Naturally enough, when Jack Carleton found himself standing close to the frolicking Indian boys on the clearing, he became interested in the game they were playing, which he saw was systematic, and in which all took part.
Like amusements of that sort, it was simple in its character and he quickly caught its drift. The boys divided themselves into two parties equal in numbers, one of which was ranged in line at the right of the clearing near the wood, while the other did the same at the other goal, which was a stump close to the stream. Each boy held a stick with a forked end in his hand, that being the implement with which the game is played.
When all was ready, one of the youthful Sauks walked out from the party near the woods, holding the stick with the crotch of a small branch supported at the point of bifurcation. This crotch was four or five inches in length, and as it was carried aloft, it looked like an inverted V, raised high so that all might see it.
Pausing in the middle of the clearing, the dusky lad with a flirt of the stick, flung the crotch a dozen feet in air and uttered a shout which was echoed by every one of the waiting players. Both sides made a furious rush toward the middle of the playground, where they came together like two mountain torrents, and the fun began. The strife was to get the crotch of wood to one of the goals, and each side fought as strenuously to help it along toward his own, as a side of foot-ball players struggle to do the opposite in a rough and tumble fight for the college championship.
Inasmuch as the only helps to be employed were the long, forked sticks carried in their hands, it will be seen that the game offered a boundless field for the roughest sort of play, mingled with no little dexterity and skill. Some swarthy-hued rascal, while on a dead run, would thrust the point of his stick under the crotch, and lifting it high above his head, start or rather continue with might and main toward his goal. At that time, as, indeed, at every minute, each young American was literally yelling like so many "wild Indians." Desperately as the youth ran, others more fleet of foot speedily overtook him, and one, reaching forward while going like a deer, lifted the crotch from the other stick, and circling gracefully about, sped for his own goal. But some youth at his heels leaped in air and with a sweep of his own stick struck the other and sent the crotch spinning and doubling through the air. A dozen other sticks were plunged after it, but it fell to the ground, and then the fight reached its climax. The parties became one wild, desperate, shouting, yelling, scrambling mob. Legs and arms seemed to be flying everywhere, and the wonder was that a score of limbs and necks were not broken. But it rarely hurts a boy to become hurt, and though bruises were plenty, no one suffered serious harm. After a few minutes' struggle, the crotch would be seen perched on the stick of one of the boys, who, fighting his way through the mob, ran with astonishing speed, with friends and foes converging upon him, and the certainty that he would be tripped and sent flying heels over head, before he could reach safety.
After awhile, when the prize had been gradually worked toward the goal of the stronger party, some youth, by a piece of skill and daring, would make a dash for home and bear down all opposition. It followed, of course, that his side had won, and, after a brief rest, the game was renewed and pressed with the same vigor as before.
This Indian boy's game is still played by many Indian tribes. Among the Senecas it is called "Gah-haw-ge," and I make no doubt that more than one reader of these pages has witnessed the exciting amusement, which so thrilled the blood of Jack Carleton that he could hardly restrain himself from taking part in the fun. But he had no crotched stick, without which he would have been a cypher, and then, as he had never attempted the game, he knew he possessed no skill. The venture would have been rash, for in the excited state of the Indian youths, and armed as they were with sticks, it is almost certain that at some stage of the game they would have turned on the pale face and beaten him to death.
The rough amusement lasted fully two hours, during which Jack Carleton and many of the warriors were interested spectators. At last the youngsters became weary and the sport ended. As the stumpy youths straggled apart, the perspiration on their faces caused them to shine like burnished copper. All at once one of them emitted a whoop and broke into a swift run, the rest instantly falling in behind him, and speeding with the same hilarious jollity.
The heart of Jack Carleton stood still, for the leading Indian was coming straight toward him.
"They're aiming for me," was his conclusion, as he gripped the handle of his knife and half drew it from his girdle.
But the whooping youth swerved a little to the right, and was ten feet away from the terrified captive when he dashed by with unabated speed. He did not so much as glance at Jack, nor did the procession of screeching, bobbing moon-faces, as they streamed past, give him the least attention.
The lad who set off with the lead, kept it up with undiminished speed, until he reached the edge of the river. Then he made a leap high upward and outward. Jack saw the crouching figure, with the head bent forward, the arms crooked at the elbow, and the legs doubled at the knees, during the single breath that it seemed suspended in the air. Then describing a beautiful parabola, he descended, and striking the water, sent the spray flying in every direction, while the body went to the bottom. The others followed, so fast that the dusky forms dropped like hailstones, tumbled over each other, splashed, dove, frolicked, shouted, and acted with the same abandon as before.
It is by such sports and training that the American Indian acquires his fleetness, high health, and powers of endurance.
But Jack had grown weary of watching the antics of the youngsters, and turned about and walked homeward. He saw from the position of the sun that it was near noon, and he was hungry; but he was more impressed by the change of treatment since his last affray than by anything else. He walked past five separate wigwams before reaching the imperial residence, which for the time being was his own. There were warriors, girls, and squaws lounging near each one. They raised their repellant faces and looked at the captive with no little curiosity, but offered him no harm.
When half way home, the flapping door of one of the conical wigwams was pushed aside, and the stooping figure of a large Indian boy straightened up and walked toward Jack, who, with an odd feeling, recognized him as the youth whom he had overthrown in wrestling, and afterwards knocked off his feet by a blow in the face.
"I wonder whether he means to attack me?" Jack asked himself, in doubt for the moment as to what he should do. At first he thought he would turn aside so as to give the young Sauk plenty of room; but that struck him as impolitic, for it would show cowardice.
"No, I won't give him an inch; he is alone, and if he wants another row, I'm agreeable."
It was hard for Jack to restrain a smile when he looked at the face of the Indian. It was exceptionally repulsive in the first place, but the violent blow on the nose had caused that organ to assume double its original proportion, and there was a puffy, bulbous look about the whole countenance which showed how strongly it "sympathized" with the injured part.
Although the American Indian, as a rule, can go a long time, like the eagle, without winking his eyes, this youth was obliged to keep up a continual blinking, which added to his grotesque appearance, as with shoulders thrown back and a sidelong scowl he strode toward the river. Jack returned the scowl with interest, and it scarcely need be said that the two did not speak as they passed by.
Feeling some fear of treachery, the captive kept his ears open, and watched over his shoulder until he reached his own wigwam, where he stood for a moment and gazed in the direction of the river, which was partly shut out by one of the intervening lodges. He was just in time to see the young Sauk of the battered countenance leap into the river, where, doubtless, he was able to do much toward reducing the inflammation of his organ of smell.
When the captive entered his home as it may be called, he saw the chieftain stretched flat on his back and snoring frightfully. The dog was asleep on the other side the fire, and the squaw, after toiling so long in the "corn field," was preparing the mid-day meal. She was a type of her sex as found among the aborigines, as her husband, even though a monarch, was a type of the lazy vagabond known as the American warrior.
At the side of the queen lay the gourd which usually contained water. Peeping into the round hole of the upper side, she shook the utensil, and the few drops within jingled like silver. She snatched it up, looked toward Jack, and grunted and nodded her head. If the lad could not understand the language of the visitor sometime before, he had no such difficulty in the case of the squaw. With real eagerness he sprang forward and hastened out of the wigwam to procure what was needed.
The one visit which he made the spring in the morning had rendered him familiar with the route, and it took but a minute or two for him to fill the gourd and start on his return. He found that a number of young girls had followed him, and were at his heels all the way back; but, though they talked a good deal about him, and displayed as much curiosity as their brothers, they did not molest him. Once, when they ventured rather too close, Jack whipped out his knife, raised it on high, and made a leap at them, expanding his eyes to their widest extent, and shouting in his most terrifying tone, "Boo!"
It produced the effect desired. The young frights scattered with screams of terror, and hardly ventured to peep out of their homes at the ogre striding by.
When Jack entered the lodge he found Ogallah awake. Evidently he was not in good humor, for his manner showed he was scolding his much better half, who accepted it all without reply or notice. No doubt she received it as part of the inevitable.
The chief, however, refrained from following the civilized custom of beating the wife, and when the meat and a species of boiled greens were laid on the block of wood which answered for a table, his ill-mood seemed to have passed, and he ate with his usual relish and enjoyment.
Jack Carleton crossed his legs like a tailor at his side of the board, but before he could eat a mouthful a violent nausea seized him, his head swam, and he was on the verge of fainting. Ogallah and his squaw noticed his white face and looked wonderingly at him.
"I'm very ill!" gasped Jack, springing to his feet, staggering a few steps, and then lunging forward on the bison skin, where he flung himself down like one without hope.
The violence of the attack quickly subsided, but there remained a faintness which drove away every particle of appetite, and it was well that such was the case, for had he taken any food in his condition the result must have been serious.
Meanwhile the squaw had assumed her place at the table by her liege lord, and both were champing their meal as though time was limited, and there was no call to feel any interest in the poor boy who lay on his rude couch, well assured that his last illness was upon him.
"What do they care forme?" muttered Jack, his fright yielding to a feeling of resentment, as the violence of the attack subsided. "I wonder that they spared my life so long. They would have been more merciful had they slain me in the woods as they did Otto, instead of bringing me here to be tormented to death, and as I know they mean to do with me."
Lying on his arm, he glared at the couple with a revengeful feeling that was extraordinary under the circumstances. A morbid conviction fastened itself upon him that Ogallah had taken him to his lodge for the purpose of keeping him until he was in the best physical condition, when he would subject him to a series of torturing and fatal ceremonies for the amusement of the entire village.
In the middle of these remarkable sensations exhausted nature succumbed, and the captive fell asleep.
When Jack Carleton awoke, it was night and the rain was falling. He was feverish and his brain was so overwrought that it was a full minute before he could call to mind where he was. His slumber had been disturbed toward the latter part by dreams as wild, vague and unimaginable as those which taunt the brain of the opium eater.
When he remembered that he was in the wigwam of Ogallah, the chieftain, he turned upon his side and raised his head on his elbow. The fire at the other end of the apartment that had been burning brightly, had gone down somewhat, but enough remained to light up the interior so that the familiar objects could be seen with considerable distinctness.
He observed the figure of the sachem stretched out in the dilapidated slouchiness peculiar to himself. He did not bother to remove any of his clothing, and, though the place was quite chilly he drew none of the bison robes over him. He had lain down on one, but had managed in some way to kick it half way across the lodge, and his couch, therefore, was the simple earth, which served better than a kingly bed of eider down could have done.
The favorite posture of the queenly consort was not a prone one, but that of crouching in a heap near the coals, where, with a blanket that had never been washed since it was put together years before, gathered about her shoulders, her skinny arms clasping her knees and her head bowed forward, she would sleep for hours at a time. The reflection of the flickering flames against her figure caused it to look grotesque in the fitful light, and the captive gazed at her for a long time, led to do so by an infatuation which was not strange under the circumstances.
There, too, was the dog which, could he have been given his way, would have done nothing all his life but sleep and eat. As was his custom, he was at the feet of his mistress, a position which he seemed to prefer above all others. Then the blankets, deer and bison skins, and rude articles hanging about the room, the two columns in the center supporting the clumsy roof, the craggy logs and sticks at the side, the hanging skin which served as a door and was barely visible, the tumble down appearance of everything, and withal the solemn stillness which brooded within the lodge: all these made the scene weird and impressive in a striking degree.
The fire burned so fitfully that it threw ghostly shadows about the apartment, sometimes flooding it with light, and again falling so low that the other end of the lodge could not be seen at all. Without, the night could not have been more dismal. There was no thunder or lightning, and the rain fell with that steady patter on the leaves, which at ordinary times forms the most soothing accompaniment of sleep, but which to Jack Carleton only added to his dismal dejection of spirits.
The roof of the lodge was so thick and diversified in its composition that the music of the patter on the shingles was lost. At intervals the wind stirred the limbs, and, though none of the trees were very close, the lad could hear the soughing among the branches, as the hunter hears it in early autumn when the leaves begin to fall.
Could the melancholy croaking of frogs in the distance have fallen on the ears of the boy, he would have had all the factors that go to bring on the most absolute loneliness of which a human being is capable. Unfortunately Jack did not need that addition to render his misery complete, for it was furnished by his own condition and situation.
"I am many long, long miles from home," he reflected, as a sharp pain gyrated through his brain, and the flickering fire seemed to be bobbing up and down and back and forth in a witches' dance; "and little hope is there of my ever seeing mother again. Ah, if I was only there now!"
He let his head fall back and heaved a deep sigh. He recalled his plain but comfortable bed, which became the most deliciously comfortable the mind can conceive, when his mother shoved the blankets in about him, or "tucked him up," as she never failed to do every evening he was at home; the good-night kiss from those affectionate lips; the magic touch of those fingers which pushed back the hair from his forehead, ere she bent over him with the last salute; the loving, caressing care when he was threatened with the slightest illness, which made the boy long for illness for the sake of such care: these and other blessed memories came back with a power which caused the eyes to overflow with sorrow.
Ah, fortunate is that boy, even though his years carry him to the verge of full manhood, who has his mother to watch over his waking and sleeping hours, and her prayers to follow his footsteps through life.
The pattering rain, the sighing wind, and the ghostly, semi-darkness soothed the sachem and his wife, but Jack Carleton was as wide awake as when pushing across the Mississippi in the half overturned canoe, with the fierce Shawanoes firing at him and his friends. Probably, in the entire Indian village, he was the only one who was awake. Had a band of Sioux or Iroquois stolen through the woods and descended on the Sauks they would have been found defenceless and unprepared.
Through one of the crevices behind Jack, came a draught of wind which, striking him on his shoulders, caused him to shiver. He moved a little distance away, and drew the bison robe closer about him, for though a raging fever was coursing through his veins, he knew the danger of subjecting himself to such exposure.
He was consumed with thirst, and seeing the clumsy gourd by the side of the sleeping squaw, he crawled forward on his hands and knees in the hope of finding water in it. Fortunately there was an abundance and he took a long, deep draught of the fluid, which was not very fresh nor cold, but which was the most refreshing he had ever swallowed.
Creeping back to his primitive couch, he continued a deep mental discussion of the question whether the best thing he could do was not to steal out of the lodge and make a break for home. There could be little, if any doubt, as to the ease with which such a start could be made. He had only to rise to his feet, pass through the deer-skin door, which was merely tied in position, and he could travel miles before morning and before his absence would be noted. The falling rain would obliterate his trail, so that the keen eyes of the Sauks would be unable to follow it, and he could make assurance doubly sure by taking to the water until a bloodhound would turn up his nose in disgust. Furthermore, he was confident that he would be able to obtain possession of his rifle and enough ammunition with which to provide himself food on the way home.
This was what may be called the rose-colored view of the scheme, which had a much more practical side. While under ordinary circumstances Jack would have been able to take care of himself at a much greater distance from home, and in a hostile country, yet the alarming fact remained, that he was seriously ill and such exposure was almost certain to drive him delirious, with the certainty of death to follow very speedily.
Though he took such a gloomy view of his own position among the Sauks (whose tribal name, of course, he had not yet learned), he was not without a certain degree of hope. He had suffered no harm thus far and it is always the unexpected which happens. While he had declared to himself that Ogallah was simply training him for the torture, as it may be expressed, yet it might be the chieftain being without children, meant to adopt him as a son. If such was his intention, manifestly, the best thing for Jack to do was to lie still and prayerfully await the issue of events. No doubt if you or I were in his sad predicament, that is the course that would have been followed, but Jack could not bring himself to submit to such inactivity when the prospect of liberty was before him. Allowance, too, must be made for the condition of the boy. He was scarcely himself, when, compressing his lips, he muttered,
"I won't stay here! They mean to kill me and I may as well die in the woods! I will take my gun and go out in the night and storm, and trust in God to befriend me as He has always done."
Aye, so He had; and so He will always befriend us, if we but use our opportunities and fly not in His face.
Carefully he rose to his feet, and, gathering the bison robe around his fevered frame, glanced at the two unconscious figures, and then at the form of his rifle leaning against the side of the lodge and dimly revealed in the flickering firelight.
As he stepped forward to recover his gun, everything in the room swam before his eyes, a million bees seemed to be humming in his brain, and, clutching the air in a vague way, he sank back on his couch with a groan, which awakened Ogallah and his squaw. The chief came to the sitting position with a surprising quickness, while the wife opened her eyes and glared through the dim firelight at the figure. The dog slumbered on.
Ogallah seeing that it was only the captive who was probably dying, lay back again on the bare earth and resumed his sleep. The woman watched the lad for several minutes as if she felt some interest in learning whether a pale face passed away in the same manner as one of her own race. Inasmuch as the sick boy was so long in settling the question, she closed her eyes and awaited a more convenient season.
From the moment Jack Carleton succumbed, helpless in the grasp of the fiery fever, he became sick nigh unto death. Those who have been so afflicted need no attempt to tell his experience or feelings. Why he should have fallen so critically ill, cannot be judged with certainty, nor is it a question of importance; the superinducing cause probably lay in the nervous strain to which he was subjected.
He instantly became delirious and remained so through the night. He talked of his mother, of Deerfoot, of Otto, and of others; was fleeing from indescribable dangers, and he frequently cried out in his fright. The chief and his squaw heard him and understood the cause, but never raised their hands to give him help.
Jack became more quiet toward morning and fell into a fitful sleep which lasted until the day was far advanced. Then, when he opened his eyes, his brain still somewhat clouded, he uttered a gasp of dismay and terror.
Crouching in the lodge beside him was the most frightful object on which he had ever looked. It had the form of a man, but was covered with skins like those of a bear and bison, and a long thick horn projected from each corner of the forehead. The face, which glared out from this unsightly dress, was covered with daubs, rings and splashes of red, white and black paint, applied in the most fantastic fashion. The black eyes, encircled by yellow rings, suggested a resemblance to some serpent or reptilian monster. The figure held a kind of rattle made of hollow horn in either hand, and was watching the countenance of the sick boy with close attention. When he saw the eyes open, he made a leap in the air, began a doleful chant, swayed the rattles and leaped about the lodge in the most grotesque dance that can be imagined. Ogallah and his squaw were not present, so Jack had the hideous creature all to himself.
Enough sense remained with the boy for him to know that he was the Medicine Man of the tribe, whom the chieftain had been kind enough to send to his help. Instead of giving the youth the few simple remedies he required, he resorted to incantation and sorcery as has been their custom for hundreds of years. The barbarian fraud continued to chant and rattle and dance back and forth, until Jack's eyes grew weary of following the performance. The mind, too, which was so nigh its own master in the morning, grew weaker, and finally let go its hold. Sometimes the waltzing Medicine Man suddenly lengthened to the height of a dozen yards; sometimes he was bobbing about on his head, and again he was ten times as broad as he was long, and hopping up and down on one short leg. From the other side of the lodge he often made a bound that landed him on the bison skin, which lay over the breast of the sick boy, where he executed a final tattoo that drove the last vestige of consciousness from him.
It was all a torturing jumble of wild and grim fancies, with occasional glimmerings of reason, which led Jack to clutch the air as if he would not let them go; but they whisked away in spite of all he could do, and a black "rayless void" descended upon and gathered round about him, until the mind was lost in its own overturnings and struggles, and all consciousness of being departed.
As nearly as can be ascertained, Jack Carleton lay the major part of four days in the Indian lodge, sick nigh unto death, with his brain topsy turvy. During that time he never received a drop of medicine, and scarcely any attention. The chief was gone most of each day, and the squaw spent many hours out doors, looking after her "farm." When the patient became unusually wild, she would give him a drink of water and attend to his wants. A few of the Indians peeped through the door, but as a whole they showed surprising indifference to the fate of the captive. Had he died, it is not likely he would have been given even Indian burial.
Several times the Medicine Man put in an appearance, and danced and hooted and sounded his rattles about the lodge, after which he took himself off and would not be seen again for many hours.
On the fourth day, while Jack was lying motionless on his bison skin and looking up to the composite roof, his full reason returned to him. Indeed, his brain appeared to have been clarified by the scorching ordeal through which it had passed, and he saw things with crystalline clearness. Turning his head, he found he was alone in the lodge, and, as nearly as he could judge, the afternoon was half gone. The fire had died out, but the room was quite warm, showing there had been a rise of temperature since the night of the rain. Peering through the crevices nearest him, he observed the sunlight was shining, and could catch twinkling glimpses of Indians moving hither and thither; but there was no outcry or unusual noise, and business was moving along in its accustomed channel.
With some trepidation and misgiving, Jack rose on his elbow and then carefully assumed the sitting position. Every vestige of dizziness had fled, and his head was as clear as a bell. He was sensible, too, of a faint and increasing desire for food; but he was equally conscious that he was very weak, and it must be days before he could recover his normal strength.
After sitting for a few minutes, he threw the bison skin from him, and rose to his feet. Having held the prone position so long, he felt decidedly queer when he stood erect once more. But he walked back and forth, and knew within himself that the crisis of his illness had passed and he was convalescent.
Of course it was Jack's vigorous constitution and the recuperating power of nature which, under Heaven, brought him round. The medicine man had no more to do with his recovery than have many of our modern medicine men, who, sit beside the gasping patient, feel his pulse, look at his tongue and experiment with the credulous dupe.
Jack Carleton possessed enough sense to appreciate his condition. Very little sickness had he ever known in life, but there had been plenty of it around him, and his mother was one of those nurses, whose knowledge far exceeded that of the ordinary physician, and whose presence in the sick room is of itself a balm and blessing.
The boy knew, therefore, from what he had learned from her, that the time had come when he must be extremely careful what he ate and how he conducted himself. Moving over to the unattractive table, he found some scraps of meat left. They were partly cooked, but likely as good for him as anything could have been. He ate considerable, chewing it finely, and finding his appetite satisfied much sooner than he anticipated.
But that for which Jack longed above everything else was a plunge in the cool water. His underclothing sorely needed changing, and he would have been absolutely happy could he have been in the hands of his tidy mother if only for a brief while.
However, there was no help for him, and he could only wait and hope for better things. After he had resumed his seat on the bison skins, a project took shape in his mind, which was certainly a wise and prudent one, with promises of good results. Knowing he was recovering rapidly, he resolved to keep the fact from his captors. While still gaining strength and vigor, he would feign weakness and illness, on the watch for a chance that was sure to come sooner or later, and which he would thus be able to improve to the utmost.
Convalescence revived with ten-fold force the desire to end his Indian captivity and return home. Uncertain as he was of the time that had passed since starting on his hunt, he knew that it was long enough to awaken the most poignant anguish on the part of his loved mother, who must suffer far more, before, under the most favorable circumstances, he could return.
When it was growing dark, Ogallah and his squaw entered. The latter quickly had the fire going and, as its glow filled the room, both looked inquiringly at the patient on the other side the lodge. He in turn assumed, so far as it was possible, the appearance of a person in the last collapse, and took care that the expression of his countenance should show no more intelligence and vivacity than that of an idiot.
The couple exchanged a few words, probably referring to Jack, but they seemed to care little for him, and he was glad that he excited so slight interest, since they were less likely to suspect the deception he was practicing upon them. The squaw, after cooking the meat, brought a piece over to Jack, who stared in an absurd fashion before shaking his head, and she turned about and resumed her place by the table, after which she lit her pipe and squatted near the fire.
The patient soon fell into a refreshing sleep, which lasted until it began growing light, when he awoke, feeling so well that it was hard to keep from leaping in the air with a shout, and dashing out doors. He was sure that he could hold his own in a game ofgah-haw-ge, if the chance were only given.
But he resolutely forced down his bounding spirits, though he could not suppress the feeling of hunger which was fast assuming a ravenous intensity. When the squaw offered him a half cooked piece of meat, he snatched at it with such wolf-like fierceness that the squaw recoiled with a grunt of dismay. Jack made sure he had secured the prize, when he devoured every particle, which luckily was enough fully to satisfy his appetite.
Whenever the boy saw the chief or his squaw looking at him, he assumed the role of a dunce, and it must be confessed he played it with unquestionable fidelity to nature. He probably afforded considerable amusement to the royal couple who could have had no suspicion that the hopeful youth was essaying a part.
When the forenoon was well along, the chief and his squaw went out, the latter probably to do the manual labor, while the former occupied himself with "sitting around" and criticising the style in which she ran the agricultural department of the household. The dog rose, stretched, yawned and then lay down again and resumed his slumber. Jack was meditating what was best to do, when the door was pushed aside, and the frightful-looking Medicine Man crouched to the middle of the lodge and glared at the patient, who looked calmly back again, as though he felt no special interest in him or anything else, but all the same Jack watched him with more entertainment than he had ever felt before.
First of all, the man with the horns and rattles, took amazingly long steps on the toes of his moccasins around the apartment between the two "columns" which supported the roof, as though afraid of awaking the baby. At the end of each circumambulation, he would squat like a frog about to leap off the bank into the water, and glare at the boy, the corners of whose mouth were twitching with laughter at the grotesque performance.
When tired of this, the Medicine Man stopped in the middle of the apartment, and all at once began using his rattles to the utmost, and dancing with the vigor of a howling dervish. He accompanied, or rather added to the racket, by a series of "hooh-hoohs!" which were not loud, but exceedingly dismal in their effect.
The sudden turmoil awoke the canine, which raised his head, and surveying the scene for a moment, rose, as if in disgust, and started to trot outdoors to escape the annoyance. As he did so, he passed directly behind the Medicine Man, who, of course, did not see him. At the proper moment he made a backward leap, struck both legs against the dog, and then tumbled over him on his back, with his heels pointing toward the roof. The angered pup, with a yelp of pain and rage, turned about, inserted his teeth in the most favorable part of the body, and then limped out of the wigwam with a few more cries, expressive of his feelings. The Medicine Man gave one frenzied kick and screech as the teeth of the canine sank into his flesh, and, scrambling to his feet, dashed out of the lodge with no thought of the dignity belonging to his exalted character.
Jack Carleton rolled over on his back and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks and he could scarcely breathe. It was the funniest scene on which he had ever looked, and the reaction, following his long mental depression, shook him from head to foot with mirth, as he had never been shaken before. He could not have restrained himself had his life been at stake. After awhile, he would rub the tears from his eyes, and break forth again, until, absolutely, he could laugh no more.
Laughter is one of the best tonics in the world, and that which convulsed Jack Carleton was the very medicine he needed. Though still weak, he felt so well that he could not have felt better.
"I've no business here," he exclaimed, coming sharply to the upright position and running his fingers through his hair in a business-like fashion; "every nerve in my body is just yearning for the cool breath of the woods, and I feel as though I could run and tumble over the mountains all day and feel the better for it. But I must keep it up till the way opens."
After thinking over the matter, he decided to venture outside. Rising to his feet, he walked briskly to the door, pulled the skin aside and passed out, immediately assuming the manner and style of a boy who was barely able to walk and then only with the greatest pain.
He expected a crowd would instantly gather around him, but he actually limped all the way to the spring without attracting any special attention. It was inevitable that a number should see him, and two youngsters called out something, but he made no response and they forebore to molest him further.
"If I should meet that chap that has found out he can't wrestle as well as he thought he could, he will hardly be able to keep his hands off me. Maybe he would find he had made another mistake, and maybe it would be I who was off my reckoning. However, I've my knife with me, and I will use that on him if there is any need of it, but I hope there won't be."
The water tasted deliciously cool and pure, and he bathed his hands and face again and again in it. He longed to take a plunge into the river, but that would have been impolitic, and he restrained the yearning until a more convenient season should offer.
Jack finally turned about and began plodding homeward, his eyes and ears open for all that could be seen and heard. It was a clear warm day, and the village was unusually quiet. Some of the squaws were working with their primitive hoes, the children were frolicking along the edge of the wood, where the shade protected them from the sun, and the warriors were lolling within the tepees or among the trees. More than likely the major part of the large boys were hunting or fishing.
Sure enough, Jack was still beyond the limits of the village, when he saw his old antagonist walking toward him. The Indian lad was alone, but several squaws and warriors were watching his movements, as though he had promised them some lively proceedings. Jack noticed that his nose had assumed its normal proportions, from which he concluded that more time than was actually the case had elapsed since he himself was prostrated by illness. The pugnacious youth advanced in his wary fashion, gradually slackening his gait until nearly opposite the pale face, who felt that the exigencies of the situation demanded he should brace up so as to impress the youth with the peril of attacking him.
While several paces separated the two, the Indian came to a halt, as if waiting for the other. It would not do to show any timidity, and, without changing in the least his pace, the pale faced youth partly drew his knife from his girdle and muttered with a savage scowl:
"I'm ready for you, young man!"
It cannot be doubted that the Indian youth intended to make an assault on Jack Carleton. He must have known of his prostrating illness and concluded that he was a much less dangerous individual than when they first met; but there was something in the flash of the captive's eye and a meaning in the act of drawing his knife part way from his girdle, which caused the young Sauk to hesitate. Evidently he concluded that much could be said for and against the prudence of opening hostilities.
Jack strode forward, with his shoulders thrown back and a scowl, as though he preferred that the youth should make the attack. He kept his gaze on the savage until some distance beyond him, the latter turning as if on a pivot and narrowly watching him to the very door of the lodge. Jack then withdrew his attention and took a survey of matters in front.
The same quiet which he had noticed a short time before held reign. The few Indians moving about paid no attention to the lad, with the exception, perhaps, of one: that was Ogallah, the chieftain who had just noticed him on his return from the spring. The noble head of the band was lolling in the shade of one of the wigwams, discussing affairs of state with one of his cabinet, when he observed the youth. Summoning all his latent energy, he rose to his feet and strolled in the direction of his own home. The moment Jack saw him, he assumed the most woe-begone appearance it was possible to wear. The defiant attitude and manner, which were a challenge of themselves, vanished: the shoulders drooped forward: the step became slouchy and uncertain, and the poor fellow looked as if about to sink to the ground in a final collapse.
Pretending not to see the sachem, Jack feebly drew the bison skin aside and pitched into the lodge. Glancing around, he found he was alone, whereupon he strode straight across the space, lay back on his couch, and kicked up his heels like a crowing infant.
"I must work off some of this steam or I shall burst," he said to himself, rolling and tumbling about in the very abandon of rapid convalescence: "It's hard work for me to play sick, but it must be done for the big prize that is at stake."
He kept close watch on the entrance, and, when a hand suddenly drew the skin aside and the bent figure of the chieftain came through and straightened up within the lodge, young Carleton had the appearance of a person whose sands of life were nearly run out.
Ogallah walked forward and examined him closely. He saw a youth who was unquestionably a "pale face," staring vacantly at him for a few seconds, and who then rolled on his face with a groan that must have been heard some distance beyond the lodge. Restless flingings of the limbs followed, and, when the sachem turned away, he must have concluded that it would never be his privilege to adopt the young gentleman into his family.
Toward night the squaw and dog appeared and the domestic economy of the aboriginal residence went on as before. When a piece of cooked meat was brought to Jack, he devoured it with a ferocity which threatened incurable dyspepsia, and he swallowed a goodly draught of water freshly brought from the spring.
Recalling the mistake he made while on the journey through the woods to the village, Jack Carleton resolved he would not fail through any similar forgetfulness. He fell asleep at that time on account of his exhaustion, but now the case was different: he had had enough slumber to last two days, while his brain was so clear and full of the scheme that it was impossible for him to rest until after it had been tested.
Nothing is more weary than the waiting which one has to undergo when placed in his position. The hours drag by with scarcely moving footsteps, and before the turn of night comes, one is apt to believe the break of day is at hand. From his couch, Jack furtively watched how things went, which was much the same as he had seen before.
The pup ate until they would give him no more and then stretched out at the feet of the squaw, who, having finished her meal, lit her pipe and puffed away with the dull animal enjoyment natural to her race. The chief himself led in that respect, and the two kept it up, as it seemed to Jack, doubly as long as ever before. At last they lay down and slept.
The captive had noted where his rifle was placed. It leaned against the side of the lodge where it had stood every time he saw it, so that, if he could steal out of the place in the night without arousing the inmates, it would be easy for him to take the gun with him.
The fire flickered and burned up, then sank, flared up again, and at last went into a steady decline, which left the room filled with a dull glow that would have failed to identify the objects in sight had not the boy been familiar with their appearance.
When convinced that the two were sound asleep, Jack repeated the prayer that had trembled so many times on his lips, rose as silently as a shadow, and began moving across the lodge on tip-toes to where his invaluable rifle leaned. Lightly would that warrior have need to sleep to be aroused by such faint footfalls.
The boy had not yet reached his weapon, when he was almost transfixed by the vivid recollection of the attempt he made to get away when on the journey to the village. He believed his liberty was secured, when he suddenly awoke to the fact that Ogallah and his warriors were trifling with him.
Could it be the chief had read in the captive's face the evidence of his intention?
This was the question which for the moment held life in suspense, while Jack Carleton stood in the middle of the dimly lit wigwam and gazed doubtingly toward the figures near the smoldering fire.
"Likely enough he is only pretending he's asleep, and, just as I am sure the way is clear, he will spring to his feet and grab me."
It was a startling thought indeed, and there were a few moments when the lad was actually unable to stir; but he quickly rallied and smiled at his own fears.
"If I once get my gun in hand, he won't be able to stop me——"
He was reaching forward to grasp it, when one of the embers fell apart, and a yellow twist of flame filled the apartment with a glow which revealed everything. Jack stopped with a faint gasp and turned his head, sure that the chief was on the point of leaping upon him; but he was as motionless as a log, and the hand of the boy was upraised again as he took another stealthy step forward. A half step more, and his fingers closed around the barrel. The touch of the cold iron sent a thrill through him, for it was like the palpable hand of Hope itself.
The powder horn lay on the ground beside the weapon, the Indian having made no use of either since they came into his possession. The string was quickly flung over the shoulder of the boy, who then began moving in the same guarded fashion toward the door, throwing furtive glances over his shoulder at the king and queen, who did not dream of what was going on in their palace.
Jack Carleton "crossed the Rubicon" when he lifted the rifle and powder horn from the ground. Had he been checked previous to that he would have turned back to his couch, and made the pretense that what he did was the result of a delirium. But with the possession of his weapon came a self-confidence that would permit no obstruction to divert him from his purpose. He would not have fired on the chief or his squaw (except to save his own life), for that would have been unpardonable cruelty, but he would have made a dash into the outer air, where he was sure of eluding his pursuers, so long as the night lasted.
But the slumber of the couple was genuine. They did not stir or do anything except to breathe in their sonorous fashion. Jack took hold of the bison skin to draw it aside, when he found the door was locked. It was an easy matter, however, to unfasten it, and a single step placed him outside the wigwam.
Instead of hurrying away, as his impatience prompted him to do, the youth stood several minutes surveying the scene around him. The Sauk village was asleep, and the scrutiny which he made of the collection of wigwams failed to show a single star-like twinkle of light. The night was clear, and a gibbous moon was high in the sky. Patches of clouds drifted in front of the orb, and fantastic shadows whisked across the clearing and over the wigwams and trees. The dwellings of the Indians looked unsightly and misshapen in the shifting light, and Jack felt as though he were gazing upon a village of the dead.
Turning to the southward, he faced the narrow, winding river. From the front of the chieftain's lodge, he caught the glimmer of its surface and the murmur of its flow, as it swept by in the gloom on its way to the distant Gulf. A soft roaring sound, such as we notice when a sea-shell is held to the ear crept through the solitude like the voice of silence itself.
Jack was impressed by the scene, but when he saw a shadowy figure flit between two of the wigwams, and was certain he heard a movement in the lodge behind him, he hastily concluded it was the time for action and not meditation. With a start that might have betrayed him, he quickly left his position and hastened away.
It was natural that the many hours devoted by Jack during his convalescence, to forming his plan of procedure, should have fixed the plan he meant to follow. Thus it was that the few minutes spent in front of the chieftain's lodge were not occupied in debating the proper course to take, and, when he once made a start, he went straight ahead without turning to the right or left.
The reader will readily see how great were the advantages on the side of the fugitive. He was certain of a fair start, which ought to have made his position absolutely safe, for if the American Indian is phenomenally skillful in following the trail of an enemy through the wilderness, that enemy, if he suspects such pursuit, ought to be able to throw him irrecoverably from the scent.
Furthermore, it is scarcely conceivable that the trail of Jack Carleton could be taken at the door of Ogallah's wigwam and followed as the warriors trailed a fugitive through the woods; for the ground whereon he walked had been tramped hard by multitudinous feet, and the faint impressions of the boy's shoes could not be individualized among the thousand footprints. It was far different from fleeing from a camp in the woods, where his trail crossed and was interfered with by no other, and where the slightest depression or overturning of the leaves was like the impression on the dusty highway.
The fugitive's first intention was to take to the woods, and guiding his course by the moon and sun, travel with all the speed and push at his command. Fortunately he was enabled to see that such a course was almost certain to bring disaster. Instead of doing that, he went directly to the river side, where he had seen the Indians frolicking in the water, and he himself had so often sighed for the same delicious privilege.
There were five canoes partly drawn up the bank and waiting the will of their owner. They were made of bark with curved ends, fantastically painted, and each was capable of carrying, at least, six or eight able-bodied warriors. They were so light that the lad found no trouble in shoving the first clear of the shore, and sending it skimming out into the stream. As it slackened its pace, it turned part way round, like a bewildered swan, as if uncertain which way to go. Then it sailed triangularly down current, much after the manner of Ogallah's dog when on a trot.
It was not more than fairly under way, when the second glided out after it, then the third, the fourth and finally the fifth and last. This contained Jack Carleton who took the long ashen paddle in hand and began plying it with considerable skill. He was paying less attention to his own progress than to the manipulation of the other canoes, which he had set free for a special purpose.
He kept the five in the middle of the current until a fourth of a mile was passed. Then he gave one such a violent push that it ran its snout against the bank and stuck fast. Some distance down stream he repeated the man[oe]uvre with the second boat against the opposite shore, continuing the curious proceeding until he was alone in the single canoe, floating down stream.
Jack Carleton reasoned in this wise:
In the morning Ogallah would notice his absence from the lodge and would make immediate search for him. He would quickly learn that the entire navy of his nation had vanished as completely as has our own, and the conclusion would be warranted that it had either run away with the pale face or the pale face had run away with the navy: at any rate they had gone off in company and the hunt would begin.
A quarter of a mile down stream, the first installment of the fleet would be found stranded on the southern shore, as though it was used to set the fashion followed by our country a century later. The conclusion would be formed that the audacious fugitive had landed at that point and plunged into the interior; but a brief examination would show the Sauks their mistake and they would rush on along the banks until the second craft was discovered, when the same disappointment would follow.
This would continue until every one of the five canoes had been found and examined. Inasmuch as the fifth contained Jack himself, it will be seen that more care was required in his case; but the programme had been laid out to its minutest details while the enemy was a guest in the lodge of the king.
After the fourth canoe had been stuck against the bank, the number lying on alternate sides, Jack removed his clothing and letting himself over the stern, plunged into the cool, refreshing current, where he dove, frolicked, sported, and enjoyed himself to the full—his happiness such that he could hardly refrain from shouting for very joy. He kept this up as long as prudent, when he clambered into the boat again, donned his clothing, floated a short distance further, and shot the craft into land with a force that held it fast.
A brief calculation will show that the boy had gone something more than a mile from the Indian village, and he had secured what may well be termed a winning lead; but much still remained to be done. He was now about to leave the element where even the trained bloodhound would be at fault, and step upon the land, where the keen eye of the Sauk warrior would follow his footprints with the surety of fate itself. Hence it depended on his covering up the tell-tale trail, unless chance, against which no one can guard, should direct his pursuers to it.
Both shores of the stream were covered with forest which grew to the edge of the water. In some places there was undergrowth which overhung the river, but it was not very plentiful. The position of the moon in the sky was such that most of the time the middle of the stream reflected its light, while the shores were in shadow. These looked indescribably gloomy, and but for bounding spirits which set the whole being of the lad aglow, he would have been oppressed to an unbearable degree. The course of the river for the first mile was remarkably straight, but it made a sweeping bend just before Jack ran his canoe into shore. His aim now was to quit the water without leaving any tell-tale traces behind. If he stepped ashore and walked away never so carefully, he would fail to do what was absolutely necessary. He believed he accomplished his purpose, by running the boat under some overhanging undergrowth, where he laboriously pulled it up the bank, until it could not be seen by any one passing up or down stream, and could be found by no one moving along the shore itself, unless he paused and made search at the exact spot. The probability of any Indian doing such a thing, it will be conceded, was as unlikely as it could be.
But, on the other hand, the first step the fugitive took would leave an impression which would tell the whole story, and it now depended on the manner in which he overcame that special danger. Carefully sounding the water, Jack found it was quite shallow close to land. He therefore waded a full hundred yards from the canoe before leaving the stream, and then, with his clothing saturated to his knees, he stepped ashore, took a score of long careful steps straight away, and his flight, it may be said, was fairly begun.
"I don't know that I have done so much after all," said he, when he had reached a point a hundred yards from the stream, "for some one of the Indians may strike my trail before sunrise to-morrow morning; but I have done all I can at the start, and if I can have a few miles the lead, it'll be no fun for them to overtake me."
There was no reason why such an advantage should not be secured, for, although the moon was of no help to him in determining his course, he had studied the whole thing so carefully while lying in the lodge of the chieftain Ogallah, that he was as sure of the direction as if he held a mariner's compass in his hand.
Jack, it will be borne in mind was in the southern portion of the present State of Missouri, the frontier settlement of Martinsville lying at no great distance westward from Kentucky, and north of the boundary line of Arkansas, as it has existed since the formation of that Territory and State. The Sauk party of Indians who made him captive had pursued an almost westerly direction, taking him well toward the Ozark region, if not actually within that mountainous section. It followed, therefore, that he should pursue the easterly course, for the stream along which he had been borne, had carried him almost due north, and it was not necessary for him to diverge in order to leave it well behind.
The fugitive lost no time, but pushed through the wood as fast as he could. It was hard to restrain his desire to break into a run, but he did so, for nothing could have been gained and much was likely to be lost by such a course. Despite the bright moon overhead, few of its rays found their way through the dense vegetation and foliage. Though he encountered little undergrowth, yet he was compelled to use his hands as well as his eyes in order to escape painful accidents.
The hours of darkness were valuable to Jack, yet he longed for daylight. He wanted to be able to see where he was going, and to use what little woodcraft he possessed. So long as he was obliged to keep one hand extended in front in order to save his face and neck, he could adopt no precautions to hide his footprints from the prying eyes of his enemies. He knew he was leaving a trail which was as easy for his enemies to follow, as though he walked in the yielding sand. Much as he regretted the fact, it could not be helped so long as the darkness lasted, and he wasted no efforts in the attempt to do so. It would be far otherwise when he should have daylight to help him.
Fortunately perhaps, he had not long to wait. He had not gone far when he observed the increasing light which speedily announced the rising of the sun; but he was shocked to find that despite his care and previous experience in tramping through the wilderness, he had got much off his course. Instead of the orb appearing directly in front of him, as he expected it to do, it rose on his right hand, showing that instead of pursuing an easterly course he was going north—a direction which took him very little nearer his home than if he traveled directly opposite.
As may be supposed, Jack had no sooner learned his mistake than he faced about and corrected it.
"I've got my bearings now," he muttered confidently, "and I know too much about this business to drift off again. Hurrah!"
He could not deny himself the luxury of one shout and the toss of his cap in the air. This completed, he strode forward with more dignified step, and settled down to work, after the manner of a sensible youth who appreciates the task before him. He calculated that he was two or three miles from the Indian village, much closer than was comfortable, and he could not stop to eat or rest until it should be increased. He felt that this day was to be the decisive one. If he could keep beyond the reach of his pursuers until the setting of the sun, he would throw them off his trail so effectively that they could never recover it.
"And why shouldn't I do it?" he asked, confidently: "Deerfoot taught me how to hide my tracks, and I never can have a better chance than now, where everything is in my favor."
He alluded to the number of streams, the rocky and diversified surface and the general rugged character of the country through which his journey was leading him.
In such a region there must be numerous opportunities for covering his trail from the penetrating glance of those who had spent their lives in studying the ways of the woods. The stealthy tread of the shoe or moccasin over the flinty rock left no impression, but it was hardly possible to find enough of such surface to prove of value; but when he caught the gleam of water through the trees, his heart gave a leap of pleasure.
"Thisis what I wanted," he exclaimed, coming to a halt on the bank of a rapidly flowing creek, some fifty feet wide: "here is something that will wipe out a fellow's trail."
The current was fairly clear and rapid. It was evidently deep, and it seemed to the lad that it was the compression of a considerably wider stream into a space that added velocity to its flow. Its general course, so far as he could learn, was eastwardly, and was therefore favorable to him.
There was but the one way of utilizing the creek, and that was by floating over its surface. Jack could have strapped his gun to his back and swum a considerable distance, but that would have been a useless exertion attended by many discomforts. His purpose was to build a raft or float which would allow the current to carry him for a mile or so, when he could land and continue his journey.
Better fortune than he anticipated awaited him. While moving along the shore in search of logs and decayed wood from which to construct his float, he was astonished to run plump upon an Indian canoe, which was drawn up the bank beyond the probability of discovery.
"Well, now thatislucky!" exclaimed the gratified lad, who quickly added the saving clause, "that is, Ihopeit is, though where you find canoes, it is best to suspect Indians."
He looked for them, but no sign greeted eye or ear. He supposed the boat belonged to the tribe which he had left the night before, though it was somewhat singular that it should have been moored such a distance from home. Possibly this was a much used ferry where something of the kind was found convenient.
Nothing was to be gained by speculating about the ownership of the craft, but the part of wisdom was to make use of the means that was so fortunately placed within his reach. Without any delay, therefore, he shoved the frail structure into the water, leaping into it as it shot from shore. No paddle could be found on or about the vessel, and he used his rifle for the implement, as he had done more than once before. Holding it by the barrel, he swung the stock through the current and found it served his purpose well. A slight force is sufficient to propel an Indian canoe through or over the water, and the task was easy enough for Jack Carleton.
"It may be this boat belongs to some other Indians who do not live very far off, and if they should come down and find me sailing away with it, I don't know what would follow."
However, the opportunity was the very one he was anxious to secure, and he was too wise to allow any fancy that might cross his mind to frighten him from turning it to the best account. Guiding the canoe to the middle of the creek, he faced down current, and used his improvised paddle with all the skill and strength at his command. The stream, as I have said, ran rapidly, so that with his exertions he made good progress.
He was struck with the similarity of the shores to those of the larger stream which ran by the Indian village. The wood was dense, and at intervals was so exuberant that it looked difficult for a rabbit to penetrate. Then came long spaces where the forest was so open that he could look far into its depths. The course of the creek was so winding that he could see only a short distance ahead, and several times his own momentum carried him close into land before he could accommodate himself to the abrupt curve around which he shot with no inconsiderable speed.
There remained the comforting thought that every minute thus occupied was taking him further from his captors, who were without the means of following his trail; but at the very moment when Jack was felicitating himself on the fact, he was startled by a most alarming discovery.
The youth had stopped paddling for a few minutes' rest, when he observed that he was close upon a broad clearing which came close to the water's edge. He had scarcely time to notice that much when he saw several large conical objects, and before he knew it, he was floating in front of an Indian village, numbering some twelve or fifteen wigwams. Squaws, children, and even warriors were lolling about very much as in the Sauk village, from which he had fled only a short time before.
It fairly took away the breath of Jack. In all his fancies he had not once thought of anything like this, or he would have avoided running into what promised to prove a fatal trap.
"My gracious!" he gasped, "this is a little too much of a good thing; it'll never do at all."
The settlement was on the right hand bank of the stream, which just there had a northerly course. It was, therefore, on the shore where the fugitive desired to land. Dipping his improvised paddle, he drove the boat ahead with all the power he could command, and drew a breath of partial relief, when another sweeping curve shut him from sight.
It was apparent that the Indians failed to grasp the situation in its entirety. They were accustomed to see white men hunting and trapping in that region, and they may have felt no wish to molest one of their number, though tempted so to do by his unprotected situation. At any rate, they stared at the canoe without offering to disturb its occupant. The black-eyed youngsters gaped wonderingly, and Jack saw several point in his direction, while they doubtless indulged in observations concerning him.
But it need not be said that he was frightened almost out of his wits, and filled with self-disgust that he should have gone blindly into a peril against which a child ought to have mounted guard. The moment he felt he was out of sight of the redmen, who showed far less curiosity than he expected, he sprang ashore and shoved the canoe back into the current, which speedily carried it out of sight. Having landed, Jack hastened among the trees at the fastest gait possible. He was close to the village, although beyond sight. Glancing over his shoulder he expected every minute to see some of the dusky warriors, and to hear their whoops as they broke in pursuit.
It must have been that this particular Indian village felt little if any interest in the white youth who paddled in front of their door, for not one of the number made a move by way of pursuit.
When Jack had pushed through the wilderness for a couple of miles he formed the same conclusion, and dropped to a deliberate walk. The face of the country was rocky and broken, and he was confident that in many places he had left no trail at all. But, with that conviction came two others: he not only was tired but was excessively hungry. He had caught sight of game more than once while on the march, as it may be called, but refrained from firing through fear that the report of his gun would guide others who were hunting for him. At the same time he had twice heard the discharge of rifles at widely separated points. Probably they were fired by Indians on the hunt, or possibly some of the trappers of that section had not yet started on their long journey to St. Louis. At any rate when the sun had passed the meridian and the afternoon was well advanced, he made up his mind that he would take the first chance to secure food, no matter in what shape it presented itself.
He smiled to himself, when within the succeeding ten minutes he caught sight of a young deer among the trees less than one hundred feet in advance. It bounded off affrighted by the figure of the youth, who, however, was so nigh that he brought it to the ground without difficulty.
When he ran forward to dress it, he was surprised to find it had fallen within a rod of a ravine fifty feet deep.
This ravine, which had evidently been a cañon or ancient bed of some mountain stream, was twenty yards or more in width, the rocky walls being covered with a mass of luxuriant, creeping vines, through which the gray of the rocks could be seen only at widely separated intervals. The bottom was piled up with the luxuriant vegetable growth of a soil surcharged with richness.
Jack Carleton took only time enough to comprehend these points when he set to work kindling a fire against the trunk of a tree which grew close to the ravine. When that was fairly going, he cut the choicest slices from his game, and it was speedily broiled over the blaze. There was no water, so far as he knew, closer than the creek, but he did not specially miss it. Seasoned by his keen hunger, the venison was the very acme of deliciousness, and he ate until he craved no more.
Then as he sat down on the leaves with his back to the tree opposite the blaze, he probably felt as comfortable as one in his situation could feel. He had pushed his strength almost to a dangerous verge, when rest became a luxury, and as he leaned against the shaggy bark behind him, it seemed as though he could sit thus for many hours without wishing to stir a limb.
"I suppose," he said to himself in a drowsy tone, "that I ought to keep on the tramp until night, when I can crawl in behind some log and sleep till morning. It may be that one or two of the warriors from that last village are on my trail, but it don't look like it, and a fellow can't tramp forever without rest. I'll stop here for an hour or two, and then go ahead until dark. There's one thing certain,—I've thrown Ogallah and his friends so far off my track that they'll never be able to find it again."
If any conclusion could be warranted, it would seem that this was of that nature, and yet by an extraordinary chain of circumstances the very danger which was supposed to have ended, was the one which came upon the fugitive.
As he had anticipated, the method of his flight was discovered very early the succeeding morning, and many of the warriors and large boys started in pursuit. The hunt was pressed with a promptness and skill scarcely conceivable. It was inevitable that they should be puzzled by the singular proceeding with the canoes, and the pursuers became scattered, each intent on following out his own theory, as is the case with a party of detectives in these later days. The last boat was not found, but the identical youth who had fared so ill at the hands of Jack, came upon his trail where it left the river. His black eyes glowed with anticipated revenge, which is one of the most blissful emotions that can stir the heart of the American Indian.
The young Sauk might have brought a half dozen older warriors around him by uttering a simple signal, but nothing could have induced him to do so. He had his gun, knife, and tomahawk,—all the weapons he could carry and all that were possibly needed. He had learned long before to trail his people through the labyrinthine forest, and in a year more he expected to go upon his first war trail. He hated with an inextinguishable hatred the pale face who had overthrown him in the wrestling bout and then had struck him a blow in the face, which, figuratively speaking, compelled him to carry his nose for several days in a sling. Ogallah had protected the sick pale face from molestation, but now the chief was the most eager for his death.
The fugitive evidently believed he was safe against all pursuit, and it would therefore be the easier to surprise him. What greater feat could the young Sauk perform than to follow and secretly slay the detested lad? What a triumph it would be to return to the village with his scalp dangling at his girdle!
Holding his peace (though it was hard to keep down the shout of joy that rose to his lips), he bounded away like a bloodhound in pursuit.
Despite the precautions taken by Jack Carleton, the pursuer found little trouble in keeping to his trail, until it abruptly terminated on the bank of the creek, where advantage had been taken of the canoe. There he paused for a time at a loss what to do.
Of course he knew of the Indian village at no great distance down stream and on the other side. Familiar as he was with the creek, he kept on until he reached a place where it broadened and was so shallow that he waded over without trouble. The red men whom he visited were friendly with the offshoot of the Sauk tribe, so that no risk was run in going among them. When he did so, as a matter of course, he gained the very information he was seeking; the canoe with the fugitive in it went by the village early in the morning. The pursuer declined the offer of help and went on alone. He was hardly outside the village when he struck the trail again, and, knowing he was at no great distance from the youth, he followed with a vigor and persistency that would not be denied.
But during most of the time he was thus employed, Jack Carleton was similarly engaged, and, despite the energy of the young Sauk, the hours slipped by without bringing him a sight of the pale face, whose scalp he meant to bring back suspended to his girdle. The fugitive had about recovered his usual health, and he improved the time while it was his. Had he pushed forward until nightfall before halting for food or rest, he never would have been overtaken.
But the signs showed the dusky youth that he was close upon the unsuspicious pale face, and he strode along with the care and skill of a veteran warrior. Finally his trained senses detected the smell of burning wood, and a moment later he caught sight of the camp-fire of Jack Carleton. The Indian stopped, and after some reconnoitering, concluded he could gain a better view from the other side the camp. With incredible pains he moved around to that side and was gratified by a success which glowed in his swarthy countenance and through his well-knit frame.
He saw the pale face sitting on the ground, with his back against a tree, his mouth open, and his eyes closed. His gun rested on the ground beside him, and the wearied fugitive was asleep, and as helpless as an infant.
The Sauk had only to raise his gun, take a quick aim, and shoot him dead, before he awoke or learned his danger. He could leap upon and finish him with his knife, but that would involve some risk to himself. He decided to drive his tomahawk into the skull of his victim, and to scalp him immediately after.