The sun was well above the mountains before the young Delawares descended to the river, and resumed the perilous journey into the north. Running Fox told Spotted Deer about the strange medicine-creatures that had appeared in his dream, and Spotted Deer became quite excited.
“That was a wonderful thing to happen to a person,” he declared, impressively. “You must do whatever those mysterious animals told you to do. I cannot help you. You must do those things alone. I have heard my father say that.”
“It is true,” agreed Running Fox. “If you try to help me it might do great harm.”
As the lads were still well within the northern boundary of the vast Delaware hunting grounds, they had little fear of an immediate encounter with their foes-Still they were cautious, for they knew that such an experience was not impossible, as both Shawnees and Iroquois frequently invaded that territory to hunt and fish. The Shawnees were a powerful nation living farther to the westward, with whom the Delawares had fought many desperate battles.
The day was about half spent when Running Fox suddenly dropped to his knees, and called excitedly to Spotted Deer. The fresh trail of a bear crossed a narrow strip of gravelly beach and disappeared into the woods. The tracks were huge, and it was evident that the animal had only recently crossed the river.
“See, here is the track of Machque,” said Running Fox, as he measured the footprints with his hands. “He must be very big, and very fierce. He cannot be far off. I will follow his trail, and try to kill him. Spotted Deer, you must wait until I come back. Perhaps it will take a long time to do this thing, but you must wait. It is the only thing to do.”
“I would like to go with you, but I believe it would be bad,” declared Spotted Deer. “You must do as it appeared in your dream. I will wait.”
A moment afterward Running Fox followed the tracks into the forest. The lad had been well trained in the art of hunting by his father, and his sharp eyes had little difficulty in keeping the trail. It led him along the side of a rocky hillside, and then down into the bushy tangle of a dark spruce swamp. The footprints looked very fresh, and Running Fox moved forward as noiselessly as a lynx. He stopped after every few strides to look, and listen and sniff. He had never killed a bear but he had heard the hunters tell many stories about that crafty beast, and he knew that it was only by using the utmost caution that he could hope to get within bow-shot. He crossed the swamp without coming in sight of his quarry, and followed the tracks over the top of another rocky hill. As he was climbing carefully toward the summit he came upon an ant-hill that had been dug open by the bear. The demoralized ants were still rushing frantically over the wreck of their lodge. On the other side of the hill Running Fox lost the trail on a steep ledge of smooth gray rock. Circling carefully around the ledge he finally picked up the tracks leading down into a narrow ravine that penetrated far back into the hills. As the sides of the gully were covered with blueberry bushes, the young Delaware understood why the bear had chosen that route. He saw many crushed and uprooted plants which told him that the hear was feeding upon the berries. Running Fox hurried along the ravine in the hope of overtaking the bear at its feast, but although the trail seemed continually to grow fresher the eager young hunter was unable to get within sight of his quarry.
The ravine at last led up to a wide grassy plateau closed in on three sides by low hardwood ridges. It looked like an ideal feeding ground for elk and deer, and Running Fox saw several well-trod trails leading through it. Then he saw something more interesting. Far over in the opposite corner of the plateau he discovered some animal lying down. It was beyond bow-shot, and Running Fox began to study how he might approach without being seen. When he had watched some moments he decided that the distant object was either an elk or a deer. As it failed to move he concluded that it was asleep. Then he suddenly thought of the bear tracks. They led directly out into the open plateau, and toward the mysterious object in the farther corner. Running Fox was perplexed. He knew that what he saw was not the bear. Still he realized that whatever it was it had come there after the bear had passed. The idea did not satisfy him, however, for he told himself that unless the bear had gone by a long time before, the keen nose of an elk or a deer would instantly have found the dreaded scent. In that event neither of those wary creatures would be likely to sleep on the fresh trail of their enemy. Running Fox felt positive that the bear had but recently crossed the plateau, for the grass which had been trodden down was still springing upright. Then the solution flashed into his mind—the animal he saw was dead.
Having come to that decision Running Fox began to look for the bear. He felt quite sure that it was somewhere near the carcass, unless it had discovered him and rushed away. Still he rather doubted that, for the wind was in his favor, and besides he believed that a bear as large as the one he had followed would be in no great hurry to run off. He had often heard his father tell how a bear would loiter in the vicinity of such a bait for several days, feeding when hunger prompted and sleeping in some nearby thicket between meals. Running Fox also realized that the bear might have been feeding as he approached, and upon catching sight or scent of him had retreated into the woods to watch. In any event he told himself that the first thing to do was to go and examine the bait.
Running Fox made his way cautiously along the edge of the plateau, taking advantage of whatever cover offered itself, and advancing against the wind. When he finally came within bow-shot of the bait he saw that it was an elk. Then he sat down to watch and listen. After he had waited a long time without seeing or hearing anything of the bear, he went forward to examine the elk. It was an old bull that apparently had died from old age. Running Fox was surprised to find that almost one whole side of the animal had already been eaten. He also saw that something had been tearing at the carcass but a short time previously. The grass was well trampled all about the bait, and Running Fox identified the tracks of many different animals. The freshest tracks, however, were the huge footprints of the bear which he had followed from the river. Running Fox believed that the bear was feeding upon the carcass when it suddenly became aware of his approach, and retreated into the woods. He felt quite certain that it would return, and he determined to conceal himself and watch.
The Delaware found much to interest him as he sat quietly in his hiding place and waited for the bear to return. A flock of crows were the first to appear. They made a great racket as they circled about the elk, and the eyes of the young hunter flashed with anger. He knew from experience that those noisy birds gave warning to all the wild things of the woods, and he feared that their senseless commotion might arouse the suspicions of the bear. They soon flew away, however, and Running Fox felt much relieved. A short time afterward he saw something moving along the edge of the timber at the other end of the plateau. In a few moments he identified it as a deer. He took its appearance for proof that the bear was not at the moment anywhere near. Then, as he watched the wary creature browsing in the shadow of the woods, he heard soft, stealthy footfalls directly behind him. Fitting an arrow to his how, Running Fox turned in time to find himself facing a large red fox. Before the surprised creature could bound to safety the expert young Delaware sent his arrow through its heart.
Recalling the advice of the medicine-fox which had appeared in his dream, Running Fox crawled noiselessly through the brush, and cut the ears from his victim. He saw that the fox was very old, as its teeth were worn almost to the gums. The discovery filled him with joy, for he felt sure that by carrying the ears of that wise old chief he would become as sharp and crafty himself.
Then for a long time nothing more appeared, and Running Fox began to grow restless. The day was almost at an end, and he feared that Spotted Deer would become impatient. Still he had no thought of leaving the plateau, and was determined to spend the night there if the bear failed to appear before dark. At sunset, however, he heard some large animal moving through the woods. It sounded too heavy for a deer, and too noisy for an elk, so that Running Fox believed it must be the bear. His heart bounded at the thought. He had heard many stories about thrilling battles with those great beasts of the wilderness, and he hoped that he, too, might experience such an adventure. Then, as the sounds drew nearer, all else was forgotten as the eager lad hurriedly fitted an arrow to his bow, and fixed his eyes on the edge of the woods.
Running Fox was not kept long in suspense. In a few moments he saw the bushes swaying, and the next instant a bear walked into the open. It was not the huge creature which Running Fox had pictured in his mind, but his disappointment soon gave way to surprise as two half-grown cubs immediately followed their mother from the woods. All three animals soon walked within range, but the bewildered young hunter withheld his arrow. He feared to kill the mother bear and her young lest he should offend the great medicine-bear which had appeared in his dream. Besides, he told himself that a warrior could scarcely boast of such a feat. He watched, therefore, while the old bear led her cubs to the carcass of the elk, and began to feed.
Some time later when the mother bear raised her head and sniffed the air, Running Fox instantly became alert. As the old bear continued to watch the woods, the lad began to hope that the animal he had followed might be returning. However, the bear soon resumed feeding, and Running Fox believed that he was again doomed to disappointment. At that very moment, however, a stick cracked over in the spot toward which the mother bear had been looking. She again raised her head and sniffed. Then she began to growl. Running Fox watched anxiously. For some moments all was still, but the bear continued to growl, and sniff suspiciously. Then a great black object appeared at the edge of the woods. Running Fox knew at once that it was the bear he had trailed from the river. As it walked slowly into the open and he saw how big it was he could scarcely believe his eyes. It seemed to be very fierce, for it approached the bait growling and snapping its jaws. As it drew near Running Fox saw a round white spot, half as large as his hand, directly behind its shoulder. It immediately fired the imagination of the superstitious young Delaware. He believed that Getanittowit had placed that mark upon the bear to guide the Delaware arrow.
Running Fox had been so absorbed in watching the approach of the giant that for the moment he had forgotten all about the mother bear and her cubs. Now he heard her growling and gnashing her teeth. He had expected to see her dash away at the first sight of the intruder, but she showed no such intention. Instead she gave every evidence of disputing the right of ownership which the big bear apparently intended to assert. Running Fox looked upon her with admiration as she stood there snapping her jaws, and growling defiance at the huge brute that threatened her. For a few moments the big bear stood watching her in surprise. He seemed puzzled by her unexpected show of resistance. Then it roused his fighting spirit, and he rushed forward roaring furiously.
As the cubs dashed for the timber, squealing with terror, the mother bear prepared to meet the attack. She appeared scarcely more than half the size of the monster that had attacked her, and yet she seemed quite as fierce and eager to fight as he. When the big bear came within range she rushed at him, and he reared and attempted to fall upon her. She was too quick, however, and as he crashed down she rushed in and closed her jaws upon a hind leg. Wheeling with the agility of a panther, he snapped viciously at her neck, but she released her hold and jumped tuck in time to save herself. Then he rushed at her in blind fury, and knocked her off her feet. Turning upon her back, she clawed him like a wildcat. Snarling, biting and tearing, the maddened beasts fought with a fury that meant destruction to the vanquished. It soon became evident that the mother bear was doomed to defeat. The tremendous bulk and strength of her antagonist made him invincible. He was inflicting terrible punishment upon his courageous foe, and it seemed only a matter of moments before he would have her completely at his mercy.
However, it was at that stage of the encounter that Running Fox joined in the fray. Completely carried away by the fierceness of the fight, the lad jumped to his feet and shot his arrow at the big bear. In his excitement, however, he missed his aim, and the arrow struck about a hand-width above the white patch behind the shoulder. The bear twisted about and snapped off the shaft close to its body. Then both bears caught sight of him, and immediately ceased fighting. For a moment, as they stood glaring at him and snarling, it looked as if they intended to unite in attacking their common enemy. Then, as Running Fox drove a second arrow into the body of the giant, the latter rushed forward alone. At that instant the cubs began whimpering at the edge of the forest, and the mother bear, weak and suffering from a score of ugly wounds, ambled painfully off to join them. As the great bear came roaring down upon him the young Delaware realized that he was fighting for his life, and the thought steadied him. Twice more he sent his arrows tearing into the great muscular body, but they seemed to have little effect. The infuriated bear stopped just long enough to snap at the feathered shafts, and then it made a final rush at its foe. However, during that momentary delay Running Fox had fitted another arrow to his bow. He held it until the bear was only a few paces away, and then, as it rose unsteadily upon its hind legs, he uttered the shrill Delaware war-cry and drove the arrow deep between its fore legs. The giant crashed to the ground, and the excited lad immediately rushed forward to strike it with his war-club. At that moment, however, the bear suddenly recovered and struggled to its feet. The surprised young hunter almost collided with it. It struck savagely at him, but he jumped aside, and shot an arrow into the fatal mark behind the shoulder. It finished the fight. The bear sank slowly to the ground, and lay still. This time, however, Running Fox was more cautious, and he remained at a safe distance until the last signs of life had vanished. Then he ran eagerly forward and began to cut off the great curved claws.
By the time Running Fox had finished his task darkness had already fallen, and as he was a considerable distance from the river he determined to remain where he was until daylight. Then he suddenly thought of the wounded mother bear. He feared that she was too badly hurt to travel far away, and he had already seen enough of her temper to make him cautious about risking an encounter in the dark. He left the plateau, therefore, and spent the night farther down the ravine.
The sun was already above the tree-tops when Running Fox finally rejoined Spotted Deer at the river. They seated themselves on a fallen tree, and Running Fox showed his trophies and described his encounter with the bear. When Spotted Deer heard about the peculiar white patch on the bear’s shoulder he suggested that it might have been caused by a former arrow wound. Running Fox scoffed at the idea, however, and insisted that the mark had been placed there by Getanittowit.
“Yes, I believe that must be the way of it,” Spotted Deer agreed, finally.
Running Fox said that they must eat the heart of the bear to comply with the instructions which he had received in his dream. They kindled a tiny fire, and broiled the meat on a willow branch. Then, after Running Fox had sung several medicine-songs to pacify the spirit of the bear, the superstitious young warriors divided the precious trophy and ate it with solemn ceremony.
“Now I will tell you something,” said Spotted Deer. “After you went away I began to look around. I walked along beside the water. Pretty soon I heard a loud noise. Then I came to a place where the water goes very fast. It makes a great noise and jumps up and down. Yes, it looks very mad. I do not like that place. I believe the Bad Water Spirits live there. I have heard my father tell about them. He says that they are very fierce, and are always fighting down there under the water. Yes, that is what makes the commotion. My father has told me that when any one falls into such a place he is broken against the rocks, and eaten by those Bad Water Spirits.”
“Yes, that is so, I have heard about it,” declared Running Fox.
“Well, I stood there a long time watching that place,” continued Spotted Deer. “Then I went ahead. Pretty soon I saw a long strip of woods out there in the middle of the water. I heard many birds singing in the trees, and I stopped to listen. Then I saw some big rocks sticking out of the water. As I was looking at them I saw a very big fish jumping along between the rocks and the woods. Pretty soon I saw another. My eyes told me that it was Schawanammek, the great sturgeon. Well, I kept watching and I saw many of those big fish passing along. Then I saw how they came to be in that place. The water was very swift all around that strip of land, but between the rocks and the woods it was not so bad. Well, when I saw those big fish I wanted to spear some of them with my arrows. I said, ‘Hi, I will swim out to that place and kill some of those fish.’ Then I saw how swift the water was, and I heard the noise of that bad place below. Well, I began to think about it. I said, ‘I will wait until Running Fox comes back, and then we will talk about it.’ Now we will go and see it.”
“Yes, let us go,” proposed Running Fox, as his eyes lighted with enthusiasm.
As the lads hurried along the river they soon heard the sullen roar of the rapids, and their hearts bounded at the sound. Then they came upon the long stretch of tossing white-caps, and they stopped and looked with superstitious awe upon the wild tumult of the waters. It was a terrifying spectacle. As Spotted Deer had said, the river appeared to have been roused into a fury. It raged past in great surging waves that crashed against the rocks and sent drenching showers of spray high into the air. In the calmer reaches the water whirled down into seething black pools which sucked down into their dismal depths whatever the torrent tossed into them. The Delawares shuddered as they looked upon them, for they seemed like doors to that weird underwater world where the Bad Water Spirits were supposed to dwell.
“That is a bad place,” Banning Fox said, solemnly.
“Come, let us hurry away,” proposed Spotted Deer.
A short distance beyond the head of the rapids they came opposite the wooded island which Spotted Deer had described. They had not watched it many moments before they saw a great fish jump from the water between the rocks and the shore.
“See, there is Schawanammek!” Spotted Deer cried, excitedly.
“Yes, I saw him,” replied Running Fox. “Look, there goes another.”
They watched several large sturgeon fight their way through the narrow channel that separated the rocks from the island.
“Well, now you see how it is,” said Spotted Deer. “Do you feel strong enough to swim out there and kill some of those fish?”
For some moments Running Fox continued to study the water in silence. The river was smooth but swift at that spot, and the head of the rapids was dangerously near. Their angry roar sounded an ominous warning, and Running Fox hesitated. He realized that the adventure was filled with peril, and wondered whether he ought to risk himself for the mere sport of killing Schawanammek. It seemed foolhardy for one bound upon an important mission to take unnecessary chances. However, as the great fish continued to show themselves Running Fox began to waver. Then he suddenly realized that Spotted Deer was awaiting his decision, and the latter’s proposal instantly seemed like a challenge. Running Fox believed that Spotted Deer might be testing his courage. The possibility made him reckless. Under those circumstances he would have tried to reach the island even though he knew that the attempt was certain to cost him his life.
“Spotted Deer, I am going to swim out to that place, and kill some of those fish,” declared Running Fox. “Will you go with me?”
“Yes, I will go,” Spotted Deer replied, quietly.
“It will be a hard thing to do,” Running Fox warned him. “That water is very strong. It will carry us along very fast. We must go farther ahead, before we start to swim. If we get to that place perhaps we cannot get away again. I do not know how it will be. Well, I am going to do this thing no matter how it comes out.”
They walked along the shore until they were several bow-shots above the island. Then, after they had concealed their robes and moccasins in the bushes, they tied their bows and arrow-cases on their backs and waded into the water. As it reached their knees they began to feel its strength, Each stride forward made it more difficult to remain upon their feet. When they had waded in waist-deep they threw themselves forward and began to swim.
Once started, the lads swam boldly toward the middle of the river. Each stroke took them into swifter water, and they soon realized the seriousness of their adventure. Still they had no thought of turning back. The river swept them along at startling speed, and they swam desperately to get in line with the island. As they neared it they were dismayed to see great boulders directly ahead of them. They knew that unless they could get beyond them they would be swept against them and destroyed.
“Come, we must swim harder,” cried Running Fox.
They redoubled their efforts. Every moment was precious. Running Fox was the stronger swimmer, and he began to fear for Spotted Deer who was several bow-lengths behind him. However, Spotted Deer saw his peril, and was struggling desperately to place himself beyond the path of the boulders. At last his efforts were successful, and he followed Running Fox to the head of the island. They found a shallow place where they managed to get upon their feet and scramble safely to the shore.
“Hi, that was a hard fight,” panted Spotted Deer, as they sat down to recover from their exertions.
“Spotted Deer, I see that we have done a foolish thing,” Running Fox said, soberly.
“Are you thinking about those Bad Water Spirits?” inquired Spotted Deer, as he looked toward the rapids.
“No, I am not thinking about those mysterious people, but I believe we have got ourselves into a trap,” declared Running Fox. “It was a hard fight to get to this place, but it will be harder to get away.”
The idea sobered them. For the moment they forgot all about Schawanammek, the great sturgeon. As they watched the river sweeping past them, and heard the angry challenge of the rapids, they suddenly realized that they had placed themselves in a serious predicament.
“Well, we have come here to kill some of those big fish,” said Running Fox, attempting to make light of the adventure.
“Yes, let us go and find them,” proposed Spotted Deer.
They moved carefully along the wooded shore of the island until they reached the narrow channel between the island and the boulders. The water was comparatively quiet at that place, and they were able to wade out to a large flat-topped rock upon which they seated themselves to watch for sturgeon. As they waited for the first big fish to appear they cast many uneasy glances toward the rapids. They appeared uncomfortably near the lower end of the island. The noise seemed much louder. The lads wondered whether they had underestimated the distance between the island and that long stretch of white-crested waves. Then a sturgeon entered the narrow channel, and all else was forgotten.
“Hi, here comes Sehawanammek!” cried Spotted Deer, as he hastily prepared his bow.
As the great fish swam past the rock Spotted Deer drove his arrow into it. It floundered helplessly for a moment or so, and Running Fox also sent an arrow into its body. Then, to the surprise of the excited young Delawares, the sturgeon turned and flashed down the channel with the current. A few moments afterward they saw it drifting helplessly into the rapids.
“That is bad,” said Spotted Deer. “We have lost two good arrows, and Schawanammek has fooled us.”
“Well, we have sent some good food to Gunammachk, the otter,” laughed Running Fox.
It was some time before another sturgeon appeared, and that, too, would have been swept away by the river if Running Fox had not jumped recklessly into the water and seized it. Aided by Spotted Deer he dragged it to the island, and pulled it into the bushes.
“Well, we have killed Schawanammek,” said Spotted Deer. “Now we must eat some of his flesh. Then we will be able to swim through the bad places like he does.”
“Yes, I believe it will be a good thing to do,” agreed Running Fox.
Having left their fire-sticks with their robes, the lads were compelled to eat the fish raw. Then they began to think about leaving the island. They had no desire to waste more arrows on such easy game.
“Now we must get away from here,” said Running Fox.
“I see that it will be a hard thing to do,” declared Spotted Deer. “I believe I was very foolish to talk about coming here. Now I have got you into a bad place. I do not like that.”
“Spotted Deer, I came here because I wanted to show you that I was not afraid. It was a foolish thing to do. Perhaps those Bad Water Spirits will kill us. Then our people will say, ‘Running Fox was not sharp enough to escape from the Mohawks.’ I am sorry I came here.”
They walked to the head of the island, and looked longingly toward the forest on the river bank. It seemed a long ways off, and the water looked very swift. Their task was to reach the shore before the current carried them into the rapids. They knew that to do that they would have to swim even harder and faster than they swam to reach the island. Running Fox believed that he might be equal to the task, but he had grave misgivings about Spotted Deer. The latter, however, felt quite as confident as Running Fox. Before they entered the water Running Fox sang several of the medicine-songs which old Sky Dog had taught him for just such emergencies. Then, having asked Getanittowit to help them, the lads began their perilous battle with the river.
It was impossible to make any headway directly against the current, and the lads swam at a sharp angle but with their faces turned up the river. They had not gone far, however, before they saw that they were exhausting themselves without gaining enough to make the effort worth while. Then Running Fox turned and swam directly across the current. He found himself sweeping rapidly down the river, and he had grave doubts of reaching the shore before he drifted into the rapids. Each moment he heard their angry roar growing louder in his ears, and it nerved him to greater efforts. Calling upon Spotted Deer to increase his exertions Running Fox began a furious fight against the current. Strive as he might, however, he was unable to stay his mad flight down the river. The rapids were now only half as far away as they were when he started, and Running Fox began to lose heart. He had gone only a third of the distance between the shore and the island and each bow-length he drifted found him in rougher water. It suddenly dawned on him that it would be impossible to escape the rapids. For a moment the thought overwhelmed him, and he was on the point of surrendering. Then he heard a wild despairing cry behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Spotted Deer turning back toward the island. Running Fox knew at once that the exhausted lad would never reach his goal. Twisting about he swam with the current to intercept Spotted Deer in his wild plunge down the river.
“Come, Spotted Deer, show your courage!” cried Running Fox.
The challenge roused Spotted Deer to heroic efforts. He fought just long enough to enable Running Fox to get in line with him, and then he ceased struggling.
“Come, follow me!” shouted Running Fox. “Do not waste yourself. Let the water carry you. Watch out for the bad places.”
A moment later they were sweeping toward the rapids. Running Fox picked the route, and Spotted Deer tried to follow him. There was little chance to swim. All they could do was to keep themselves afloat, and try to dodge the rocks and whirlpools. It was a desperate chance, and the odds were all against them. However, it was the only chance for life and Running Fox had decided to take it. When they reached the head of the rapids they shot forward into a stifling smother of white-caps. Then they swirled down through the raging inferno of water at terrific speed. Monster waves surged over them, huge boulders flashed by within bow-length. Running Fox found it impossible to pick a route, and, terrified and bewildered, he confined his efforts to keeping his head above the surface and left the rest to chance. As for Spotted Deer, he lost sight of his companion as soon as they entered the rapids, and he, too, thought only of keeping from going down into the clutches of the Bad Water Spirits. Gasping, choking and struggling, the unfortunate lads were carried down the river. Once Running Fox crashed into a boulder, but fortunately it was a glancing blow and he escaped with nothing more serious than bruises. Spotted Deer drifted into one of the sucking black pools, and in some miraculous manner was whirled around the edge and thrown back into the current. There seemed no hope that either of the swimmers would escape with his life.
Running Fox, however, finally reached the end of the rapids alive. When he found himself afloat in calm water he could scarcely believe his good fortune. His first thought was for Spotted Deer. He was nowhere in sight. What had become of him? There seemed but one answer. He had been pulled down by the Bad Water Spirits. Running Fox looked toward the rapids, and his eyes glowed savagely. Then he saw something bobbing down through the waves, and a great hope entered his heart.
“Fight, Spotted Deer! Fight! I am here to help you!” screamed Running Fox, as he saw the form of his friend sweeping toward the end of the rapids.
His words were useless, however, for Spotted Deer could not hear them. As his limp body finally shot into the still water and sank from sight, Running Fox dove after it and brought him to the surface. Then he swam painfully to the shore with him, and placed him tenderly on the beach. There was an ugly wound over his eye, and his limbs were bruised and swollen. Running Fox himself was bloody and bruised, but he gave no thought to his wounds. Bending frantically over his friend he worked feverishly to expel the water from his lungs. He had seen his people restore more than one unfortunate swimmer, and he had hopes of bringing Spotted Deer back to life. However, his efforts seemed in vain and he called hysterically upon Getanittowit for aid.
“O Getanittowit, see what the Bad Water Spirits have done,” he cried. “O Getanittowit, take pity on me, and give me back my brother, Spotted Deer. See, Getanittowit, he is sleeping. O Getanittowit, take pity on him and wake him up.”
Then he worked with renewed energy. Still Spotted Deer showed no signs of life. Running Fox was on the verge of collapse. He realized that he would soon be unable to continue his efforts. The thought roused him. Then, when he had given up hope, Spotted Deer sighed and opened his eyes. He stared stupidly at Running Fox, and again lapsed into unconsciousness. Still he was alive, and that was sufficient for Running Fox. His strength returned, and he continued his exertions until Spotted Deer regained consciousness. Then, as the latter smiled and whispered his name, Running Fox fell exhausted beside him.
The following day found the Delawares too stiff and sore from their battle with the rapids to proceed with their journey. They limped as far as the spot where they had hidden their robes, and made no attempt to go farther. Besides, they had lost a number of their arrows in the river, and they spent the day making others to replace them. Toward evening as Running Fox was stalking several grouse that had alighted in a tree, he suddenly came upon a number of tracks that immediately claimed his attention. Dropping to his knees he examined them with great care. Then he rose and hastened to tell Spotted Deer, whom he had left resting upon a couch of hemlock boughs.
“Spotted Deer, if you feel strong enough you must rise and follow me,” said Running Fox. “I have found something to show you.”
“I will go,” declared Spotted Deer, rising stiffly to his feet.
They soon reached the spot where Running Fox had discovered the tracks, and Spotted Deer examined them with much interest.
“This is strange,” he said after a few moments. “These tracks look like the tracks of big dogs. How did they get here? Are we near a camp?”
“No, Spotted Deer, these are not dog tracks,” said Running Fox. “That is what I took them for when I first saw them. Then I knew different. These are the tracks of Timmeu, the wolf.”
“It is true,” replied Spotted Deer.
They noted that the tracks were several days old, and that the trail turned toward the north. It was also apparent that there had been a goodly number of wolves, for the lads saw tracks of various sizes. That night as they sat beside a small fire broiling the grouse which Running Fox had killed their thoughts turned to the wolf pack.
“I have heard the hunters tell about those wolves,” said Running Fox. “They are very large and very fierce. They have fought with many of our people. My father killed some of them when he was hunting along the river.”
“Why are they down in this country?” inquired Spotted Deer. “This is not the time for them to come down here. I have heard the hunters say that in the time of growing things they travel far beyond the country of the Mohawks.”
“What you say is so,” replied Running Fox. “When it is cold our people have found them down near our village. I do not know how they come to be here now.”
“Perhaps we shall see them,” Spotted Deer suggested, hopefully.
“No, I do not believe it,” said Running Fox.
The next day they resumed their journey at daylight. They had quite recovered from their trip through the rapids, and excepting a few minor cuts and bruises showed little evidence of the rough treatment which they had received from the river. They felt that they had escaped with a very light penalty for their foolishness, and they were very grateful to Getanittowit. However, they agreed that they would be more careful in the future.
“Pretty soon we will come to dangerous country,” said Spotted Deer, as they continued up the river.
“Yes, we must keep a sharp watch for our enemies,” replied Running Fox.
They traveled through a splendid forest of massive oaks and chestnuts, and they saw many signs of game. At one place they again saw wolf tracks, but they were many days old and the lads gave them little thought. Then they came upon a well-worn trail leading away from the river, and as it showed fresh deer tracks they determined to follow it. It soon led them to a shallow pool in the center of an open marshy swale. From the numberless footprints, and the manner in which the ground had been pawed, they knew at once that the place was a natural salt-lick. They also knew that animals of all sorts frequented such places, and as the day was less than half spent they determined to spend some time watching for game.
“Perhaps we shall see some of the creatures that appeared in my dream,” said Running Fox.
The wish was soon gratified, for they had barely concealed themselves at the edge of the woods when they heard something approaching. They watched closely, and in a few moments a splendid buck appeared on the border of the marsh.
“Achtu,” whispered Spotted Deer.
“Sh,” cautioned Running Fox, as he prepared an arrow.
The wind was in their favor, and they had little fear of being discovered. The deer made a splendid picture as it stood silhouetted against the vivid green background of the forest. It was a big, graceful creature, with horns still sheathed in the soft moss-like covering which protects them until they complete their growth in the autumn. The buck spent some moments listening, and sniffing for signs of danger. Then, satisfied that all was well, he started toward the pool. At that moment, however, the wind veered and brought him the danger scent. For one fleeting instant he halted with his head raised in alarm. Then, having located the danger, he wheeled and sprang toward shelter. Two arrows sped after him. One flew high and stuck in a sapling, but the other buried itself in his side. Then with a great bound he disappeared into the woods. The lads heard him crashing away in mad flight, and they looked at each other with disgust.
“That was bad work,” said Running Fox. “I was not ready. The wind fooled us.”
“My arrow is sticking in that tree,” laughed Spotted Deer.
“Well, we must follow him,” declared Running Fox. “My arrow struck too far back, but perhaps it will make him lie down.”
They hastened to the spot where the buck had disappeared, and found a number of large red splashes upon the leaves. It was evident that the deer had been hard hit, and they started hopefully on the trail. The buck was traveling in great bounds, and bleeding freely. It was not long, however, before they noticed that he was slackening his speed.
“We will soon come up with him,” said Running Fox.
Both lads were well experienced in the art of deer hunting, and they instantly recognized the unmistakable signs that promised an early collapse. They hurried along the trail, therefore, with high hopes of overtaking their quarry before the end of the day. The tracks led them into a vast hemlock swamp, and they advanced with great caution, for it looked like an ideal hiding place for the wounded buck. They soon saw that the deer had begun to walk, and at one place they saw that it had stopped as if preparing to lie down. It had gone on, however, and the lads hurried after it, keeping a sharp watch on all sides lest it should suddenly spring from cover and escape. As they penetrated into the gloomy depths of the swamp they saw many fresh tracks of lynx, and foxes and rabbits, but they paid little attention to them for they knew from experience that it was only by constant vigilance that they could hope to overtake and surprise the animal they sought.
“See, he is growing weak,” said Running Fox, as he pointed to a place in the trail which indicated that the buck had stumbled awkwardly over a log that lay in his path.
Then they saw him lying under a spruce a short distance ahead of them. The buck saw them at the same instant, and struggled to his feet. Running Fox shot his arrow and scored another hit, but as Spotted Deer released his bow-string the buck dashed between the trees and vanished from sight.
“He will not run so far this time,” prophesied Running Fox.
The trail turned off at a sharp angle, and soon brought them to the edge of the swamp. They followed it through the woods to a pretty woodland stream, and there they found the buck lying dead beside the water.
“Well, I have done what the great medicine deer told me to do,” said Running Fox.
“It is good,” replied Spotted Deer.
When they finished skinning and quartering the deer the twilight shadows were falling upon the forest, and they decided to spend the night beside the stream. As they were some distance from the river, they believed it might be safe to make a tiny fire and dry some of the meat to take with them. They worked at the task until long after darkness had fallen. Then, as they wrapped themselves in their robes, and were preparing to sleep, Spotted Deer suddenly sat up and listened anxiously.
“What is that?” he asked Running Fox.
For a moment or so they heard only the gentle murmuring of the breeze through the tree-tops. Then, far away in the night, they heard a sound that thrilled them. It was the hunting cry of the wolf-pack. They had heard it more than once in the winter near the Delaware village, and they recognized it immediately.
“Timmeu has found the blood trail,” said Running Fox.
The sounds came from somewhere beyond the swamp, and the lads had little doubt that the wolves were following the trail of the wounded buck. The thought stirred them, for they believed that they were about to have an encounter with the savage brutes about which they had heard so many wonderful tales. The sounds soon united in a wild babel that grew louder and more distinct each moment.
“They are coming fast,” said Spotted Deer.
“Well, we will wait for them,” declared Running Fox. “Come, we will bring in some brush for the fire, so that we can see them.”
They hurried to gather several armfuls of dry wood. Then they raked together the embers of their fire, and fanned them into a flame. By that time it was evident that the wolves were almost through the swamp. They were making a great din, and it seemed as if there were many animals in the pack. The eyes of the Delawares flashed as the wild baying drew nearer.
“Now they are getting close,” cried Spotted Deer.
“Yes, they have come out of the swamp,” replied Running Fox.
The lads had heard enough about that famous pack to feel sure that they would be attacked. Still the possibility failed to alarm them. They felt confident that they would be able to defend themselves, and they were eager for the fight. Then, as they waited anxiously for the wolves to appear, the commotion suddenly ceased.
“Perhaps the fire has frightened them away,” Spotted Deer said, regretfully.
“No, I do not believe it,” replied Running Fox. “Timmeu is very cautious. Perhaps they saw our fire. Perhaps they found the man scent. They are sneaking up to have a look at us. I have heard my father tell how they do that. We must keep a sharp watch.”
They listened anxiously, and peered eagerly into the darkness in the hope of locating the wolves. They felt quite certain that the wily brutes were close at hand endeavoring to learn the strength of their enemies before exposing themselves. For a long time, however, the alert young hunters could find no evidence of them. Then they heard a snarl almost in front of them. A moment afterward a pair of shining green eyes flashed in the darkness. The next instant they were gone.
“Come, we must put some brush on the fire,” said Running Fox.
As the flames flared up and threw a circle of yellow light some distance into the woods, the lads fitted arrows to their bows and watched for a chance at the wolves. However, it appeared that those crafty beasts were wise enough to keep beyond the glow. The Delawares heard them trotting about through the undergrowth, but they were unable to see them. The caution displayed by the wolves seemed like cowardice to the eager lads who waited impatiently for them to attack, and they began to doubt some of the stories they had heard concerning their ferocity.
“These animals are not brave,” sneered Spotted Deer. “Come, let us run out and chase them away.”
“That would be a foolish thing to do,” cautioned Running Fox. “We must not take any chances. I believe what we have heard is true. Perhaps they are getting ready to make a big fight. Listen. Do you hear that? It is their war-cry. Now we must be ready.”
A long, quavering howl sounded through the night. It was the rallying cry, and it was immediately answered by a wild din from the pack. It was evident that the wolves were growing bolder. They trotted about at the edge of the firelight, and the lads caught fleeting glimpses of dim, shadowy forms slinking through the shadows.
“Perhaps they will get brave enough to fight,” laughed Spotted Deer.
“They will fight,” Running Fox assured him.
The carcass of the deer was between the lads and the wolves, and it appeared that the latter were preparing to fight for possession of it. Still, it was some time before they grew hold enough to expose themselves in the firelight. At last, however, one great wolf more reckless than its companions rushed toward the prize. As it came into the glow Spotted Deer shot his arrow, and the wolf rolled into the hushes, howling dismally. Elated at his success, Spotted Deer raised his voice in the Delaware war-cry.
“That was a bad thing to do,” said Running Fox. “Perhaps that will reach the ears of an enemy.”
“It is true, Running Fox, I was very foolish,” Spotted Deer acknowledged, guiltily.
At that instant the wolves charged in a body, and the lads saw that they would have all the fighting they desired. They killed several of the leaders, and for a moment the others hesitated. Then they divided and formed a circle, and the Delawares realized that they had been surrounded. Once roused to the attack, the wolves showed little fear, and the lads soon found themselves engaged in a desperate encounter. Standing back to back to prevent being attacked from the rear, they fought furiously to keep the ferocious animals from reaching them. More than one wolf was stopped in mid-air as it leaped forward to drag them to the ground. Once Running Fox was compelled to use his war-club to crush the skull of a wolf that had eluded his arrow. A moment later he heard a warning cry from Spotted Deer, and wheeling about he saw the latter borne to earth by a huge wolf that had two arrows sticking in its side. Running Fox drove a third arrow into the fatal spot behind the shoulder, and Spotted Deer leaped to his feet unharmed. Then the wolves suddenly became demoralized, and retreated into the shadows. Spotted Deer was eager to follow them, but Running Fox cautioned against it.
“We have had a hard fight, but we have come out of it,” said Running Fox. “If we follow the wolves into the darkness we may be torn to pieces.”
“Perhaps that is so,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They piled more brush on the fire, and kept a sharp watch for another attack. However, as the time passed and the wolves failed to appear, the lads believed that they had skulked off. Still it was a long time before they dared to leave the fire to recover their arrows from the bodies of the wolves they had killed. While they were engaged in the task they heard savage snarls coming from the darkness, and saw the flash of angry eyes. They realized, therefore, that they were in constant danger of attack by the wounded wolves that had been unable to retreat with the pack.
“This is dangerous work,” said Running Fox. “I believe the best thing to do would be to wait until the light comes.”
He had barely uttered the warning, however, when a great black form rushed from behind a rock and attacked him. It snapped savagely at his legs, but he jumped aside in time to avoid the cruel white fangs. Then he wheeled at bay. He saw the hateful green eyes glaring at him through the night, and he aimed his arrow a short distance below them. As he released the bow-string the wolf attempted to spring at him, but the arrow plunged deep into its chest and ended its life. After that narrow escape the lads decided to withdraw to the fire. They gathered enough wood to last them through the night, and planned to take turns watching until daylight.