Deerfoot the Shawanoe darted among the trees and ran a hundred yards with great swiftness. He seemed to avoid the trunks and limbs with the ease of a bird when sailing through the tree tops.
Coming to a halt, he looked around. He had not followed a direct course into the woods, but turning to the right, ran parallel to the open space which bordered the stream. He knew the Pawnees would do their best, either to capture or kill him. So long as there was a chance of making him prisoner, they would do him no harm, for the pleasure of acting as they chose with such a captive was a hundred fold greater than that which could be caused by his mere death. The American Indian is as fond of enjoying the suffering of another as is his civilized brother.
The burst of speed in which the youth indulged gave him a position where it would require some searching on the part of the Pawnees to discover him; but they were at work, as speedily became evident.
A few seconds only had passed, when he caught sight of several forms flitting among the trees. While they were separated from each other by two or three rods, they were not far off, and their actions showed they had observed him at the same moment he detected them. They made no outcry, but, spreading still further apart, acted as if carrying out a plan for surrounding him.
Deerfoot was too wise to presume on his fleetness of foot, and he now broke into a loping trot which was meant to be neither greater nor less than the gait of his pursuers. Glancing back he saw they were running faster than he, whereupon he increased his speed.
Suddenly one of them discharged his gun, and a moment later another shot was heard. The first bullet sped wide, but the second clipped off a dead branch just above the head of the fugitive. There was no mistake, therefore, as to the purpose of those who fired.
It was not the first time that Deerfoot had served as a target for the rifle of an enemy, and though never wounded, his sensations were any thing but pleasant. Where a good marksman failed, a poor one was liable to succeed: for the most wonderful shots are those made by chance.
Deerfoot now ran as fast as he dared, where branches and tree trunks were so numerous. Glancing to the rear, as he continually did, he noticed that two of the Pawnees were leading in the pursuit. The thought came to him that no better time could be selected for teaching them the superiority of the bow over the rifle.
As he ran, he drew an arrow from the quiver over his shoulder and fitted it to the string. This was difficult, for the long bow caught in the obstructions around him and compelled him to slacken his pace. Then, like a flash, he leaped partly behind a tree and drew the arrow to a head.
The Pawnees must have been amazed to discover, while in full pursuit of an enemy, that he had vanished as though swallowed by some opening in the earth; for the action of the fugitive was so sudden that it was not observed. They ran several rods further, during which Deerfoot made his aim sure. As they had discharged their guns, and had not yet slackened their pace to reload them, he had no fear of being hurt.
All at once the foremost Pawnee saw the long bow, with the gleaming eyes behind the arrow, whose head was supported by the right hand which grasped the middle of the bow.
"Whoof!" he gasped, dropping to the earth as if pierced through the heart. His action saved his life, for a second sooner would have enabled the matchless archer to withhold the shot, which was as unerring as human skill could make it. Though the flight of the feather-tipped missile could be traced when the spectator stood on one side of the line, yet the individual who was unfortunate enough to serve as a target, could not detect its approach.
Just as the leader went down, a quick whiz was heard, and the arrow clove the space over him. Had his companion been in line he would have been pierced, but he was just far enough to one side, to be taught a lesson.
The strongly-driven missile went through the fleshy part of his arm, and sped twenty feet beyond, nipping several branches and twigs before its force was spent. No doubt the American race as a rule is hardy and stoical, but the stricken Pawnee acted like a schoolboy. Dropping his gun, he clasped his hand over the wound, and emitted a yell which surpassed everything in that line that had been heard during the day.
Even the warrior on the ground called to him to hold his peace, and the wounded Pawnee, awaking perhaps to a sense of the unbecoming figure he was cutting, compressed his thin lips and became silent.
But the other took good care to reload and prime his rifle before rising, and even then he came up with the utmost slowness, peering toward the tree from which had come the missile. He was not surprised because he saw nothing of the Shawanoe. Having discharged the weapon, it was natural that the latter should shelter himself from the bullet that was to be expected in return. Deerfoot (so reasoned the Pawnee), would not dare show himself again; but therein the warrior made a mistake.
The latter slowly came up, his form in a crouching position, his head about four feet above ground, while his eyes were fixed on the tree from behind which had sped the well nigh fatal missile.
"He will soon show himself," must have been the thought of the Indian, "the bullet can travel faster than the arrow."
At that moment his companion, who was still clasping his wounded arm, uttered a warning cry. He had discovered the Shawanoe behind another tree, aiming a second arrow at the breast of the leader.
With incredible dexterity, Deerfoot had run to a trunk fully twenty yards from the one which first sheltered him. He crouched so low and passed so swiftly that he reached the shelter before there was a possibility of discovery. It was accident which led the second warrior to detect the long bow, bending almost like a horseshoe, with the arrow aimed at the other.
The latter could not grasp in an instant the full nature of the peril which impended, though, as a matter of course, he knew it must be at the hands of the Shawanoe. He cast one glance around him, and again dropped on his face, but this time the arrow was quicker than he.
Zipcame the missile straight for the brawny chest which never could have dodged from its path in time to escape; but, as if fate had determined to interfere, the pointed flint impinged against a tiny branch protruding from the tree nearest the Pawnee, clipping off enough of the tender bark to leave a gleaming white spot, and glanced harmlessly beyond.
Deerfoot was astonished beyond measure. He had discharged two arrows at the foremost foe, and had failed to harm a hair of him. Such a double failure had never before taken place in his history.
But the cause was self-manifest. The Indian dodged the first, and the twig turned the second aside. All this was natural enough, but the fact which impressed the young Shawanoe was that it would have taken place in neither case had he used a rifle. Was it a wise thing, therefore, when months before, he had flung aside his gun and taken up his bow again?
Deerfoot had asked himself the same question more than once since that time, and the doubt had deepened until he could no longer believe he was wise in clinging to his bow and arrow, great as was his skill in their use.
But a third arrow was quickly drawn, and stepping from behind the tree, so that he stood in full sight, he swung his hand aloft with a defiant shout, and coolly walked away, as though the warriors were too insignificant to be noticed further.
The wounded Pawnee was so much occupied with his hurt that he was willing the youth should leave the neighborhood without further molestation from him. Taking care to keep an oak fully a foot in diameter between them, he was content to let him depart in peace.
Not so with the other, who, waiting only long enough to make sure the back of the youth was toward him, straightened up and brought his rifle to his shoulder. The distance was considerable, but he ought to have reached the mark, and probably would have done so, had not a disturbing cause prevented.
While sighting along the barrel, the startling fact broke upon him that the face of Deerfoot was toward him, and he was in the act of drawing a third arrow to the head: He had whirled about almost at the same instant that the Pawnee leveled his gun. To say the least, it was very disconcerting, and, anxious to anticipate the Shawanoe, the other fired before he could be certain of his aim. The bullet went so wide that Deerfoot heard nothing of its passage among the branches around him.
Although it looked as if the Shawanoe had the other at his mercy, yet he refrained from discharging the arrow. In fact, his whole action was designed rather to disconcert the Pawnee than to injure him. Not only had Deerfoot's confidence in his bow and arrow weakened, but the two escapes of the Pawnee gave him a half-superstitious belief that it was intended the latter should not be injured. He, therefore, relaxed the string of the bow, but, without replacing the arrow in the quiver, he strode off, continually glancing back to make sure the Pawnee did not use the advantage thus given him.
You will understand that the pursuit of Deerfoot the Shawanoe was not confined to the two Pawnees, whom he thwarted in the manner described. Their superior activity simply brought them to the front and hastened the collision.
It will be seen, therefore, that the incidents must have taken place in a brief space of time: had it been otherwise, Deerfoot would have been engaged with the entire party. No one could have known that better than he. The whoops, signals and reports of the guns could not fail to tell the whole story, and to cause the Pawnees to converge toward the spot. In fact, when Deerfoot lowered his bow and turned his back for the second time on the warrior, he caught more than one glimpse of other red men hastening thither.
Dangerous as was the situation of the youth, he did not forget another incident which was liable to add to the difficulty of extricating himself. From the moment he began his flight several of the Pawnees gave utterance to shouts which were clearly meant as signals. These had been repeated several times, and Deerfoot could form no suspicion of their full meaning. Had the red men been Shawanoes, Wyandots or almost any tribe whose hunting grounds were east of the Mississippi, he would have read their purpose as readily as could those for whose ears they were intended.
The interpretation, however, came sooner than was expected.
Deerfoot ran a little ways with such swiftness that he left every one out of sight. Then he slackened his gait, and was going in a leisurely fashion, when he came upon a narrow creek which ran at right angles to the course he was following. The current was swift and deep, and the breadth too great for him to leap over.
He saw that if he ran up or down the bank too far, he was likely to place himself in peril again. He could have readily swam to the other side, but preferred some other means, and concluded to take a minute or two in looking for it.
A whoop to the left and the rear made known that no time was to be lost. He was about to run in the opposite direction, when he caught sight of the bridge for which he was hunting. A tree growing on the opposite side had fallen directly across, so that the top extended several yards from the shore. The trunk was long, thin, covered with smooth bark, and with only a few branches near the top, but it was the very thing the fugitive wanted, and, scarcely checking his gait, he dashed toward it, heedless of the Pawnees, a number of whom were in sight.
He slowed his pace when about to step on the support, and placing one foot on the thin bridge, tested it. So far as he could judge it was satisfactory, and, balancing himself, he began walking toward the other shore. Only four steps were taken, when a Pawnee stepped upon the opposite end, and advanced directly toward the Shawanoe.
It began to look, after all, as though Deerfoot had presumed too far on his own prowess, for his enemies were coming fast after him, and now, while treading the delicate structure, he was brought face to face with a warrior as formidable as Lone Bear or Eagle-of-the-Rocks.
But there was no time to hesitate. The Pawnee had caught the signals from the other side of the stream, and hurried forward to intercept the enemy making his way in that direction. He advanced far enough from the spreading base of the tree to render his foothold firm, when he braced himself with drawn knife, to receive the youth. He had flung his blanket and rifle aside, before stepping on the trunk, so as not to be hindered in his movements.
His painted face seemed to gleam with exultation, for, if ever a man was justified in believing he had a sure thing it was that Pawnee warrior, and if ever a person made a mistake that Pawnee warrior was the individual.
Instead of turning back Deerfoot drew his knife, and grasped it with his right hand, as though he meant to engage the other in conflict where both had such unsteady footing. Had the young Shawanoe held such a purpose, his left hand, but the Pawnee, having never seen him before, could not know that, and he was confident that the slaying of the youth was the easiest task he could undertake.
Deerfoot not only continued his advance, but broke into a trot composed of short, quick steps, such as a leaper takes when gathering on the edge of a cliff for his final effort. He still held his bow in his left and his knife in his right hand, and tightly closing his lips, looked into the eyes of the Pawnee.
Just as the latter drew back his weapon with the intention of making the decisive blow, and when two paces only separated the enemies, the Shawanoe dropped his head and drove it with terrific force against the chest of the Pawnee. The latter was carried off the log as completely as if he had been smitten with a battering ram.
He went over with feet pointing upward, and dropped with a splash into the stream. The blow was so violent indeed that the breath was knocked from him, and he emitted a grunt as he toppled off the support. As he disappeared, Deerfoot, too, lost his balance, but he was so close to land, that he leaped clear of the water. Then, as if he thought the Pawnee might need his blanket and rifle, he picked them up and tossed them into the stream after him.
Incidents followed each other with a rush, and the report of two guns in quick succession reminded the youth that it would not do to linger any longer in the vicinity; but assured now of the meaning of the signals which he had heard, he scanned the woods in front, as much as he did those in the rear. It was well he did so.
By calling into play his magnificent fleetness, he rapidly increased the distance between him and his enemies, but was scarcely able to pass beyond their sight, before, to his astonishment, he found he was confronted by two other warriors, coming from the opposite direction. They were doubtless on a hunt when signaled by the large party to intercept an enemy fleeing from them.
It began to look to Deerfoot as though he had struck either a settlement of Pawnees, or a very large war party, for, beyond question, the "woods were full of them". To have continued straight on would have brought about an encounter with the two, and there was too much risk in that, though from what the reader learned long ago of Deerfoot, it is unnecessary to say that he would not have hesitated to make such a fight, had there been a call to do so.
Truth to tell, the red men were firing off their guns too rapidly to allow the fugitive to feel comfortable. Thus far, although he had swept his foes from his path, as may be said, he had refrained from slaying any one. He would not take life unless necessary, but he began to doubt whether he had acted wisely in showing mercy. Had he pierced two or three of his foes through and through, the others would not have been so enthusiastic in pursuing him across stream and through wood.
At any rate, he decided to be more resolute, and when necessary, drive a shaft "home".
The moment he observed the two Pawnees advancing from a point in front, he made another change in his course. This time it was to the right, and again he put forth a burst of speed the like of which his enemies had never seen. He passed in and out among the trees, and through the undergrowth, with such bewildering swiftness, that, though he was within gunshot, neither would risk firing, where it was more difficult to take aim than at the bird darting through the tree tops.
The last act of the fugitive had, as he believed, thrown all his pursuers well to the rear. When he made the turn, the two whom he last encountered tried to head him off by cutting across, as it may be called, but they relinquished the effort when they saw how useless it was.
Thus far, though Deerfoot had been placed in situations of great danger, he had managed to free himself without any effort that could be deemed unusual for him, though it would have been remarkable had it been performed by any one else. But now, when it began to look as if the worst were over, he was made aware that the most serious crisis of all had come.
At the moment when he began to lessen his speed, simply because the intervening limbs annoyed him, he made the discovery that still more of the Pawnees were in front. He caught the glimmer of their dress between the trees scarcely, more than a hundred yards in advance, and, instead of one or two, there were at least five who were drawing near.
These were what may be called strangers, since they and Deerfoot now saw each other for the first time. Had they known the exact circumstances, they would have kept out of sight until the fugitive had run, as may be said, into their arms; but, like the rest, they were moving toward the camp, in obedience to the signals, keeping a lookout at the same time for the enemy that they knew was somewhere in the neighborhood. The reason they had not put in an earlier appearance was because they were further off than the rest.
At the moment Deerfoot observed them, he was not far off from the winding stream over which he had passed on the fallen tree. Like a flash, he turned about and ran with his own extraordinary fleetness, directly over his own trail.
It will be seen that the peril of this course reached almost a fatal degree, for the other Pawnees could not be far off, and a very brief run would take him in full sight of them.
The last comers showed more vigor than the others. The glimpse they caught of the strange warrior dashing toward them, told the whole truth. The sight of a man running at full speed with a whooping mob a short distance behind, is all the evidence needed to prove he is a fugitive. Besides, when the Pawnees bore down on Deerfoot they knew far more of the neighborhood than he, and were sure he was entrapped.
The purpose of the Shawanoe was to put forth his utmost swiftness, hoping to place himself, if only for part of a minute, beyond sight of his enemies. Though he made the closest kind of calculation, circumstances were against him, and he not only failed to disappear from the last two, but, short as was the distance he doubled on his own trail, it took him into the field of vision of the parties whom he had eluded but a few minutes before. So it came about that he was in full view of a number of enemies, rapidly converging toward him, while a deep, swift stream was flowing across his line of flight.
The success of the pursuers now looked so certain that their leader emitted several whoops, a couple of which were meant as a command for none to fire: the Shawanoe was cornered and they meant to make him prisoner.
It need not be said that under the worst conditions the capture of the young warrior would have been no easy matter. He could fight like a tiger when driven into corner, and his great quickness availed him against superior strength. He had bounded out of more desperate situations than any person of double his years, and, knowing that no mercy was to be expected from the warlike Pawnees, it must have been a strange conjunction of disasters that could compel him to throw up his hands and yield.
Deerfoot had crossed one stream on his way to the Pawnee camp, and it was no task to swim one of double the width; but the skillful swimmer can advance only at a slow rate through the water, and, before he could reach the other shore, a half dozen Pawnees would be on the bank in the rear, waiting for him to reappear. He was a master of the natatorial art, but he was not amphibious, and soon would have to come to the surface or die. The watchers would be quick to detect him, and their position was so much the superior of the fugitive that his capture was inevitable.
Suddenly Deerfoot seemed to see that there was but the one thing to do; turning again, he faced the stream which was but a few rods distant, and ran toward it. The undergrowth was abundant, but his head and shoulders were seen, as under the swift doublings of his limbs, they shot forward as if borne on the back of an invisible express engine.
The thrilling run lasted but a second or two; then, having reached the margin of the stream, the fugitive was seen to gather himself and rise like a bird on the wing. He had made a prodigious leap toward the other shore.
The Pawnees uttered several cries of exultation, for no doubt remained of their success. For one instant the figure was suspended in mid air, and then it descended. The pursuers heard the loud splash, and were on the spot before the most skillful swimmer could have taken three strokes or forced his body an arm's length through the water.
The leading Pawnee saw the ripples made in the swift current by the Shawanoe, whose body was out of sight, for he had not been given time in which to rise. As the current was too powerful to permit any one to swim against it (besides which such an expenditure of strength could gain nothing), it followed that the youth must either come up near the spot where he went down, or some distance below it.
The supposition would be that, helped by the momentum of his own body, Deerfoot would aim for the other shore. Fearful of attempting to climb the opposite bank with a half dozen standing just behind him with loaded guns, he would try to keep out of sight by thrusting just the point of his nose above the water, so as to gain a breath of the indispensable air.
But two facts rendered this impossible. In the first place, the water was remarkably clear, so that a body only a fractional part of the size of the youth, could not come within a foot of the surface without being seen. Besides, the vegetation on the other side did not overhang the current (as it did in one or two instances which perhaps my readers will recall), so nothing there could serve to screen such a movement. A third obstacle to such strategy may be mentioned: the stream along shore was shallow, while with the two conditions first mentioned in his favor, water to permit the most absolute freedom of movement was indispensable. Enough has been said, however, to prove that the feat was beyond the reach even of such a marvel as Deerfoot the Shawanoe.
The leader of the Pawnees repeated his warning against shooting the fugitive—that is, against killing him. If there seemed to be danger of his getting away, they were to fire so as to disable without slaying him. It would be an easy matter to bring him down without endangering his life.
As if to shut out all hope for the Shawanoe, three of the warriors who seemed to be wandering everywhere through the woods appeared at this moment on the other shore. They were given to understand the situation, and joined the parties that waited for the reappearance of the youth, who seemed to have disported himself like a very demon since coming into that vicinity.
The Pawnees were so distributed along the bank that the very instant a swimmer should approach the surface from below, he would be observed by several spectators. And thus stood and waited the swarthy warriors for the sight which was never to come to them.
None could know better the length of time it is possible for a person to live under water than did the Pawnees who lined the shore of the stream from which they awaited the young Shawanoe to rise and surrender himself.
At such times the seconds seem long, but in due time they grew into minutes, until one, two, three, four, and fully five had gone by, and still nothing was seen of the Shawanoe, who, they were assured, had leaped into the river. Before this, the warriors looked wonderingly at each other, unable to guess what it could all mean.
Had he bounded across the creek? Wide as it was, the possibility had been considered from the first, and, when the seconds were well along, the leader called to those on the other side to examine the margin for the imprints of the Indian's moccasins. Striking with such force, the dents would be in sight from across the stream. As it was easy to identify the spot where he made the leap, it was equally easy to determine the precise point where the telltale footprints should appear.
But the minute scrutiny of the edge of the creek proved that no moccasin had touched it. And that being the case, the question came back as to what had become of the fugitive.
"The dog of a Shawanoe is at the bottom," was the natural remark of the leader. "He has gone down, and the Great Spirit is so angry with him that he will not permit him to rise."
That was a curious explanation of the occurrence, but it appeared to be about the only one left to the pursuers, who were not fully satisfied even with that. We are aware that a person who springs into the water, even if he can not swim a stroke, is pretty sure to come up once or twice. The Pawnees knew of a verity that the Shawanoe must be an excellent swimmer, and it certainly was inexplainable if he did not reappear.
"Did he leave the shore?" asked one of those who had approached from the side toward which Deerfoot had sped.
"We saw him run for it as runs the deer," was the reply.
"But the Shawanoe is like the weasel; he may have turned aside and sped up or down the stream, with his head bent so low that he could not be seen."
"The eyes of Wimmoroo were open," said the leader, who, in spite of his assurance, began to feel suspicious that some trick had been played upon them, though, as yet, he could not define its nature.
"What did the eyes of Wimmoroo tell him?" asked the other, showing a Yankee-like persistency in his questions.
"They showed him the dog of a Shawanoe, as he bounded high in air and strove to reach the other shore."
"Can Wimmoroo make sure the Shawanoe did not leap in the air and then place his feet on the ground where they were before?"
Could it be possible that such a strategy had been used? He began an examination, two of his warriors helping him. There were the footprints of the delicate moccasins in plain sight, showing where he had leaped clear from the ground, but not the faintest impression was visible either to the right or left of the spot. Inasmuch as the fugitive could not have fled in either direction without leaving a trail, and the closest search failed to show any thing of the kind, the conclusion was inevitable that no such flight had taken place.
Besides—how came Wimmoroo to forget it?—all caught the splash of the body as it dropped in the water. As might be expected witnesses were not wanting to declare they had seen the spray fly upward, and had caught sight of the eagle feathers in the crown of Deerfoot as he swam for the other side.
All which being so, the question came back again where could Deerfoot be?
It is not often that a group of red men are so at their wit's end as were the Pawnees. They stood looking about them, silent and bewildered. Wimmoroo took a sly glance at the tree tops as though he half expected to see the missing Shawanoe perched in the branches.
But among those red men was one at least with quick intelligence. He was the last to approach the stream from the side toward which Deerfoot leaped. He had not yet spoken, but when told the facts, he glanced here and there, so as to take in all the points, and it was not long before a suspicion of the truth dawned upon him.
Several facts, which were patent to the others, took connection in his mind. Let me name one or two—Deerfoot possessed a fleetness which no Pawnee could equal; he was seen to run toward the stream with the utmost speed of which he was capable; he was observed to make the jump, and the creek itself was a little more than twenty feet in width. The conclusion, therefore, was certain—he had bounded across.
The leap, while a great one, was not beyond the attainment of the Pawnee himself, who was studying the question. He was sure that with a running start he could clear the water, though he could do no more. Still there were no footprints on the margin that could have been made by the fugitive; but, recalling the prodigious activity of the fugitive, the Pawnee scrutinized the ground further back. He had done so only a half minute when he discovered the truth. Making it known to the others, they refused for a minute or two to believe him, but the proof was before their eyes and they disputed no longer.
The young Shawanoe, finding that his only escape from the Pawnees, who seemed to spring from the ground all around him, was by placing himself on the other side the creek, turned and made for it, as I have already told, with all the speed he possessed. The stream was of a width varying from twenty to forty feet or more. Where he had crossed it before, it was too wide for him to think of leaping. In fact, his hasty search along shore failed to show a spot across which he could jump, and he did not expect to do so in the present instance.
But the extremity of good fortune attended the fleet-footed Deerfoot, who struck one of the narrowest portions. He anticipated falling into the water, quite close to the other side, whence he meant to crawl hastily out and continue his flight. Gathering his muscles, he made one of the most terrific efforts of his life, and, rising in air, described a parabola, which carried him fully six feet past the water, striking the ground beyond a clump of bushes. There, as I have said, when the search was made, his footprints were seen too plainly to leave any doubt as to the exploit he had performed.
At the instant of alighting, he whirled around, stepped close to the water, and struck it a sharp blow with his long bow. It was his quickness of resource which led him to do this without a second's delay. Well aware of the great leap he had made, he caused the splash, so as to lead his pursuers to think he had dropped into the current. It has been shown how he succeeded.
Crouching low, so as to keep his body hidden so far as it was possible to do so, he ran along the stream, sometimes almost on his hands and knees, until a point was reached where he was able to straighten up without detection. His keen vision showed him the Pawnees advancing from the side on which he had taken refuge, but he easily avoided discovery, and had not far to go, when he felt that all danger was over.
It will be admitted that, from the moment when he entered the Pawnee camp and fell into a dispute with Lone Bear, he had been given little time to rest. It may be said that the sweep of incident kept him on the jump, from the opening to the close. He was given no time to think of Hay-uta nor of Jack Carleton, from whom he was separated by still another stream of water, across which he was forced to swim, in order to reach the war party. He had done his utmost to gather some information respecting Otto Relstaub, for whom the three were searching, but had not picked up the first grain of knowledge. Lone Bear, who could have told him one or two surprising facts respecting the young German lad, sought to mislead him. What his reason was for such a course was beyond the power of Deerfoot to guess.
It can not be said that the Shawanoe felt any misgivings as to the situation of the two who had come with him. The Sauk was skillful, and would be quick to learn the peril in which the young warrior had become involved. Such knowledge would enable him to guard against similar slips himself.
Convinced that at last he had shaken off his enemies, Deerfoot resumed his moderate pace, while he debated with himself the best course to pursue.
He was back again on the side of the stream where he had first seen the Pawnees encamped, and doubtless a number of them were scattered at different points through the wood. There must have been twenty of them in the neighborhood, for, when summoned by signal, they appeared to come from all points of the compass. But none now was in sight, and who of them all was able to outwit the Shawanoe in woodcraft and cunning?
The clothing which had been saturated by his plunge into the larger stream was nearly dry, and an examination showed he had suffered no damage in person or property. More than one bullet had been fired at him, but not a hair of his head was harmed. The stained eagle feathers still projected from his crown; the quiver of arrows rested behind his right shoulder; the string of his bow was free from moisture; the red sash around his waist, the fringes of his hunting shirt, his leggings, his moccasins and even the double string of beads around his neck and the golden bracelet which clasped one wrist, showed no evidence of the ordeal through which their owner had so recently passed. Knife, tomahawk and bow were as ready as ever for any emergency which might call for them.
Deerfoot reflected that, so far as he was concerned, the result of his enterprise was a failure—in truth, it was worse than a failure, for, having learned nothing of the fate of Otto, he had put the Pawnees on their guard against giving such information. Lone Bear showed an unwillingness to tell any thing, and now it was to be expected that he and his companions would take care to thwart the wishes of the Shawanoe and what friends he might have.
The young warrior asked himself whether he must recross the stream and join Jack Carleton with the confession that he had not been able to learn any thing about Otto, and that he saw no chance of doing so. He was loth to make such acknowledgment, and he determined not to do so, until after making at least one more attempt to force the truth from some member of the war party.
The afternoon was well advanced when he appeared in the camp of the hostiles, and it would seem that the incidents which took place ought to have carried him close to nightfall. But I must repeat that on account of their hurricane-like rush, they took a small amount of time, and now, when he found himself free of his pursuers, the sun was yet a couple of hours above the horizon. Enough daylight remained for him to do a large amount of work, always provided the work presented itself to be done.
He decided to take another survey of the camp before returning, in the hope that possibly some "material" for labor awaited him. A quick survey of his surroundings caused him to locate himself. The camp was not far off, and he began making his way toward it.
In doing so he did not steal forward with the slow caution which his race generally show when approaching an enemy, but he advanced briskly among the trees, though his motion was as noiseless as that of the shadow of the cloud overhead.
Among all the chagrined Pawnees, there was none so humiliated as Lone Bear, who had been thrown headlong by the trick of the young Shawanoe dropping in front of him. That was bad enough, but it was made a hundred-fold worse when Deerfoot stepped on the crown of his head before he could rise, or prevent it. It was Red Wolf who cruelly remarked that the reason for the youth taking that step was that he might have asoft placewhereon to rest his moccasin.
Instead of replying to the chaffings of his two companions, Lone Bear sat on a pile of fagots in the deserted camp, and smoked his pipe in silence.
Red Wolf and the other Pawnee sat near, but neither lighted his pipe. They had done all they cared to do in the way of tantalizing their comrade, who had spent a part of his early boyhood among the Shawanoes on the other side of the Mississippi. They saw he was in an ugly mood, and would be likely to fight if provoked further. Though they did not hold him in fear, they did not seek a quarrel. Besides, too, they saw the serious side to the business: Deerfoot had already proved that he was a remarkable warrior, for, amid the shooting and firing of guns, which came from the forest beyond, there was heard no signal which told that the daring youth had been shot or captured. The moment such a result should take place, it would be made known by the exultation whoop from the one fortunate enough to bring it about.
The question which presented itself to Red Wolf and his companion was, whether it was probable the wonderful Deerfoot was alone. The Pawnees were returning from a long excursion eastward, which had led them across and into new hunting grounds, where their presence was sure to arouse enmity whenever discovered. On that journey toward the Mississippi, the Pawnees had come in collision with other parties of red men; guns had been fired and one or two scalps taken, including one lost. In addition, the invaders had destroyed much game, so that abundant ground for complaint rested with the strangers. What more probable than that some of those aggrieved tribes had determined on a retaliatory policy, by sending a strong party to chastise the Pawnees?
Before Red Wolf could start a discussion on this question, the one at his side became so interested in what was going on deeper in the woods that he sprang to his feet and was off like a shot. This left Red Wolf and Lone Bear alone, and the former felt much less disposition to pick a quarrel than before.
"Are not the hunting grounds of the Shawanoes beyond the Great River?" asked Red Wolf.
Lone Bear glared at him, as if doubting the sincerity of the question, but, satisfied a moment later that the inquirer was in quest of truth, he shook off his surliness and answered:
"Two suns' travel beyond the Great River lie the hunting grounds of the Shawanoes and Wyandots."
"The Shawanoes are brave warriors?"
"Only the Pawnees excel them," was the reply of Lone Bear, who in those words uttered the greatest compliment possible to the warlike tribe which did more than any other to give Kentucky its baptismal name of the Dark and Bloody Ground.
"Why is the Shawanoe whom you call Deerfoot journeying toward the hunting grounds of the Pawnees?"
This was a pertinent question, which Lone Bear would have been glad to have some one answer for him, but which, as might be expected, he sought to solve without hesitation.
"He has come to look upon the woods and streams and prairies so favored by the Great Spirit, where the bravest warriors, the Pawnees, are born, and from which they drive all strangers."
Had Red Wolf chosen, he might have reminded the speaker of the bad taste of this remark, when he had been so recently overthrown and disgraced by one of the tribe which he placed lower in rank than his own; but Red Wolf was disposed to take a more practical view of matters, and it was natural he should go to the Pawnee who had once lived among the Shawanoes.
"We saw only one Shawanoe, but there may be more hiding among the trees, and waiting to fire at the Pawnees when they have their eyes closed in slumber."
"Red Wolf has seen no Shawanoe!" exclaimed the other, wrathfully. "There has been none here."
"Why does Lone Bear speak in riddles? What is the totem of the young warrior called Deerfoot?"
"Hewasa Shawanoe; his father was Allomaug the great chief; but Deerfoot became a pale-face; he listened to the prating of the missionaries, and turned away from the wigwams of his people; he has not consorted with the Shawanoes for years; they would give a hundred scalps if they could tear his from his crown. If the warriors of the Shawanoes were in the woods," added Lone Bear, with a sweep of his right arm, "Deerfoot would not be here, for he is a dog that runs when he hears the call of his masters."
None could be more aware of the falsity of this than Lone Bear, who, though he left the tribe before Deerfoot did, had heard of his exploits since then, and knew him to be one of the bravest youths that ever lived. And, again, he lost sight of his recent experience with him.
But when he reminded Red Wolf that the Shawanoe dwelt beyond the Great River, whither the Pawnees had not penetrated, and that Deerfoot had made known that his errand was to look for the captive pale-face, all fear of his being in the company of a war party was removed.
However, no matter what explanation was given, it brought forward other questions which could not be explained away. One of these was the natural one, that, if the Pawnees had happened to have the German lad in their custody, by what means did he hope to recover him? He brought with him nothing in the shape of a ransom, so far as could be seen, and it was hard to imagine what other method he expected to employ.
When Otto was bought of the Sauks, a pretty fair price was paid for him, and it was not to be expected that his purchasers would discount that compensation. The conclusion that the daring Shawanoe relied upon other means, which were not apparent, gave a vague misgiving to Lone Bear and Red Wolf, as they sat near the camp-fire talking over the stirring incidents of the last half hour.
Now and then they ceased and listened to the sounds which came from the forest, wherein the efforts were pushed to make prisoner the young Shawanoe, who was dodging hither and thither as if running a gauntlet. The temptation was strong to mingle in the general melee, as it may be called, but the treatment Lone Bear had received at the hands of the Shawanoe filled him with a fear that he had never known before, for there was a tinge of superstition in it, as appeared in the next remark he made.
"Deerfoot calls himself a Shawanoe; he was born with the people, but when he left them he became an Evil Spirit."
This was Lone Bear's method of saying that the devil bore an active part in the exploits of the youth, an opinion which was shared by Red Wolf.
"The Evil One is his friend: if he was not, he would have fallen by the bullets that were aimed at him. Lone Bear would have slain the greatest warrior, when he was running before him as Deerfoot ran, but he could not slay Deerfoot, because the Evil One was his friend."
This was the kind of remark to please Lone Bear, for it implied that the best possible reason existed for his failure; his enemy was of the supernatural class, and, therefore, beyond the power of any human being to overcome.
Lone Bear turned his head toward the woods, while he held his lips closed over his pipe-stem. The sharp report of a rifle had reached their ears, and the two Pawnees listened for a minute without moving or speaking. Deerfoot just then was doing wonders in the way of dodging and running, and the warriors sitting by the camp-fire could almost read the narrative, as you have done from these printed pages.
Red Wolf leaned forward and lighted his pipe from the glowing coals, and then seated himself a little closer than before to his companion. They were at the end of the fire, as may be said, and so near each other that when they talked and gesticulated their heads almost touched.
"They will not harm the Shawanoe," was the truthful remark of Lone Bear, though in his heart he hoped they would bring his reeking scalp into camp. "The Evil One runs at his side, and when the bullet is aimed by the brave Pawnees, he catches it in his hand and holds it that it may not harm the Shawanoe."
This was an ingenious explanation, for it helped to release the warrior from a questionable situation. Red Wolf, who was sitting cross-legged, like a tailor, sent an enormous puff of smoke over his shoulder, and nodded several times with much vigor, to signify that he indorsed the sentiments of his comrade.
"He can not be harmed until the Good Spirit shall drive the Evil One away; then the bullet of Lone Bear and the tomahawk of Red Wolf and the knives of the Pawnees shall reach him. He shall then die as dies the rattlesnake coiled in our path."
At intervals the two ceased speaking, and, looking toward the wood, listened, but an interval of silence followed. Both began to hope that in spite of the armor they had thrown around the Shawanoe, he had been brought down by some of the Pawnees, who were making such efforts to destroy him.
It will be remembered that the wood from which Deerfoot had caught sight of the Pawnee war party came down to the edge of the broad stream over which he swam in order to reach them. On their side, the growth of the forest ceased some rods away from the water, so that for a considerable distance, a broad band of open land lined the river. In this cleared space the camp-fire of the Pawnees was burning, and they were grouped around it, with nearly as many warriors at varying distances in the wilderness beyond. When they looked, it was toward the nearest trees, from which they expected almost every moment to see some of their comrades emerge, escorting the prisoner.
Red Wolf seemed to glow with anger, because the Shawanoe persisted in keeping out of the hands of the Pawnees, who, it may be said, surrounded him. Removing his long-stemmed pipe from between his teeth, he held it poised in his left hand, while he gesticulated with his right.
"Who are the bravest warriors that hunt through the wilderness and over the prairies?" he asked, launching out in that vain-glorious boasting, so characteristic of his race: "who drove all other red men before them? Whose war-whoop makes the pale-faces run to their cabins and hold their doors closed? Whose shouts cause their enemies to tremble and call on the Great Spirit to protect them? Who is it that sweeps—"
A splintering crash broke in upon this series of questions, and the bowl of Red Wolf's pipe was shattered into a hundred fragments, the atoms flying into the faces of the startled Pawnees, who, accustomed to surprises, leaped to their feet and glanced right and left to learn the cause of the astounding occurrence.
At that instant something like the flitting of a bird's wing twinkled in front of their eyes, and the quick "chuck" which followed showed them an Indian arrow with its head buried in the ground fifty feet beyond, and the feathered point still a-tremble from the force with which it had been driven from the bow.
Like a flash they looked toward the opposite point, and that which met their gaze was perhaps the most alarming sight they had ever seen. Scarcely a hundred feet away, on the edge of the wood, stood Deerfoot the Shawanoe. He had already launched two arrows, and, when they caught sight of him, he was standing with a third drawn to the head, and apparently in the very act of letting fly at one of the terrified warriors.
The American Indian as a rule is not powerful, and his muscular development is moderate; but his life accustoms him to quickness of movement, and he generally excels in running and leaping. Any one looking upon Lone Bear and Red Wolf at that moment would have set them down as the champions of their tribe. When they identified the archer and saw that he was on the point of discharging another missile, they made a break for shelter.
Red Wolf headed for the river, possibly because he didn't dare to lose the time it would take to turn partly on his feet. He ran as if he meant to make the effort to leap entirely across, or at least to outrun the arrow which he believed was chasing him.
He hadn't far to go, and it didn't take him long to travel it. A bound, a splash, and he vanished.
Lone Bear knew he was closer to the wood than to the water, and he was equally determined to attain shelter. In his tremendous effort, he seemed to think he could dodge the shafts that were whizzing through the air in quick succession after him. He bent his head so that he was crouching half way to the ground, and leaped from side to side, ducked and dodged and contorted himself in an indescribable fashion. When he bounded among the trees, he must have felt he had made the escape of his life.
But the third arrow did not leave the bow. Deerfoot had not sought to harm either of the Pawnees, but in obedience to that disposition to humor which he sometimes displayed, he took pains to fire as close as he could without hitting them. When he saw their dismay, he shook from head to foot with silent laughter.
But his mirth was brief. A slight noise caused him to turn his head. There stood two other Indians directly behind him, one with his gun leveled directly at his heart.
When Hay-uta, the ally of Deerfoot, parted with him so that the reconnoissance of the Pawnee camp could be made separately, he went down stream—that is, in the direction opposite to that taken by Deerfoot. He moved faster than the Shawanoe, and emerged from the river at the moment the other entered it.
Before this, he had taken another scrutiny of the two warriors, whom he had pointed out as members of the party that bought Otto Relstaub from the Sauks. He thought it unlikely that a mistake could have been made, and the second inspection proved he was right beyond all doubt.
Without any reason for such belief, Hay-uta concluded there were other Pawnees in the vicinity. The appearance of the camp suggested in some way that several were missing. He therefore conducted his movements as though danger threatened him from all points.
Hay-uta was daring and skillful. He had been engaged on more than one similar enterprise, with the difference that the camps where he reconnoitered previously were those of bitter enemies. Having met the Pawnees before, on what may be considered neutral if not friendly ground, he would have felt no great misgivings while marching into their camp, without any effort at concealment.
But, if discovered prowling through the woods, the case would be different. It would be hard to offer any explanation, and, therefore, it was the more necessary to avoid detection while thus employed.
The Sauk was as much puzzled as Deerfoot to guess what had become of Otto. Two of the warriors, if not all of them, were able to tell, but Hay-uta could not expect to draw the information from them. Perhaps Deerfoot might do so.
There was good ground to fear the poor lad had been put out of the way forever, but the Sauk was still more convinced that he was not only alive and well, but was at no great distance from the camp of the Pawnees.
Instead of going directly toward the latter, as did Deerfoot, the Sauk started out on what may be described as a large circle, inclosing the war party near the river. His action was based on the somewhat curious theory that the Pawnees which he had seen did not compose the main body that would be found grouped somewhere within the woods. It may as well be said that he was mistaken in this supposition, though the reader has learned that a number of Indians were scattered at different points, and it was their rapid convergence which kept Deerfoot on the move.
Hay-uta had not gone far on the edge of the semi-circle, when the shouts and sounds of firearms from that direction of the camp left no doubt that trouble had broken out there. Desirous of learning what it meant, he moved toward the point, but before he went near enough to discover any thing, he detected one of the Pawnees doing the same thing.
The warrior was just far enough in advance for Hay-uta to catch a glimpse of his figure as it twinkled among the trees. He was going on a long, loping trot, which, if not very rapid, was sufficiently so to carry him beyond sight within a few seconds after the Sauk observed him.
The unexpected turn which events had taken led Hay-uta to stop and question himself as to the right course to follow. His intelligence told him that Deerfoot was fleeing through the woods, with an indefinite number of enemies in pursuit. The Sauk grimly smiled.
"The Pawnees will overtake the young Shawanoe when they outrun the eagle as he flies among the clouds. The arrow of his own bow is scarce faster than he."
The confidence of Hay-uta in the prowess of Deerfoot was warranted, as we can not help agreeing, but suspecting the truth, as the Sauk did, we can hardly understand how he believed he would succeed in extricating himself.
Making sure that no one was in the vicinity the Sauk stood for perhaps fifteen minutes, while he listened closely to the sounds which came from different points in the wood. He was able to form a pretty fair idea of what it all meant, though of necessity much was left to conjecture.
It was the training of Hay-uta, from his earliest youth, which led him to keep his glances flitting here and there in all directions, while using his ears to determine what was going on. Had he not done so, he would have failed to note a suspicious proceeding on his right.
Although looking toward a different point just then, he detected something which led him to believe that one of the strange warriors was trying to steal close to him. It seemed as if a Pawnee, having discovered the Sauk, was trying to get close enough to make the aim of his gun sure.
The first glance toward that point convinced Hay-uta that his enemy was making for the trunk of a tree, less than a hundred yards distant. Its diameter was so great that it would have sheltered two persons at the same time; and it exceeded to such an extent all the others near it, that it was natural for one to seek its protection.
The Sauk was sure that the warrior was several rods beyond this tree, toward which he was stealing, while striving to keep the trunk between him and Hay-uta. So long, therefore, as the Sank remained motionless, the Pawnee would be protected, though there were other trees of less size behind which he could escape should it become necessary.
It is not to be supposed that the Sauk was stupid enough to stand like a wooden Indian, and allow his enemy every advantage he sought. There were plenty of trunks, also, which he could use as a screen while engaged in a characteristic duel with the other Indian; but, instead of doing so, he began striding off toward the right, keeping his gaze fixed on the larger trunk, and holding his rifle at full cock, so that it could be aimed and fired on an instant's call. At the same time, he swung his right arm about his head, and then struck the left hand over his heart. This was the sign of comity, and the moment it should catch the eye of the Pawnee, he would be sure to recognize it as such, though whether he would accept it remained to be seen.
The action of the Sank was so prompt, and apparently so unexpected, that the crouching savage was caught unawares. He was uncovered with great cleverness, and indeed Hay-uta could have "winged" him had he chosen to do so. It was not from lack of inclination that he held his fire, but because prudence demanded it. As it was, he was confident of his ability to anticipate any hostile movement on the part of the other.
Flanked in this fashion, the Pawnee was equally prompt in reciprocating the gestures of good-will which greeted him. While in the act of straightening up, he imitated the salutations which, though somewhat different from those to which he was accustomed, were too plain in their meaning to be mistaken.
When two strangers open negotiations by declaring themselves friends, it is natural they should advance and shake hands (provided that manner of salutation is in vogue), and such was the next proceeding of the red men.
"The heart of Hay-uta bounds with joy when he looks upon the face of his brave brother of the unknown totem," said the Sauk.
"The Flying Deer, of the Pawnees, would weep till the Great Spirit in sorrow for him called him home, had he been made to wait for this brave warrior, who has journeyed so many suns that he may look upon his face," was the substantial response of the Pawnee.
All this was very fine, but one drawback remained—neither Indian understood a single syllable uttered by the other, but the beaming expressions scarcely needed literal interpretation. Truth makes it necessary to add that, with all this effusiveness, the warriors distrusted each other.
Now began a conversation by means of signs, which it would be tedious to give in full. Fortunately for Hay-uta, he was so far removed from the scene of action in which Deerfoot and the others were playing such an active part, that he was quite secure against interruption, unless the fleeing Shawanoe should happen to take a turn in his flight which might bring the swarming pursuers in that direction.
It was impossible for Hay-uta to know the real sentiments of the other, but, as a matter of precaution, he sought to draw him further away from the theater of action. The Pawnee must have understood, from the signals which had reached him, that an enemy was making a great stir, and that his own presence was desired.
Furthermore, as the Sauk was a stranger, the natural supposition would be that he was an ally of the enemy. This could not fail to cause suspicion, but, having just vowed eternal friendship, policy required him to conceal his real sentiments.
On the invitation of the Sauk, the other accompanied him a few rods, during which they conversed as well as they could in pantomime. While they managed to communicate a great deal, yet the limit was speedily reached. When Hay-uta tried to ask after the missing Otto, the other did not comprehend him, or, if he did, failed to make his sentences clear. In that respect, therefore, the mission of the Sauk was as barren of results as was that of Deerfoot.
The Pawnee had not gone far, when he seemed to awake to the fact that he was doing an imprudent thing. He came to a halt and showed by his manner that he would go no further. Hay-uta could not urge him, and the two, therefore, stood face to face in the depth of the forest, while they talked to each other.
The Sauk asked himself more than once whether, in a hand to hand fight with the other, the struggle being fair on each side, he could vanquish him. The Pawnee was tall, well-formed, athletic, and the knife thrust in the skin-sheath at his girdle looked as if it was longer and keener than the one Hay-uta carried, without sheath at all. The Pawnee was certain to be a formidable antagonist in such a contest, but the Sauk would not have hesitated to assail him, except through fear that others would be brought to the spot.
No doubt the Pawnee took the measure of the stranger in the same manner, and it is reasonable to conclude that he felt no special fear of him. In fact, the two were like a couple of bull dogs, ready to fly at each other's throat, without once thinking of what the issue was likely to be.
But while they were holding their conversation, the Sauk carried out a singular thought. He asked himself whether he could not make a friend of the stranger—that is to say, a genuine friend, who would be held to him by gratitude.
As to the method by which this was to be attained, even the ingenious mind of the warrior was unable to determine. All he could do was to seek to keep him company until some way should be open. The coming of any of the Pawnees, who were trooping at the heels of the Shawanoe, would be liable to scatter all such plans to the wind.
The diplomats were doing their best to entertain each other, when a most unlooked-for interference took place.
From where they stood, they were able to locate the clearing by means of a thinness of the trees, a few more rays of daylight penetrating from that direction. Hay-uta happened to be looking toward that point, when he caught the outline of a figure stealing along the margin of the opening.
The sight was so unexpected that the manner of the Sauk betrayed the discovery, the instance being one of those rare ones in which he was caught off his guard. He reproached himself, for the back of his companion was turned toward the other, who was moving as silently as the shadow over the face of a sun-dial.
The head of the Pawnee turned quickly, and he muttered a soft "—st!" At the same moment he began moving toward the other, with the absolute silence that the trained Indian shows when creeping into a hostile camp, where the rustling of a leaf brings discovery.
Hay-uta could not but admire the skill of the Indian. At the same time, the action of the Pawnee in moving away from the Sauk, while his eyes were turned from him, thus placing himself at the mercy of Hay-uta, was an appeal to the honor of the latter, which, of itself, was the strongest safeguard of the Pawnee.
Hay-uta fell in behind him, and the two advanced in their stealthy fashion among the trees for some twenty steps, when they gained full view of the third Indian, whose course was rather peculiar. He had stepped from the woods into the clearing, and was standing facing the other way, with his attention fixed on something too far off to be seen by the couple that were watching him.
Hay-uta was astounded almost into betraying himself again when he saw that the Indian was Deerfoot the Shawanoe. He was watching the two Pawnees near the camp-fire, and was in the act of discharging the first arrow which broke the pipe of Red Wolf and threw him and Lone Bear into such consternation.
It may have been because the youth carried a bow and arrow, instead of firearms, that the Pawnee thought he was a wanderer from beyond the Rocky Mountains, who had drifted into that section and was now making his way home. Certainly he could have had no suspicion of the prowess of the Shawanoe, nor could he have dreamed that he had been the sole cause of the hubbub that had reigned among the Pawnees, and even then was hardly ended. He appeared to believe, however, that he was one of a party who were their enemies, for he signed to Hay-uta that he meant that the stranger should not escape him.