The presence of the panther so terrified the horses that they kept up a continual prancing; and it would have been next to impossible for any one to have taken a sure aim while in the saddle.
Roger understood this, for his first act was to slip from his seat, gun in hand. His next was to draw back the hammer of his rifle. It was to be hoped that the powder lay properly in the pan, so that there would be no false flash.
Dick, too, had gripped his rifle, and was bent on using it to the best of his ability in case his comrade failed to kill the panther, though he had confidence in the marksmanship of Roger.
The time could be measured only in seconds, from Roger’s leaving his saddle to when he pressed the trigger. And with the sharp crash of the gun the great gray body of the crouching beast flew upward, with all of its legs in motion at once.
It fell almost at the feet of the Indian squaw, who drew back her charge, and at the same time kept her stout cudgel ready, so as to make use of it in case of necessity.
But there was no such need. Roger’s bullet had done its work well; the ferocious beast was already quivering in its death throes.
“Good shot, Roger!” cried the gratified Dick, as he lowered his own gun.
The other was already reloading his long rifle. That was a hunter’s instinct which had been impressed so urgently on the minds of these boys when mere striplings that they could never neglect the precaution. An empty gun is the nightmare of a wise hunter, for it makes him worse than helpless.
Roger was making haste, wishing to be the one to add the finishing touches in case anything more was needed; but such did not prove to be the case, for even as he completed the task of reloading his weapon the animal expired.
Dick was by now out of his saddle. He found a place to hitch his horse by tossing the bridle over a broken limb, caught the second animal’s lines and did the same; after which he turned for a look at the strange pair who had been saved from death, it might be, through the coming of the white boys.
The squaw was not much different from all of her kind, being wrinkled, and squat of figure as one accustomed to bearing heavy loads, for it is the women who do all the work in Indian villages, while the braves hunt, and carry on wars.
Evidently the squaw did not know whether to look upon these strangers in the light of friends or enemies. True, one of them had saved her charge and herself from a terrible fate; but then the white boys might decide to make prisoners of them, and carry them far away to their settlement.
She still gripped her cudgel, and her beady black eyes flashed fire as Dick approached. He saw that she was like a fox at bay, and ready to meet him half way if he gave evidence of wishing to do them harm.
So Dick, who had hastily slung his gun to his back by means of the strap, held up both his hands, palms extended toward the squaw. That is the universal “peace sign,” recognized all over the world, even among the blacks of darkest Africa.
The wrinkled face of the squaw lost some of its grimness. She even seemed to smile a little, Dick thought; at any rate those fierce black eyes glistened in a friendly way as she nodded her head, and also held up both hands, letting the club fall to the ground.
“Friends—no hurt squaw, pappoose. How come here? Much bad job, panther. Shake hands. Me Dick!”
Although it might have seemed a little comical, the way the boy expressed himself, somehow, either through her knowledge of a little English, or because his gesture explained more than his few words did, the squaw seemed to understand him. She accepted his hand, and her black eyes snapped some more when he gave her fingers a friendly squeeze. Thus it is possible for two people to communicate, even when language fails.
“Me Karmeet, pappoose Dove Eyes. Prisoner so long in Shoshone village. Get away. Now on trail to lodges of Sioux. Much good paleface boy, shoot big cat. Ugh!”
And that was about the extent of her willingness to impart information. Whoever Karmeet might be, she evidently had long ago been taught that it was a woman’s place to hold her tongue when any of the other sex were around.
“We make camp, have meat to eat. Karmeet hungry; Dove Eyes want food. You much welcome join us. Stay all night in camp. In morning go to Sioux wigwam. How?”
Dick in this way was trying to make the squaw understand that they were about to halt for the night, and camp; also that she and her charge would be perfectly welcome to stay there, and share in the supper of the white boys.
Roger looked at the lined face to see whether she understood, and immediately realized that Dick knew how to go about it; for again she nodded her head, looked anxiously at the girl, and then muttered:
“We stay night with paleface boys. Much good. Karmeet remember. Ugh!”
And so the two young pioneers went about the duties of the hour as though they were alone. They carefully selected the place where the fire was to be made; and the keen eyes of the squaw followed all their movements with considerable curiosity. Roger, looking up later, saw her nodding her head, and from this he understood that she approved of their cunning in thus providing against discovery of the small blaze by hostile eyes.
The horses were provided with a feeding place, because there was grass in the forest glade where the wandering Indian squaw and her charge, in escaping from one peril, had almost met their fate in another way.
Then supper was started. When Roger prepared to cook the meat, to his amusement it was taken from his hands by the old squaw, who insisted on carrying out the rest of that labor—though possibly the lads might have preferred to do it their own way. But evidently Karmeet had all her life been accustomed to never seeing a warrior bending over the fire whenever there was a squaw in the camp; they might do the drudgery when out hunting, or on the warpath, but never at home. That was a woman’s duty.
There was plenty for all. Little Dove Eyes had been visibly frightened at first sight of the white boys, for doubtless they were the only palefaces upon whom her eyes had ever rested. But by degrees the smiles and nods of Roger assured the child that he was a friend. Besides, had not it been his “speaking-stick” that had sent the terrible woods-cat to its death, just when it seemed that nothing could prevent it from springing on her guardian?
And so by slow degrees she even tried to talk with Roger, repeating after him the words he uttered. He would pick up his weapon, and say “gun” very distinctly; so in a little while, when he asked her what it was, she would say the word plainly, showing that the lesson had been learned.
And so it was with other things, even to his name, which proved pretty much of a stumbling-block; for words of two syllables were hard for the child to pronounce.
Meanwhile, as the evening passed, Dick from time to time tried to engage the squaw in conversation; but she was most uncommunicative, for some reason or other, and answered his questions either by shrugs that gave him to believe she did not understand, or else by single words.
But by dint of hard work he managed to get enough information from her to understand that she had been captured by a roving band of Shoshones, then, as nearly always, at war with the fighting Indians of the Northwest, the fierce Sioux, and, together with the child, who was related to her, carried away as captives to one of their villages, where they had been kept for months.
Finally a chance came to make her escape, though she would not go without Dove Eyes. They had stolen two horses, which had carried them many miles on their way toward the village of her people. Then trouble came, for her horse died of exhaustion, while that which the little girl rode broke a leg by stepping in a prairie dog hole.
After that they had gone afoot, existing as best they could on berries and such things as an Indian woman best knew would sustain life, until, without warning, they had been confronted by that hungry beast, which would surely have pounced upon them had not the paleface boys interfered.
Beyond that the squaw would not venture. Just who and what she was Dick could not ascertain, though once she did mention the fact that the child’s father was a big chief among her people.
And when it came time for seeking rest, Roger willingly gave up his blanket in order that their visitors might be provided with some of the comforts to which their sex entitled them.
As was customary, the boys kept a wary eye out, though they had come to depend partly on their horses to alarm them, should a creeping Indian come near the camp during the night. The animals seemed to fear the redskins as much as any lonely settler’s wife might; and would snort, and pound their hoofs upon the ground, should they detect the presence of a marauder.
Perhaps towards morning both of the boys slept more soundly than usual, for they were tired, and sleep is more apt to overpower a watcher just before day comes on apace.
Roger was the first to get up. The earliest peep of dawn could be seen in the far east, through the trees, as he started to revive the little fire in the cavity, so that they might have an early breakfast, and move on. He found himself hoping that this day might see them once more looking out across the great river they had followed so far.
Having managed to get the blaze started, Roger turned to speak to his companion, to find that Dick was already on his feet, and looking around.
“Well, it happened just as I thought it would,” Dick was saying.
“What do you mean?” demanded his companion, wonderingly.
“Look around, and tell me if you see our visitors,” the other went on.
And Roger, turning his eyes in the quarter where the squaw and her charge had been lying, was astonished and dismayed to find that they had disappeared.
“Why, they’re gone!” the backwoods boy exclaimed, as he stared hard at the spot where he had supposed their visitors were still lying.
The blanket was there, carefully folded over a stick of wood, so as to give the impression at first glance that some one might be underneath, though Roger now saw that this could not be so.
“Yes, that’s a fact,” added Dick, just as if he meant to say that any one with eyes could see it.
“But, if you thought this would happen, why didn’t we do something?” asked Roger.
Dick shrugged his shoulders.
“Why should we try to stop the old squaw if she thought it best to leave us in this way? She is naturally suspicious of all whites. And perhaps, for all we know, she might have thought we meant to take that little girl away to our people. So, just like an Indian, she watched her chance, and while we slept crept out of camp. Let them go, Roger; even if we wanted to, we couldn’t spare time to look for them now. We have to find that river to-day, you know.”
“Yes, I think you’re right, Dick,” admitted the other, slowly, as he grasped the idea. “And anyhow, she didn’t take my blanket. I ought to be thankful for that, I suppose. Indians are born thieves, they say. But see how she wrapped it about this piece of wood, just to make me think one of them might be lying under the folds. What’s that lying on top of the blanket, Dick?”
“Looks to me like a piece of fresh bark,” replied the other, as he stepped forward.
“Oh! it may be a message!” cried Roger, his eyes sparkling.
“Just what it is,” answered his cousin. “See, she has drawn it in pictures, for you know that’s the only way Indians can communicate their ideas to each other. Here is what she means to stand for our camp, with four of us sitting around a fire, two being men and the others women, for they have skirts. Then you can see the last two creeping away on their hands and knees. And here they come into what I guess must be an Indian village.”
“How easy to understand what she wants us to know,” declared Roger, much struck by the manner in which the old squaw had left word that she and the little Indian girl were even then on their way to the village where they belonged.
“I thought something like this might happen,” Dick said, presently, “when I saw the squaw hiding small pieces of meat last night, instead of eating them herself, hungry though she was. She meant to keep them for the child. A warrior, or an old squaw, may be able to go without a bite for days, but not a child.”
Roger folded his blanket, and stowed it away, after which he went back to the little blaze he had started, saying in a humorous way:
“Well, anyhow we can have our meat cooked as we want it this morning, and not half burned in the Indian style; and that’s worth something;” at which remark his comrade laughed.
“The chances are we’ll never know just who old Karmeet was, or the pretty little dark-faced girl with her,” Roger observed later, while they were eating their frugal meal. “Dove Eyes, she said her name was; and perhaps it was all right, though I never yet saw a turtle-dove with such black eyes; did you, Dick?”
But Dick’s mind was already wrestling with a weightier problem. He had to map out the day’s march and figure on whether they would be apt to strike the river by still heading due north. Roger was already questioning in his mind whether they had not better turn somewhat toward the northeast, so as to make doubly sure; but as yet he had not dared speak his thought aloud.
But after all, it looked as though these things were ordered for the best. Supposing they had never left the bank of the Missouri, what would have been the fate of Karmeet and little Dove Eyes? Surely there must be some Power that regulated all such affairs; and even this wandering on their part had been for a purpose.
As they rode on that morning they gradually left the timber behind once more, and found it only in scattered mottes.
Roger was wavering in his belief, but Dick never allowed himself to doubt that, sooner or later, they must come upon the river again, and possibly many miles above the spot where they had left it. He himself had been figuring it out, and reached the conclusion that there was a tremendous bend above the place of their turning aside to make a “cut-off;” and that, when they were able to again look upon the current of the river, they would have saved possibly a hundred miles of territory.
And should this prove to be the case Dick stood ready to thank his companion for being the cause of their wandering. What had promised to be a disaster might under such new conditions prove a blessing in disguise.
At noon they halted only long enough to take a cold bite. Indeed, this might as well have been done while on the move, only that the boys had compassion on their horses, and wished to give them a little rest in the middle of a hot day.
More than once Dick had raised himself in the stirrups as the afternoon wore on. Roger noticed this finally, and of course was curious to know why he did it.
“Do you think you see anything ahead there, Dick?” he demanded.
“I was noticing the formation of the land,” came the calm reply; “and, Roger, unless I’m greatly mistaken, we’re going to come on the river before the sun sets.”
“I only hope you’re a good prophet, Dick, that’s all,” the other quickly returned, as he, too, looked long and earnestly ahead. “And now that you’ve called my attention to it, I do believe it looks promising over there. Well, for one, I’m fish hungry, and I don’t care who knows it. It seems like a terribly long time since I felt a fish tug at a line.”
What Dick so confidently predicted came true.
Just one hour later they no longer had the slightest doubt about the river lying ahead, for there were many things that went to prove this fact. Roger gave himself up to picturing the success that was bound to follow his fishing operations; for, as has been remarked, the boy never was happier than when engaged in his favorite occupation.
“If we don’t get there until about dark, Dick, promise me that you’ll lay out our camp to-night close to the water, so that I can have my fill of fun without having to go far for it. Seems to me I don’t want to lose sight of the water in a hurry again.”
“I feel pretty much the same way as you do, Roger,” replied the other, frankly. “And so I can safely promise you what you ask. We’ll sleep to-night so near the water that it will make music to put us to sleep.”
“The finest of music, too,” ventured Roger; “especially after you’ve been silly enough to lose it for three nights running. But then I keep on hoping we may have gained something after all, which would make my blunder the easier to hear.”
“I’m sure that it will turn out to be so,” added generous Dick.
“And that we are right now closer to the exploring party than ever before; that would be just fine, eh, Dick?”
“It certainly would, Roger. There, if you look yonder, you can see the sun shining on what can be nothing else than running water.”
“Yes, yes, that’s what it must be, Dick; the river at last! I’ll be glad to see our old friend again. Two months we’ve been following its course; until now we are so far away from our homes that it almost seems as if we might never get back there again. But it does look good to see the water again, and to know that perhaps we’ll even have a taste of fresh fish soon.”
Even the horses seemed to know that the water was close by, for they acted as if given new life, pushing on with a vim that had been lacking during the earlier part of the day.
And so, about an hour before sundown, they came upon the Missouri once more, flowing peacefully between its wide banks, and at this season of the year rather low; so that here and there islands could be seen, as well as sandbars, on the latter of which flocks of birds sought their food.
“Now let’s find a good spot where we can stay until morning; and it must be a fishing place, too,” Roger remarked, as they turned their horses’ heads up-stream.
Ten minutes later he suddenly called out:
“Look! how would that little island do, Dick? We can easily let the horses wade out, because it is hardly to their knees, I feel sure. And if you examine the lower part of the island you’ll agree with me that it’s just the finest place to let a baited hook float down-stream anybody ever could find. Please say yes, Dick!”
Roger was so urgent, and there seemed so little chance of anything like disaster following the move, that even cautions Dick could not resist. And when they put the horses to it, they found that the water, as Roger had declared, was not more than a foot or so in depth, so that the passage was easily accomplished.
It was only a small island, with a few trees growing upon it, though even these showed signs of having been compelled to fight for existence when the spring freshets came along.
“We might as well make camp here at this lower end, eh, Dick?” asked Roger, who had an eye on the fishing possibilities, and was anxious to get busy.
Dick had been looking around, as usual, being desirous of getting the lay of the land fixed in his mind in case there should come any sudden necessity for a change of base during the night, when he would know what to do.
“Just as you say, Roger,” he remarked. “If we are going to camp here, one place is about the same as another to me, so long as we keep our fire well hidden. And I can see where that can be easily done among these rocks back here. The horses we can tie to the trees with their ropes, and there is enough grass to do for one night. So get busy as soon as you wish. I’ll take care of everything else.”
“Thank you, Dick; you feel for a fellow, don’t you? But then you never were just as wild for fishing as I am. Oh! don’t it seem good to be back once more close to our old friend, the river? And all night long I’m sure the splash of the water on the rocks will keep me sound asleep. It’s the next thing to getting home again.”
And in a short time Roger was attending to the several stout fish lines that he had baited, and thrown far out upon the passing current.
“Hurrah! I’ve got one already, Dick! See him pull, will you? Oh! this is worth waiting for, I tell you. And now, I wonder what kind it is, one of those slippery catfish, or the strongly built buffalo fish. Whoo! he nearly jerked the line out of my hands, then. But he’s just got to come along. We want fish for supper, don’t we, Dick?”
Calling out in this joyous strain Roger pulled his line in, hand over hand, until he finally landed his fish.
He did not stop work, but went at it again, baiting his hook eagerly, although that one capture ensured them all they wanted for a single meal. And Dick, as soon as he was through with the several little duties he had taken upon himself, started to clean the fish. Perhaps he, too, felt hungry for a change in diet, since one type of food is bound to become more or less monotonous.
The sun had set, and night began to draw near, as they started their small fire in the secluded spot where even Dick declared there was not a chance in the world for any passer-by to discover it.
He had seen no sign of an Indian village up or down the river, on either bank; but then, of course, since they had come down to get upon the island their range of vision was limited.
The supper was all that they had expected, and as the fish was fried to a turn in the pan, with some bear fat to keep it from sticking, both boys enjoyed their meal about as well as any they had eaten.
Afterwards Roger went back to his fishing, for he had not thus far been lucky enough to pull in a second captive; and the one they had eaten tasted so fine he was of a mind to repeat the programme for breakfast, if only he could coax another victim to take hold.
As for Dick, he lay thinking of the thousand-and-one things it was natural for a healthy boy to have passing through his mind. Going back, he could picture all the strange events that had happened to them ever since that day when they said good-by to the dear ones at home, and, with their boyish hearts seemingly in their throats, urged their horses for the last time over the well-worn trail leading to the woods, where they had so often swung the axe, and felled the trees in order to clear the land for crops.
Finally, when after a long and tiresome siege of it, Roger succeeded in landing a duplicate of his first capture, the boy declared himself satisfied. So he put away his fish lines, and joined his companion.
“I don’t exactly like the looks of the sky,” Dick remarked. “It was yellow at sunset, instead of being red, as we like to see it.”
“Does that mean rain?” asked Roger; though he knew it did, according to the way frontiersmen looked at the signs of the weather.
“Yes, and that was why I thought it just as well to put our blankets in under that ledge of rock. If the worst comes, we will have some kind of shelter.”
“It was smart in you to think of that, Dick,” declared the other; “but, then, I’m so used to having you do the right thing that I’d have been surprised if you let a chance go by for getting some sort of a roof over our heads.”
But at the time they settled themselves down for the night, taking advantage of the rocky cover, no rain had fallen, and Roger expressed his hope that it might after all prove a false alarm.
Hours later the boys were awakened by a crash of thunder, and the first thing that greeted them when they sat up in their limited quarters was the sweep of the rising wind through the trees.
“It’s coming, after all, Dick!” cried out Roger, in a disappointed tone.
“Looks like we might be in for it,” replied the other.
“Can we do anything?” demanded Roger, eagerly.
“I’m going out to make sure the horses are fast before we have the rain pouring down on us,” said Dick, starting to crawl from under the rocky roof.
“But, Dick, what if the river should rise, and cover this island; don’t you think we’d better be getting ashore?” called out Roger.
“It’s too late to try that now, for I can hear the rain coming down the river, and we’d be right in the worst of the storm. Stay where you are, Roger; I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Dick may not have known just what a “jiffy” was, but he certainly made pretty quick time of it, after finding that the horses were standing under the cottonwood trees, with their tails toward the coming storm, as horses, and indeed all animals of their type, are wont to do.
“Whew! it’s right on us; and such a roar as the wind and rain make, as they come rushing down the river,” Dick said, as he crawled once more under the rocky roof, and joined his anxious companion.
“Anyhow, I’m glad we can swim,” Roger remarked, showing that he was still thinking of a possible flood, and the fact that their position on the island placed them in a serious predicament in case the river rose rapidly, so as to cover the highest point, which was not many feet above the spot where they had camped.
There was really no time for further exchange of words. With a rush and a roar that were appalling, the storm burst upon them. They could hear the rain beating down in torrents, while the thunder crashed until the island seemed to shake under the heavy reverberations, and the lightning kept up a constant flashing that dazzled their eyes.
And yet there was a sort of fascination about the play of the storm that riveted their attention, so that they could not drag their eyes away, but, crouching there, continued to gaze, spell-bound.
Both boys thought more than once how fortunate it was that the rocky ledge under which they had found shelter for their bodies, as well as their few belongings, chanced to face in an opposite direction from that in which the storm was coming.
Had it been otherwise they must have been drenched to the skin; for the driving wind would have sent the heavy sheets of falling rain far under their cover.
They knew not what time of night it was, for not a star could be seen in that black sky.
“Will it ever stop?” shouted Roger, when there was finally a little lull in the wild racket—at least enough to admit of his voice reaching the ears of his comrade, close at hand.
“Yes, it’s bound to,” replied Dick, being wiser, for he placed his lips close to the ear of his cousin; “but already it seems to me the river is rising. I can surely hear the noise of it rushing along between us and the shore.”
His words of course caused Roger more or less uneasiness, for he had himself been haunted latterly with visions of what a terrible thing it might prove for them if their escape should be cut off by morning, and the flood even threaten to wipe the island out of existence.
They could do nothing to better their condition, since it was now too late to think of trying to make the mainland. Their horses would prove unmanageable, with all that lightning to frighten them; and the chances were disaster must follow any attempt to ford the swollen stream before dawn came to show them just what perils they had to face.
That was surely a night never to be forgotten by the boys. And the longer it kept up, the greater grew their apprehension. Indeed, numbers of times Roger even loudly protested that he could feel the water coming into their shelter, though happily enough it proved every time that this was only some trickling rivulet, caused by a temporary shift of wind, and not an invasion by the encroaching river.
“Will daylight ever come?” he kept saying, time and again; for it was the utter darkness more than anything else that appalled them, with the storm beating down steadily, and the river rising all the while.
There could be no doubt about this, for whenever the wind ceased for a brief interval, and the growling of the thunder died away, they heard that rushing sound, such as could only be made by great volumes of water speeding along.
Once Dick attempted to sally forth in order to learn just how matters stood, and whether the poor horses were enduring the downpour all right; but he did not get very far away, because another rush of rain caused him to dodge back to shelter.
Roger even dozed a little, being more or less accustomed to the noise by this time. But he was electrified to hear Dick suddenly call out:
“I really believe it’s getting lighter, because I can see things out there that I couldn’t a while ago.”
“Yes, you’re right, Dick!” exclaimed the other, as he thrust his head out; “and let me tell you, for one, I’m not sorry that day’s coming. When there’s anything wrong I like to see what I have to meet. This thing of being left in the dark gives me a cold shiver. See, it’s getting lighter every minute. Oh! look at the river, will you? It doesn’t seem like the same one we fished in last night.”
Nor did it, for the heavy rain must have fallen all along the stream, which was rising very fast, and was likely to continue to do so for several hours to come. A flood at this late summer day was doubtless a rare occurrence; but, then, the Missouri has always been known to do the least expected of things, so, with such a cloudburst to help along, even that was liable to happen.
“But thank goodness the rain seems to have stopped, even if the clouds are still hanging overhead,” Roger declared, as he drew his stiffened figure from under the overhanging ledge, and tried to straighten up.
Then the two went, first of all, to see if the horses were there, and to their satisfaction found the poor beasts standing under a tree, as wet as they could possibly be, but apparently not otherwise harmed by the storm.
Afterwards they turned to survey the raging flood.
Between the island and the shore, where the horses had easily waded, there now rushed a torrent that must have been over their heads, and so fierce that even the hardiest swimmer could never have held his own against its power.
“That’s bad enough,” admitted Roger; “but just see how the water is still creeping up on us. It looks to me as if the whole island would soon be covered!”
“It is rising, Roger,” admitted the older boy, seriously, as he surveyed the tumbling waters, rushing along with a noise like the churning of a score of grist mills, such as the one near the St. Louis settlement.
“Do you think it will keep on increasing all day, Dick?” asked the other, with a ring of alarm in his voice.
“It may,” was the reply. “That will depend on how far up the river that heavy rainfall extended. If it covered the whole watershed, then the river here must keep on getting bigger for a good many hours before it reaches a crest.”
“But we never knew the Missouri to rise at this late time in the summer, did we, Dick?”
“Not anything like this, that’s sure, Roger. Of course, after a heavy storm it always creeps up. But this is really a flood, and will bother the exploring expedition for a day or two, I think.”
“Oh, but they have boats, and will think little or nothing of it, Dick,” the younger boy went on. “But what a bad fix it finds us in! What if the water does keep on coming up and up all day; won’t it cover this little island and perhaps wash it away?”
“Oh! hardly that,” Dick hastened to answer. “It has stood many floods in the spring time, because these trees have had a chance to grow.”
“But even if that rushing water only covers the island, where will we be then, I’d like to know? Ugh! it makes me shiver to think of it,” and Roger turned to look once more at the roaring river.
“Of course I don’t know where we’ll be,” Dick observed, calmly; “but if we’ve got the good sense I think we have, chances are two boys about our size will be perched in the branches of the largest tree on the island, with all their stores about them, waiting for the waters to go down again.”
“Oh! and I never thought of that, either!” exclaimed Roger, apparently somewhat relieved in his mind, as he noted that one of the trees was of some size.
“The worst thing about that plan,” continued Dick, “is that we’ve got to lose our horses; and I hate to think of that more than I can tell you.”
“Will they be drowned, do you think?”
“Well, horses can swim, you know; and they might get ashore if we turned them loose in good time. But even then, we’d never be able to track them; and our job of overtaking the expedition would be made all the harder. Still, we will not be the ones to give it up, Roger. Nothing could make us do that, could it?”
“No, indeed, it could not,” replied the other boy, firmly. “But, Dick—”
“Yes, what idea has come into your mind now?” asked the other lad, encouragingly.
“Why, when you spoke of turning the horses loose, and letting them have a chance of reaching the shore, I thought what a fine thing it would be if we were holding on to the saddles at that time. Why, they’d just tow us to land with them, you see!”
“Yes, if they got there, which isn’t a sure thing at all,” replied Dick. “But we will decide all that later on. Perhaps the river will rise only a little more, and then come to a stand-still. And, in case of the worst, we’ve always got that tree there. Even if it should be undermined by the flood, and carried away, we might stick in the branches.”
“And float down the river, you mean,” added Roger. “That would save our lives, of course; but think how we’d feel, going away from Captain Lewis mile after mile. Why, this makes me think of what our fathers told us about that flood up along the Ohio, that was the cause of their coming further West.”[5]
“That’s a fact, it does; and they came near being drowned in that same flood, too, didn’t they?” said Dick. “But let’s begin to get our packages ready, in case we have to climb this tree. It’s just as well to be prepared, even if we never have to carry out that plan.”
“But you really think we will have to, don’t you, Dick?” persisted the other.
“If the water gets high enough to cover our island, yes,” was the reply; “because there’s really no other way. But these summer floods come and go quickly. It isn’t like the early spring time, when the ground is frozen, and the downpour can find no way to soak into it, so that it all rushes off.”
Dick was a good fellow to have along on an occasion of this kind. He always managed to appear cheerful, no matter how seriously the conditions affected him; and besides this, he was so very fertile in resource. Seldom did there arise a sudden emergency but that Dick proved himself capable of suggesting an immediate remedy. In this particular he resembled his father, Bob Armstrong, who, in the old days on the Ohio, used to be looked up to by his younger brother, Sandy, on this account.
It was far from cheerful work, however, standing there keeping track of the gradual rise of the river. And it lacked the interest that they might have found in the task had they been at home, and only curious to know what height the water would reach before starting to as speedily decline.
Now they had everything at stake; and it meant great peril to them if the little island should be completely submerged.
Roger had constructed a contrivance whereby they were able to know just how fast the water rose. This was a stick which he had marked off in inches, and driven into the ground at the edge of the river. By consulting it every little while they were enabled to learn the truth, and it was a continued disappointment.
“It looks as if we’d have to climb, sooner or later, Dick,” declared Roger, when several hours had passed, and they had three times been forced to retreat before the advance of the flood, removing their “tally stick” on each occasion.
“I’m sorry to say it’s getting that way,” replied the other, shaking his head.
“But what about the horses?” demanded Roger.
“Well, we’ve got them here by the tree, and when we have to mount up among the branches we can turn them loose,” answered his cousin.
“But, Dick, if they have to go, poor things, why make it harder for them?”
“I see what you mean, Roger; you think we ought to cut the ropes now, and let them swim for the shore. It does you credit, too; but I hardly believe it would work.”
“Why wouldn’t it?” asked Roger.
“For this reason,” came the reply. “Horses are affectionate. They get accustomed to people, and these ones know us well, because we’ve raised them from colts. Now, the chances are that, if we turned them loose at this minute, they would refuse to leave us until the water forced them to swim. Even if you pushed one off the island, I feel sure he would try hard to get back again. So what’s the use of turning them loose now?”
“Perhaps that’s so,” admitted Roger. “I was only thinking of giving the poor beasts a better chance to get ashore; because the higher the water rises the harder it will be for them to swim.”
After that they stood watching and waiting; but with only the most dismal forebodings as to what was to come. And indeed it was anything but pleasant to think of being made prisoners in a tree that would be completely surrounded by a raging flood, perhaps for another night and day. And then the loss of their horses was going to make their task of overtaking the expedition all the harder.
So the morning passed, and while on several occasions Roger indulged in new hopes that the water had come to a stand at last, these were only fated to be dashed to the ground on his next anxious inspection of his “tally stick,” when he learned that the flood was actually making up for lost time.
“How much longer will we have, Dick?” he asked, when, for the third time, he had made this unpleasant discovery.
“At the rate it seems to be crawling up our stake, it will only be two hours until the water will be at the foot of this tree,” replied the other, who had already figured all this out.
“Two hours isn’t much time, is it, Dick?”
“Well,” replied the other, with a smile, “that all depends on the conditions. You can look back to lots of times when it would seem like an eternity. Remember that night when you slipped and fell over that precipice, just managing to get hold of a bush, and holding on while you shouted for me to come and help you up, because you couldn’t do anything yourself? If you’d had to hang there, kicking your heels in space, two hours, instead of ten minutes, I think they’d have seemed the longest you ever knew.”
“That’s so,” admitted Roger, smiling a little himself at the scene which his comrade’s words recalled. “And just as you say, Dick, we have been through a good many hard scrapes together, haven’t we; and always, up to now, managed to come out on top? Perhaps we’ll do the same this time, too.”
“Why, to be sure we will,” declared the other, stoutly, “don’t let any other notion get hold of you, Roger. It’s all bound to come out right; haven’t we been told that many times by our mothers, when things looked a little black—and didn’t the sky clear every time? We’ll escape from this island, overtake the expedition, get that paper signed by Jasper Williams, and bring joy to all our dear ones at home. Why, I’m just as sure of that, Roger, as that we’re standing here right now, wondering how we’re going to get ashore. But a way will be provided, mark my words.”
Never was a prophecy more speedily fulfilled. Hardly had five minutes passed than Roger clutched the sleeve of his cousin’s tunic, and in a voice that trembled with emotion, burst out:
“Look! oh! look, Dick, are my eyes going back on me—is this one of those mirages they told us we would meet with on the prairies; or is that really a boat—yes, two, three of them—down at the bend below, and working up against even all this fierce current? Three boats, Dick—wasn’t that what Captain Lewis had with him when he started away from St. Louis? Oh! speak and tell me if I am going out of my mind, and seeing things that I’ve been dreaming about so long!”
Dick laughed, and hugged his cousin with rapture.
“No, no, Roger, your eyes are all right, and the boats are there!” he cried. “We’ve only managed to get ahead of the expedition, that’s all. And we’ll be saved now, Roger! We’ve won out at last!”
After that neither of the boys could utter a word for a time. They just stood there, trembling with emotion, and staring at the moving figures down the river.
Then, as if by agreement, they turned and faced each other. Dick thrust out his hand impulsively, and it was instantly seized by his cousin. Indeed, Roger looked as though he could hardly restrain himself from throwing his arms about the neck of his companion, so greatly was he overcome; but probably the conviction that such an act, however natural, would seem weak and childish, restrained him. Boys in those days had so much responsibility placed upon their young shoulders that they had to call themselves men long before they reached the age of twenty-one.
By degrees they became somewhat calmer, and could even speak once more without betraying their emotion.
“They’re making headway against even that powerful current, don’t you see, Dick?” was what Roger remarked, as though something in the occurrence pleased him.
“Yes, it would have to be greater difficulties than that to keep those determined men from pushing forward,” observed Dick, in turn. “They have overcome everything that has cropped up to try and discourage them, up to now. And with such a leader as Captain Lewis, they are bound to cross all the way to the ocean.”
“But don’t you see that, if they can breast that current, they will be able to get us off this island trap?” continued Roger.
“I’m sure of that,” answered the other; “and now, Roger, let’s signal to them, for as yet they don’t seem to have noticed us standing here.”
“Then they’re due for the greatest surprise of the whole trip,” chuckled Roger. “It must be the last thing they’d ever think to see, a couple of white boys further up the river than they’ve come after all these months. Say when you’re ready, Dick, and we’ll call out hello!”
“Let it be now, then,” replied his comrade.
Together they sent out lusty hails, forming their hands into cups that would answer the purpose of a megaphone, though neither Roger nor Dick had ever seen such a thing, since it was utterly unknown at that day.
And indeed, when the sound of their voices reached the plucky explorers, there seemed to ensue something like a small panic.
Some of the men were seen to jump for their firearms, doubtless under the impression that they were about to be attacked by a strolling band of the fierce Sioux, always striving to be the lords of the northwest prairies.
Then they apparently discovered that the two on the little island amidst the swirling waters of the flood were white boys, and that they were beckoning wildly, as though trying to let the exploring party know they needed help.
After that some of the men hurried up the shore so as to sooner reach a point opposite the island. Among them the prisoners of the flood recognized the figure of Captain Lewis, himself; for they had seen him talking to others in St. Louis early in the spring, before the expedition started.
“Who are you, and how did you come there?” demanded the leader of the party, also using his hands in order to make his voice carry above the roar of the current.
“We come from St. Louis, and have been trying to overtake you!” replied Dick.
“I hope it is nothing serious; do you come with a message for me from the President? I trust he has not seen fit to recall the expedition, and abandon the plan for exploring the Great Northwest country?” the captain shouted next, doubtless a prey to many anxieties.
“No,” called out the boy; “we are only up here on private business connected with one who is among your number. We lost the river, and wandered several days; but, when we struck it again at this point, we must have gained enough to place us ahead. We have horses, and camped on this island when the water was low; but the storm came and trapped us. Do you think you can get us off, Captain Lewis?”
“Without a doubt we can,” the other answered, heartily, “and will very shortly, when the boats get up this far. Have no anxiety on that score, friends. But you seem to be only boys; is it possible that two such youths could make this long journey, and escape all the perils that lie in wait for white travelers in this region?”
“We have been very fortunate,” was Dick’s modest reply.
“Ah! you have been more than fortunate!” cried Captain Lewis, admiration in his tones; “and I shall be very proud to take you both by the hand. It is wonderful how you pioneer boys are built; nothing seems to daunt you. No wonder that some of the men with me are so ready to accept any hazards, when they spring from such stock as that. Have patience, lads, and we will soon be able to reach you.”
Neither of the boys had any longer the slightest doubt that their rescue was as good as accomplished. When such dauntless men set about doing anything they would not let difficulties stand in the way.
So, standing there, they watched with considerable interest as the boats were forced against that apparently resistless current of the swollen Missouri. At times stout poles were resorted to; and, when a particularly bad bend was to be negotiated, ropes came into play in order to warp the craft around the point where the water flowed swiftest.
In this fashion they would be able to make quite a number of miles during the course of a day, and every one counted as so much gained.
When finally the entire expedition had reached a point opposite to the island, they came to a halt, and preparations for the release of the prisoners were instituted.
A giant, carrying the end of a rope, plunged recklessly into the river above the upper end of the island, and battled with the current. He was of course swept down the stream, in spite of his sturdy efforts, but it appeared that he had calculated well, for he reached the shore of the island, and was able to crawl up the bank.
Then the rope was fastened to a tree, and those on the mainland drew it taut, so that it only dipped in the center into the water.
Under the directions of this experienced frontiersman, who turned out to be one of the Kentuckians forming a part of the expedition, the horses were one after the other started for the shore. A traveling ring on the rope was used to secure their stout rope bridles, and, once they were forced to plunge into the water, and kept from returning to the island, the intelligent animals seemed to understand what was required of them, and struck out for the mainland.
The rope served to keep them from being swept down-stream, so that in the end they emerged from the water, and shook themselves like dogs.
Meanwhile the boys had prepared for the passage, taking off a part of their garments, and making them into compact bundles, that were to be carried with their other few possessions remaining; for most of them had been attached to the horses, and were already safe ashore, awaiting their coming.
Dick insisted on going first, for he wanted Roger to observe what he meant to do, so that the more impetuous boy might pattern by his example. But Roger came close behind, since the rope was amply able to bear a double strain.
For a short time it was pretty exciting work, since the current was swift, and seemed to tear at them, as though determined not to be cheated out of its prey. But the boys had no difficulty in keeping hold of the rope, and thus hitching themselves along, a foot at a time.
Once past the middle of that portion of the river lying between the island and the shore, the worst was over; and every rod gained now meant an easier time, so that presently eager hands were outstretched to help them up the bank.
A shout that might have been heard far away attested the deep interest soldiers and frontiersmen had taken in the rescue. Every man came crowding up to squeeze the hands of the two lads, and declare that he was proud to welcome them to the ranks of the expedition. After all these weary weeks of battling with the current of the great river, and meeting every imaginable kind of danger and difficulty, it was like a breath from home to thus come upon two valiant young fellows, away up here in the land of the fighting Sioux.
It seemed almost incredible to think of mere boys capable of accomplishing such a task. No wonder both Captain Lewis and Captain Clark, his capable fellow commander, were pleased to welcome Dick and Roger.
“It seems to me I have seen you both before,” remarked the former. “It must have been in the settlement of St. Louis, while we were arranging the details of our long trip, and waiting for some of the men to arrive.”
“Yes,” replied Dick, “it was there, and you met our fathers, the Armstrong brothers, sons of old David Armstrong, who came from Virginia, settled on the Ohio, and finally made his way down the river to the Mississippi, acting under the advice of Daniel Boone, who was his life-long friend.”
“Now I remember you,” responded Captain Lewis. “Which one of you caught my runaway horse before he got fairly started? It was a quick action; and I believe I thanked whoever it was on the spot, and shook hands with the lad.”
“That was Roger, here, Captain Lewis!” declared Dick quickly, only too glad of the opportunity to bring his cousin into the light.
“But both of you are shivering with the cold, after getting wet,” remarked the soldier captain, William Clark. “See, some of my men have started fires, for we intend to cook our noonday meal at this spot. Go over there and keep warm, while some of us dry your garments. This has been the happiest event of the whole trip. Only it was a little unwise for you to camp on that island, when a storm threatened. The Missouri is a freakish stream, and you have to watch it closely, or it will catch you napping some time.”
“That was all my fault, Captain,” admitted Roger, frankly. “I am wild for fishing, and begged my cousin to cross over and camp there, so that I could watch my lines close to our little cooking fire. And while he gave in to me, I could see that it was really against his better judgment. But we were the luckiest fellows going to get out of the trap so easily. And we are happy to know that, after our long chase, we have caught up with you at last.”
Neither of the boys had as yet ventured to say anything regarding the nature of their mission. That would come later, when they found a better opportunity to chat with the genial leaders. And the advice given by the soldier was worth following, because, of a truth, they were both shivering with the coolness of the air after the storm, since the few garments they had on were thoroughly soaked.
It was a bustling scene that the boys looked on as they sat close to the fire, drying their clothes. How different things would be now, when they no longer had any reason to hide their fire. A force of twenty-one regular soldiers, as well as an equal number of young Kentuckians and frontiersmen, who acted as scouts and hunters, in order to supply fresh meat to the expedition, had little fear of the Indians.
Besides, their boats were arranged to be of more or less value to them as places of refuge in case of an attack, one of them being covered over, and capable of serving as no mean fortress, from behind whose walls they could pour their fire into the lines of any attacking force.
By the time a hot dinner had been cooked the boys were once more feeling comfortable, since their garments were all well dried. They sat down with the two comrades, as their especial guests, and it became apparent that Captain Lewis in particular had been much taken with both Dick and Roger.
As they ate and talked Captain Lewis finally introduced the subject that had been puzzling him so long.
“Would you mind telling us what caused you to take this daring journey, my lads?” he asked, with a kindly smile.
“An enemy of our fathers,” Dick went on to explain, “one François Lascelles, has managed in some way to secure a hold upon the property which was secured by our grandfather from the original French settlers above St. Louis, and threatens to take it away from them. His claim is undoubtedly a false one; but, unless we can secure the signature of a certain party to a paper we carry, it is certain that the entire valuable tract of land will be taken from our parents by spring, at the latest. Too late, it was learned that this man had agreed to join your force somewhere on the way. We started out after you had been gone for weeks; but, as we had good horses, and you had your boats to force up the river, we gradually came up on you, until now we have arrived.”
“Have you seen the one you are seeking among the men here?” asked the commander.
“We do not know him by sight, but his name is Jasper Williams,” replied Roger.
The face of Captain Lewis clouded.
“I am indeed sorry to hear that,” he said; “because only two days ago I sent Jasper Williams, whom I count as my best scout, to go on ahead, and make friends with the Mandan Indians, whose hunting grounds we will be approaching in a few weeks, and with whom I may determine to remain all winter. So that you will have to keep on with us until we can come up on him once more!”