." Instead of the villages and towns which now grace the locality, he saw only the lonely woods stretching north and south until lost to view.

But he knew enemies were there, and the keen vision of the youth was searching for them. They must have become discouraged over what had taken place, for not the first sign of the red men could be discerned. They seemed to have "folded their tents," and stolen off as silently as the Arabs.

But far down the Mississippi, a canoe put out from the Kentucky side and approached the opposite bank. It kept out of sight until Deerfoot the Shawanoe had withdrawn, and then it advanced with the care and stealth of the trained Indian on the war-path.

The craft was full of Miamis and Shawanoes, armed to the teeth, and impelled by the greatest incentive that can inflame the passions of the American Indian—revenge.