The Delawares had not gone far when they heard sounds which convinced them that the Mohawks were already searching for them. The thought spurred them to greater efforts, and they scrambled frantically to the top of a low hardwood ridge to reconnoiter. They saw what appeared to be a large spruce swamp directly ahead of them, and they determined to make it their hiding place.
“If we reach that place it will be hard for the Mohawks to find us,” said Running Fox.
As they started down the ridge, however, the piercing Mohawk war-cry rang in their ears, and an arrow hummed angrily between them. Spotted Deer instantly turned to fight, but Running Fox seized his arm and dragged him forward.
“Run! If we stop we may be surrounded!” cried Running Fox.
They tore through the undergrowth at top speed and another arrow flew harmlessly above their heads. As they ran Running Fox continued to shout, “Saganaga! Saganaga!” It was the name by which the Delawares were known to the Iroquois, and Spotted Deer could not guess his reason for proclaiming his identity. They heard the Mohawk yelling savagely somewhere behind them, and they knew that he was leading his comrades to the trail.
“Let us wait, and kill that warrior,” proposed Spotted Deer.
“Yes, yes, as soon as we get to the swamp,” replied Running Fox.
However, as they neared the swamp they heard other cries still farther behind them, and they realized that more Mohawks had joined the chase. Then the cries and signals suddenly ceased, and the Delawares knew that their foes were hurrying along in silence in the hope of surprising them. The lads dared not slacken their pace, and when they finally reached the border of the swamp they were almost exhausted. Then they turned at bay, and waited in ambush to kill the Mohawk who had attacked them on the summit of the ridge.
“How did that warrior come up with us so fast?” inquired Spotted Deer,
“Well, I believe that warrior was there all the time,” declared Running Fox. “Perhaps he was traveling along that ridge when he heard the danger cry of his people. Then he stopped to listen. Pretty soon he heard us coming through there. Then he tried to kill us. I do not believe he knows who we are.”
“Then why did you keep calling out ‘Saganaga’?” demanded Spotted Deer. “Now he will know that we are Delawares.”
“No, he will not know it,” laughed Running Fox. “I called out that way to fool him. He will take us for Shawnees. Yes, he will say, ‘Hi, the frightened Shawanos took me for a Saganaga.’ Yes, he will tell his people about it. They will take us for the boastful Shawnees.”
“Running Fox, you are very sharp,” said Spotted Deer. “Now I see that you have done a good thing. But we must kill that warrior who found us on the ridge. Yes, he will lead his people to this place, and perhaps they will find us.”
“Well, I would like to kill him, but I do not believe he will rush ahead alone,” replied Running Fox. “Perhaps he was with a war-party. I believe the best thing we can do will be to go into this big swamp and hide.”
They watched and listened a few moments longer, and then they retreated into the dreary depths of the swamp. Two-thirds of the day had passed, and they believed that it would be impossible for the Mohawks to find them before it grew dark. Then they hoped to steal away under cover of the night. However, the Mohawks seemed determined to transform the swamp into a trap, for instead of following the fugitives they scattered and surrounded their hiding place. At nightfall the Delawares heard them signaling on all sides of them, and their hearts filled with gloom. Running Fox began to fear that he had blundered.
“Spotted Deer, I believe we have done a foolish thing,” he said, bitterly. “Yes, I believe we should have kept out of this place.”
“The Mohawks cannot find us here,” Spotted Deer declared, confidently.
“Well, I am not sure about it,” replied Running Fox. “But it will be hard to get away.”
It was too late for regrets, however, and the Delawares determined to make the best of their predicament. When it grew dark, therefore, they began a cautions advance toward the edge of the swamp. They moved through the darkness as silently as phantoms. They had gone a considerable distance when Running Fox suddenly stopped and whispered a warning to Spotted Deer, who was following a bow-length behind him.
“Listen, something is coming,” cautioned Running Fox.
“Where is it?” inquired Spotted Deer.
“Sh,” breathed Running Fox.
Then, as they hastily prepared their arrows and stood there endeavoring to identify the sound, they heard stealthy footfalls somewhere ahead of them. They had little doubt that it was one of their foes. They wondered if it was the warrior who had surprised them on the ridge. A moment later a pair of great glassy eyes glowed in the darkness, and then they heard a frightened snort. The next instant a deer crashed off toward the border of the swamp.
“It was only Achtu,” said Spotted Deer.
“It is bad,” declared Running Fox. “If the Mohawks are watching they will hear Achtu. Then they will say, ‘Something has frightened that deer. Perhaps it was the people we are looking for.’ Yes, they will know where we are. We must turn and go a different way.”
“Yes, I believe it would be a good thing to do,” agreed Spotted Deer.
The lads immediately changed their course, and planned to leave the swamp farther to the west. They were moving cautiously in that direction when they heard the call of Gokhos, the owl. They felt quite sure it was a signal. In a few moments it was answered by the husky harking of Woakus, the fox. Both calls seemed to come from somewhere in the swamp, and the Delawares feared that the Mohawks had sent scouts to explore their hiding place.
“The scouts have come to find us,” said Running Fox. “We will fool them.”
They were almost at the border of the swamp when they were turned back by voices directly ahead of them. Then, as they retreated into the night, they again heard the short, quick yapping of Woakus, the fox. This time it seemed to be almost within bow-shot, and the lads realized their peril. They stopped and waited for the Mohawk scout to pass them. In a few moments they heard him. Then he seemed to stop, and the Delawares wondered if he had discovered them. Long, anxious moments passed while they stood there, with arrows ready, peering expectantly into the night. At last, however, they heard their foe moving toward the edge of the swamp, and they knew that for the moment at least they were safe.
“We must go back to the place we came from,” whispered Running Fox. “The Mohawks are all around us. We cannot get away.”
“We will hide until they go away,” said Spotted Deer.
They began a slow, cautious retreat toward the middle of the swamp. They were stopped many times by mysterious sounds which often seemed within bow-length of them, but each time the danger passed, and they finally gained the depths of the swamp in safety. Then they concealed themselves in the dense top of a fallen hemlock, and determined to stay there until daylight.
“Now we must find a better place,” said Running Fox, as the soft gray light of dawn penetrated their hiding place. “Pretty soon the Mohawks will come here to look for us. Then we must hide as close as Wisawanik, the squirrel.”
“This is a good place,” replied Spotted Deer. “If we keep still it will be hard to see us in here.”
“No, I do not like this place,” declared Running Fox. “The Mohawks will be sure to look into this tree-top. We must hide where they will not expect to find us.”
“Where shall we go?” asked Spotted Deer.
“Come, I will find a place,” Running Fox assured him.
Running Fox led the way to a great black spruce with low sweeping branches. Then, as he began to climb, he asked Spotted Deer to remain upon the ground. When Running Fox finally settled himself well up toward the top of the tree, he called down to Spotted Deer and asked if he could see him.
“No, I do not see anything of you,” replied Spotted Deer, after he had walked carefully about the tree.
“That is good,” said Running Fox. “Now you must climb up here.”
As Spotted Deer began to climb they heard the first Mohawk signal. It sounded a short distance south of them. In a few moments they heard other signals from the east, the west and the north.
“The Mohawks have made a circle,” said Running Fox. “Pretty soon they will draw together. Well, I do not believe they will find anything in their trap.”
“No, Wisawanik has told us how to hide, and we will fool them,” laughed Spotted Deer.
It was a long time before the lads heard anything further from their foes. Then a flock of crows made a great commotion a short distance to the right of them, and the Delawares believed that the noisy birds had discovered one of the Mohawk scouts. They took delight in picturing the rage of the helpless Mohawk as he heard the crows proclaiming his advance to all within hearing distance of them.
“Ahas is warning us,” whispered Running Fox. “We must watch sharp.”
“Ahas is a good friend,” replied Spotted Deer.
When they had watched a long time without seeing any one they decided that either Ahas had fooled them, or else the Mohawk had turned in some other direction. Then the noise began again, and this time the crows were much nearer. Peering carefully through the branches, the Delawares saw them circling about above the tree-tops. As-they watched them, and realized that the Mohawk scout might move directly toward their hiding place, the lads suddenly understood their peril.
“I do not like that,” Running Fox said, uneasily. “If Ahas flies this way it will be bad. Yes, he will see us, and make a great noise. Then the Mohawks will know where to find us.”
“That is true,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They watched the crows with great anxiety. The birds were flying about in short circles, and making a great racket. Then some of the crows swung off, and flew directly toward the stand of spruces in which the Delawares had taken refuge.
“Now we will see what is going to happen,” said Spotted Deer.
“Keep very still,” cautioned Running Fox.
As the crows approached their hiding place the Delawares huddled close to the trunk of the tree, and sat as motionless as statues. The crows passed so near that the lads distinctly heard the sound of their wings. They escaped discovery, however, and the thought gave them confidence.
“See, those other birds are going away,” Spotted Deer whispered, excitedly, a few moments afterward.
The crows had suddenly ceased their noise, and were flying off toward the opposite end of the swamp. The Delawares watched them with thankful hearts. They believed that Getanittowit had suddenly chased them away. However, the lads knew that the danger was far from over, for at that moment they heard a signal within bow-shot of their tree. A few moments afterward they heard an answer. Then they heard twigs snapping, and they looked at each other in alarm.
“The Mohawks are here,” whispered Running Fox.
They looked carefully down between the branches and saw a Mohawk warrior emerge from the shadows. He stopped within bow-length of the spruce, and the lads breathed fast with excitement. Then they heard him speak, and they saw that another Mohawk had joined him. The newcomer had approached so quietly that they had failed to hear him, and they realized how easily one of those soft-footed scouts might steal upon them under cover of the night. The two Mohawks exchanged a few words, and then they moved cautiously toward the top of the fallen hemlock. The lads trembled as they realized what would have happened if they had remained in that hiding place. The Mohawks stooped and looked carefully into the dense tangle of branches, and then they seated themselves upon the prostrate trunk. It was not long, however, before another signal sounded close at hand, and one of the warriors raised his hands to his mouth and imitated the gobble of the wild turkey. It brought an immediate response, and soon afterward a third warrior appeared. It looked as if the Mohawks had selected that very spot for a meeting place, and the alarmed Delawares feared the result. They knew that at any moment one of the keen-eyed scouts might decide to look into the tree-tops, and the possibility kept them in painful suspense. Signals were constantly being exchanged between the scouts who had met, and those who were still searching the swamp, and the crafty Delawares were careful to memorize the calls. When the signaling finally ceased the lads courted ten Mohawks sitting in council near the base of the spruce. They were stern, fierce looking men, and the Delawares could easily guess what their fate would be if they fell into their hands.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity to the anxious lads in the tree-top, the Mohawks rose and prepared to leave. However, at the very moment when the Delawares were rejoicing in their good fortune, one of the scouts turned and looked toward the big spruce. The lads believed that in some mysterious way he had suddenly learned their whereabouts. Their hearts almost stopped beating at the thought. The Mohawk was still looking up at the tree, and saying something to one of his companions. That warrior, too, seemed to have discovered something of interest in the top of the spruce. The Delawares were almost afraid to breathe. They knew that the slightest move would betray them. Then as the moments passed, and the Mohawks showed no intention of attacking them, they began to hope that they had not been seen. Still the two Mohawks continued to talk, and watch the tree. The other scouts had already passed from sight.
“Come, these warriors are alone, let us kill them before they tell their friends about us,” whispered Spotted Deer.
“No, we must wait until we are sure they have found us,” cautioned Running Fox.
A moment afterward they saw the wisdom of his advice, for the two Mohawks turned and disappeared after their comrades. The Delawares looked after them in wide-eyed astonishment. They could scarcely believe that they had gone.
“See, the robe Wisawanik gave us hides us from our enemies,” said Running Fox. “Yes, Ahas flew over us, and could not find us. Then the boastful Mohawks looked into this tree, and could not see us.”
“Perhaps the Mohawks have gone to tell their friends about us,” suggested Spotted Deer. “Perhaps they will come back.”
“No, they would not leave us here to get away,” replied Running Fox. “I believe that warrior was looking at this great tree. Yes, I believe he was telling his friend something about it. Perhaps something happened to him at this place. I do not believe he saw us.”
However, the lads watched anxiously for some time after the Mohawks had disappeared. More than once they thought they heard them returning, but as the time passed and they failed to appear the Delawares began to hope that they had actually left the swamp. They had little doubt that other Mohawks were stationed along the boundaries of the swamp, and they believed it would be folly to attempt to leave their hiding place before their foes had abandoned the search. They felt quite certain that the Mohawks would loiter along the edge of the swamp through the night, hoping that the fugitives would attempt to escape under cover of darkness. Therefore, the wily Delawares determined to remain in the swamp until the following day.
“It is the best thing to do,” declared Running Fox. “If the Mohawks do not hear anything of us when it grows dark, then I believe they will give up the hunt. Yes, I believe they will go away before the next sun appears.”
“You are a good leader,” Spotted Dear declared, loyally, “You have fooled the Mohawks. Now I believe we will get out of here.”
The night passed without alarm, and at daylight the Delawares began to listen for signals. As the time passed, and they neither saw nor heard anything of the Mohawks, they believed that they had finally abandoned the pursuit.
“It is good,” declared Spotted Deer. “Now we will hurry away from here,”
“No, we must wait a little longer,” Running Fox warned him. “I believe the Mohawks have gone away, but we must be sure. Perhaps they are keeping quiet to fool us. Yes, they may be waiting along the edge of the swamp.”
“Well, we will stay here,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They waited until the day was half gone, and then, having heard nothing to rouse their suspicions, they again moved cautiously toward the border of the swamp. As they neared it, they stopped and spent a long time listening and watching. The way seemed clear, however, and they determined to risk all on the chance. A few moments afterward they crossed the boundary of the swamp, and disappeared into the forest.
“Now we are safe,” laughed Spotted Deer.
“Well, we got out of that trap, but there is still great danger,” Running Fox warned him. “This country is filled with our enemies. We must keep watching.”
Running Fox turned toward the west, as he believed that the Mohawks were somewhere to the eastward. Besides, if his enemies should discover his trail he hoped to mislead them into believing that he and Spotted Deer were Shawnees, for he knew that those people lived in the great wilderness to the westward. The Delawares continued to travel until long after darkness had fallen, and finally stopped in a dense forest of pines. They were greatly elated over their successful escape, but they were somewhat worried by the thought that the Mohawks might have learned their identity.
“If they know who we are, it will be hard to get near their camp,” said Spotted Deer.
“Yes, that is true,“ replied Running Fox. ”But I do not believe they know who we are. I believe they took us for Shawnee scouts.”
The next day the Delawares turned toward the north. They had been told that the Mohawk village was somewhere within a day’s journey of a large woodland lake, and they climbed to all the high places to look for it. Their efforts were in vain, however, for the vast wilderness continued unbroken as far as they could see. The following day, therefore, Running Fox proposed that they should separate, and explore the country in different directions.
“Yes, I believe it is the best thing to do,” said Spotted Deer.
It was agreed that Spotted Deer should reconnoiter from a range of mountains farther to the westward, while Running Fox continued northward along the ridge of hills which they had followed from the headwaters of the river. They planned to meet at the end of the second day at the base of a large pine-clad mountain about a day’s journey toward the north.
“Well, we are going away from each other,” said Running Fox. “We will be in great danger. We must not let the Mohawks catch us.”
“We will watch out,” said Spotted Deer.
They agreed that if either of them failed to appear at the meeting place at the appointed time the other was to wait there a full day longer. Then if his comrade failed to appear he was to go in search of him. The thought depressed them. They realized fully the peril of venturing alone through the stronghold of their foes, but they saw no other way of learning the location of the Mohawk camp. As Running Fox had said, it seemed to be the only thing to do, and they determined to make the best of it. Therefore, they parted without further ceremony, and hurried away on their mission.
Early the second day, as Running Fox reconnoitered from the summit of a high mountain, he discovered what appeared to be a large body of water several days’ journey farther toward the north. He watched it a long time, and finally decided that it must be the lake of which he had heard. Then he examined the sky for a trace of smoke from the hidden Mohawk camp. Several times he thought he had found it, but each time it turned out to be clouds, and he finally decided that it would be useless to waste more time looking for it. Well pleased with his discovery, he hastened down the mountain and set out to meet Spotted Deer.
As Running Fox drew near the meeting place he stopped to reconnoiter. Then, after he had circled carefully through the woods to make sure that no enemies were lurking in the vicinity, he continued toward the spot where he and Spotted Deer had planned to meet. Daylight had faded into dusk, and night was near at hand. They had agreed to meet before dark, and Running Fox felt quite sure that Spotted Deer was already at the meeting place. To make sure he whistled the plaintive notes of the white-throated sparrow. It was one of the signals which they had agreed upon, and Running Fox listened anxiously for the answer. When he had repeated the song many times without getting a reply he began to worry. Then he told himself that perhaps Spotted Deer was somewhere out of range of the signal. To make sure of reaching him, he imitated the shrill quavering cry of Quenischquney, the panther. It echoed through the woods with startling force, and Running Fox knew that if Spotted Deer were anywhere near he would be sure to hear it. Still it brought no response, and Running Fox was perplexed. Twice more he sent the startling shriek ringing through the wilderness, and each time he feared that sharp Mohawk ears might hear it, and detect the counterfeit. Still he saw no other way of learning whether Spotted Deer was in the vicinity. However, as time passed and he heard nothing from his friend he became alarmed. He wondered what had detained Spotted Deer. The question suggested many alarming possibilities, and Running Fox tried to drive them from his thoughts. He told himself that Spotted Deer would appear before the night passed, and soon after it grew dark he began to signal with the call of the little red owl. He called many times, but no response came out of the darkness. Then, when half of the night had passed, Running Fox began to lose hope. He feared that Spotted Deer had been killed or captured by the Mohawks, and the thought drove him to despair. His first impulse was to rush recklessly away in search of Spotted Deer. Then he suddenly remembered that he had agreed to wait a full day at the meeting place.
Running Fox spent the following day in an agony of suspense. He neither saw or heard anything of Spotted Deer, and by the time night came the miserable lad had worried himself into a frenzy of despair. He had little doubt that Spotted Deer had fallen a victim to the Mohawks, and he began to blame himself for having sent him upon the expedition. Then his heart filled with anger, and he determined to search the wilderness until he had learned the fate of his friend. If Spotted Deer was a prisoner he vowed to rescue him, and if he had been killed he promised to avenge his death. Then, sleep being out of the question, Running Fox spent the night singing his medicine-songs and praying to Getanittowit for the safety of Spotted Deer.
Day had barely dawned when Running Fox started away in search of his friend. He turned toward the west, and traveled at a pace that brought him to the rugged range of mountains which Spotted Deer had set out to explore, by midday. He climbed to the top of the ridge and continued toward the north. As he sped through the forest, the distracted lad kept a constant watch for the trail of Spotted Deer. However, he was unable to find the slightest clue, and at dark he abandoned the search with a heavy heart.
Having failed to discover any evidence of his friend, Running Fox was in doubt as to just what to do. He still hoped that Spotted Deer might be safe, and in that case he believed that he would eventually return to the meeting place. Running Fox realized, therefore, that unless he, too, returned, Spotted Deer might go in search of him. He told himself that in that event they might never find each other. On the other hand if Spotted Deer had been captured each moment was precious, and Running Fox dreaded to think what might happen if he blundered into a wrong decision. At daylight, however, he determined to return to the place where they had agreed to meet.
The day had ended when Running Fox finally arrived at the appointed rendezvous. He approached the spot with high hopes. At each stride he expected to hear the familiar signal from his friend. When he failed to hear it, he stopped and again whistled the notes of the white-throated sparrow. Then he waited, straining his ears for the reply. There was no answer, however, and Running Fox gave way to despair. He needed no further proof. He was sure that Spotted Deer had fallen into the hands of his foes. As he pictured his plight, Running Fox blamed himself for not continuing the search. He feared he had lost the chance of saving Spotted Deer. Running Fox knew only too well the hatred which the Mohawks held for his people, and he felt sure that they would lose little time in taking vengeance upon the unfortunate young captive. The thought drove him to distraction. He determined to return at once to the distant mountain range, and continue the search until he found the Mohawks and learned the fate of his friend. However, his strength was unequal to the task, for two days of forced traveling had completely exhausted him. He realized, therefore, that it would be folly to attempt to do anything further until he had recovered from his exertions.
Night had already closed down, and the disconsolate young warrior threw himself upon the ground, and moaned out his grief for his friend. At intervals he roused himself, and sat up to listen. More than once he fancied he heard a cautious footfall near at hand, or a faint signal farther away, and his heart bounded wildly. Each, time, however, his imagination played him false, and his hope gave way to deeper despair. At other times he imitated the call of the little red owl. It was a favorite signal which he and Spotted Deer had used since their first hunting expedition, and his heart ached as it went unanswered. Then his tortured brain finally sought relief in sleep.
The sun was shining when Running Fox awakened. As he opened his eyes, and sat up, he exclaimed with surprise. Spotted Deer was seated within bow-length of him.
“Yes, I am here,” laughed Spotted Deer, as Running Fox continued to stare at him in speechless amazement.
“I cannot believe what I see,” stammered Running Fox, as he moved over to Spotted Deer and seized his hand. “Well, now I see that you are not a ghost. How did you get here?”
“I came to this place while it was dark,” explained Spotted Deer. “Then I gave the call of the little red owl. I did that many times, but no one answered. Then I moved around looking for you. At last I found you. At first I was frightened, for I thought you were dead. When you did not move I touched you. You did not feel it. Then I shook you. You did not feel that either. Then I got frightened again. Well, I stooped over and listened. I heard your breath. That made me feel good. Then I said, ‘I will sit here beside him, and pretty soon he will open his eyes and see me.’ Well, you kept on sleeping, and pretty soon I fell asleep. When it grew light I opened my eyes. Then I waited. Now you see me.”
Running Fox spent some moments in silent meditation. He was greatly disturbed at what Spotted Deer had told him. He realized that utter exhaustion had placed him at the mercy of any foe who might have happened along. The thought worried him. He felt ashamed of his weakness.
“Spotted Deer, I see you here alive—it is enough,” Running Fox declared, warmly. “I believed that the Mohawks had caught you. Now I see that you have escaped. I am feeling good again. But I must tell you that I am troubled about something else. You say that you came up and took hold of me. That is bad. A good war-leader would not let that happen. I do not know how it happened, but I feel bad about it.”
“Running Fox, you must not talk that way,” replied Spotted Deer. “Perhaps it will never happen again. You were very tired.”
Then Running Fox told of his exhausting search to find him, and Spotted Deer instantly understood the reason for the helpless condition in which he had found him.
“Now I see how it happened,” said Spotted Deer. “If you were not very strong you would have been dead. Yes, if you were not a good war-leader you would not have come back here. We will not talk any more about it.”
“Well, what did you find?” inquired Running Fox.
“I found a big war-party,” declared Spotted Deer.
“Tell about it,” Running Fox said, eagerly.
“Well, after I went away from here I went right to those mountains where you tried to find me,” said Spotted Deer. “I could not see any water so I kept going ahead. Soon after the second sun I heard some signals. Then I heard some more. That made me very cautious. Well, pretty soon I found an old trail. It turned back this way. Then I hid myself between some rocks, and began to watch. After a long time I heard some one coming. Then two warriors went by very fast. I could not see what they looked like. Well, I kept watching, and pretty soon I heard many voices. Then I saw that those people were not following the trail. They passed behind me. I followed them. When the next sun came I saw that they were moving toward The-Place-Where-The-Cold-Comes-From. Then I climbed a high hill, and saw a big piece of water. It was about two suns’ travel ahead of those people. Then I said, ‘Hi, they are Mohawks, and their village is near that water.’ Well, I found out what I wished to know. Then I came here.”
When Spotted Deer finished speaking Running Fox remained silent. He seemed to be thinking about what Spotted Deer had told him. The latter watched him closely. He wondered if he had displeased him by remaining away so long.
“Well, Running Fox, how do you feel about it?” asked Spotted Deer.
“You say that you have found out what you wished to know,” replied Running Fox. “I am not sure about that. I, too, saw that piece of water. I came back to tell about it. I did not see any signs of the Mohawk village. Perhaps it is near some other piece of water. You say that you could not tell who those warriors are. Then how do you know that they are Mohawks? We must not be too sure about that. There is only one way to find out. We must catch up with them. Spotted Deer, I am not saying anything against what you have done. This is our first war-trail. You found those people. It was a good thing to do.”
“Running Fox, you have spoken good words,” declared Spotted Deer. “Now I see that I did not find out enough about those people. Well, I will do whatever you tell me to do.”
“We will go and find them,” replied Running Fox.
The Delawares immediately set out to find the distant lake, and learn the identity of the people whom Spotted Deer had seen. They followed the route which Running Fox had taken several days before, and late the second day they climbed to the top of the high mountain from which he had discovered the lake. They judged that the water was about two days’ journey away.
“Does that look like the water you saw!” Running Fox asked Spotted Deer.
“Yes, it is the same,” replied Spotted Deer.
Then he turned toward the west, and pointed out the route which the unknown war-party had followed.
“Well, if they did not turn off some other way they must be at the water by now,” declared Running Fox. “It would be foolish, to try to catch up with them. We must go ahead carefully, and see if we can find their camp.”
“Yes, that is how I feel about it,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They spent the night on the mountain-top, and at dawn resumed their journey toward the lake. Later in the day, as they were making their way through a dense swamp, they heard a harsh cry over their heads. Looking up they saw a large bald eagle circling slowly above the tree-tops. Running Fox immediately became excited.
“See, there is Woapalanne!” he cried. “That means a fight. Yes, I saw him flying around like that before I had the battle with the bear. Do you hear him calling? Well, that is the war-cry of his people. Spotted Deer, I believe we are going into some kind of danger.”
“Well, I do not know about those things, but I believe that what you say is true,” said Spotted Deer.
They watched the eagle with gloomy forebodings, and as it chanced to disappear into the north their suspicions were strengthened. Running Fox felt confident that they were about to have an encounter with their foes.
“We must keep together, and watch sharp,” he warned Spotted Deer.
At the end of the following day they reached the lake. Having seen nothing of the roving company of warriors that Spotted Deer had encountered, the lads wondered whether they were encamped somewhere along the shore of the lake. They determined to take every precaution, and instead of advancing directly to the lake they stopped on the top of a low ridge some distance back from the water.
“We will wait here until it gets dark,” said Running Fox. “Then we will crawl down there, and see if we can find out anything.”
The lake was large, and the Delawares had little doubt that it was the body of water for which they had been cautioned to watch. They wondered where the Mohawk camp was located. They believed it was somewhere toward the north. Still they saw no evidence of it. They searched the sky until dark, but were unable to find a trace of smoke. Then, as night finally shut down, they determined to go to the shore of the lake to search for the war-party.
The Delawares stole down through the silent black woods as softly and as cautiously as Woakus, the fox. When they reached the edge of the water they immediately sat down to watch and listen. They had little hope of finding the telltale gleam from a camp-fire, for they knew that if the Mohawks were actually on the war-trail they would not dare to expose themselves in that manner, even in the heart of their own stronghold. Therefore, when the lads found nothing to alarm them, they advanced carefully along the shore of the lake. They had gone some distance when they were astonished to see the light of a fire shining out over the water. It was far ahead of them near the other end of the lake, and for some moments the Delawares watched it in silence.
“It must be that those warriors have stopped there,” said Spotted Deer.
“It is mysterious,” replied Running Fox. “If those people are on the war-trail why do they make a fire?”
The lads were unable to explain it. They had seen the Mohawks painted for war, and under those circumstances it seemed incredible that they would dare to make a fire. It appeared as if it must have been lighted by some one else. Still, that too seemed beyond belief. The Delawares realized that even a large war-party of enemies would scarcely be so bold in the domains of their foes. Then Spotted Deer suggested that it might be a company of warriors from one of the western villages of the Iroquois.
“Yes, that may be true,” agreed Running Fox. “But there is something strange about it.”
“What is it?” inquired Spotted Deer.
“Well, these people may he Oneidas or Onondagas,” said Running Fox. “Perhaps they have come here to talk with their brothers, the Mohawks. Perhaps they do not know that the Mohawks are on the war-trail. Perhaps they have not seen any enemies on their journey. Well, if this water is near the Mohawk village, why did these people stop here? If they are the same people you saw, then they must have arrived here before the last sun appeared. Why did they wait here? If they had gone on they would be pretty close to the Mohawk camp by now.”
“What you say is true,” replied Spotted Deer. “But I will tell you how it might be. I do not believe these people are Mohawks. I believe I was wrong about that. I believe that they are Oneidas or Onondagas. Perhaps they are Cayugas or Senecas from far away toward the place Where-The-Sun-Goes-To-Sleep. Well, perhaps they have made a long journey. Perhaps they want to rest. Perhaps the Mohawks do not know they are here. Then they must wait. Yes, they must send scouts to tell the Mohawks that they are coming to see them. Then the Mohawks will get ready a big feast. It is the proper way to do. I believe that is why we have found them here.”
“Well, I see that it may be as you say,” said Running Fox. “But we will not find out about it by sitting here and talking. We see a fire. Well, we must creep up close, and find out who made it.”
“I am ready,” declared Spotted Deer.
They rose and began a daring advance along the edge of the lake. They moved with great caution, stopping frequently to listen for a warning of danger. However, the fire was a considerable distance ahead of them, and they believed that they would be comparatively safe until they got within bow-shot of it. Then they were startled by a loud splash in the river.
“What was that?” Spotted Deer whispered, anxiously.
“Sh,” cautioned Running Fox.
They listened many moments but the silence was unbroken.
“Perhaps it was some one paddling a canoe,” said Spotted Deer.
“I believe it was a big fish,” replied Running Fox. “Perhaps it was Maschilamek, the trout.”
Then, as they heard nothing more, they continued toward the fire. They had not gone far before they smelled smoke. They knew that the wind was in their favor. It gave them confidence, for they realized that there was less likelihood of being heard. A short time afterward they saw a small light flash across their path. A moment later it appeared at one side of them. Spotted Deer stopped.
“It is only Sasappis, the fire-fly,” whispered Running Fox.
“He is carrying his torch to frighten the witches out of the woods,” declared Spotted Deer. “My mother has told me about him. We must be careful not to harm him.”
A short distance farther on they were halted by the deep ringing notes of the big horned owl. The call seemed to come from somewhere to the right of them. It was repeated three times in rapid succession, and the Delawares immediately became suspicious. A few moments afterward they heard another owl calling directly behind them. It was so near that they easily detected a number of false notes in it. They knew it was a signal, and their hearts filled with alarm.
“We have run into a trap,” Running Fox whispered, savagely. “Come, we must get to the water. It is the only chance.”
They were close upon the river, but as they turned to reach it they heard twigs snapping directly ahead of them. Then they realized that they had been surrounded, and that they must fight against heavy odds to save themselves. They saw now that the fire was a clever ruse of their enemies to draw their foes into an ambush. The lads had little doubt that they were again face to face with the hated Mohawks.
“Stand still!” whispered Running Fox, as they heard some one passing through the bushes at the edge of the river. “It is dark, and they may go by us. Then we must rush into the water, and swim to the other side.”
“Let us climb into a tree,” proposed Spotted Deer.
“No, that would be foolish,” replied Running Fox. “These people have surrounded us. They are close. If we climb into a tree they will know where we have gone. Then they will wait until it gets light, and kill us like Wisawanik, the squirrel.”
The next moment a piercing yell rang through the night, and the Delawares heard their foes rushing forward on all sides of them. For an instant they stood there, filled with panic. Then Running Fox recovered his wits, and took command.
“Come, we must fight our way to the water!” he cried.
Fitting arrows to their bows they hurried toward the river. They had not covered half of the distance, when two stalwart figures rose out of the darkness to oppose them. An arrow sped close to Running Fox, and the next instant his own arrow dropped his enemy to the ground. Turning to call Spotted Deer, he heard him thrashing about in the undergrowth. Rushing to his assistance, Running Fox found him fighting valiantly for his life. Running Fox drove an arrow between the shoulders of his assailant, and as the warrior rolled over the young Delaware stooped and peered eagerly into his face. He felt sure that he was not a Mohawk, but he was unable to identify him. Running Fox noted, however, that the warrior’s face was streaked with charcoal, in token of war. Then the lads heard their foes closing in upon them, and they realized that they must be off. As they sped toward the river they heard some one behind them shouting, “Mengwe! Mengwe!” at the top of his voice.
“Now I know who these people are,” cried Running Fox. “That person behind us is shouting the Shawnee name for the Mohawks. Yes, this is a Shawnee war-party. They take us for Mohawks. It is good.”
The Delawares reached the edge of the water in safety, and had waded in knee-deep when the first Shawnees appeared on the shore. Then, as an arrow hummed ominously above their heads, the lads plunged forward and swam furiously to escape from bow-shot. They heard the Shawnees rushing into the river in pursuit of them, and as soon as they reached deeper water the Delawares dove from sight. They rose to the surface within several bow-lengths of each other, far out in the river. They listened a moment to make sure that none of their foes were within reach of them, and then they turned and swam toward the opposite shore. They passed through the water as silently as Winingus, the mink, for they knew that sharp-eared foes were listening to catch the faintest sound. They heard a number of signals from the shore they had left, and once they thought they heard voices within bow-shot of them. It drove them to greater efforts, and they raced through the water at top speed. However, as they drew near the shore and found themselves in shallow water they moved more cautiously. They believed that, having lost sight of them in the darkness, their crafty foes were listening to hear them leave the water, and they determined to take every precaution against giving a clue.
“We will swim ahead until we are a long ways above this place,” proposed Spotted Deer.
“No, that would be a bad thing to do,” Running Fox told him. “If the Shawnees reach land they will travel faster than we can move through the water. Perhaps they will send scouts along the edge of the water. Then it would be hard to get into the woods. We will swim ahead a little ways, and then we will walk out.”
They swam some distance farther, and then waded ashore. They waited a moment at the edge of the forest to listen for the Shawnees. The fire was still burning brightly on the opposite shore, and the Delawares smiled grimly as they realized how easily they had blundered into the trap that had been set for their enemies, the Mohawks. Then, as they feared that the Shawnee swimmers had reached land and begun to search for them, they turned and sped away into the night.
Running Fox immediately took the lead, and turned toward the north. He believed that the Shawnees would hesitate to follow them far in that direction for fear of being led into an ambush. Besides, it was the only direction in which the Delawares could go without sacrificing their lead. It was not long, however, before they heard signals ringing through the night a short distance behind them.
“The Shawnees are close, we must travel faster,” said Running Fox.
Dawn was breaking when they reached the end of the lake. Having heard nothing further from their pursuers they believed that they had turned back. However, the fact that both the Mohawks and the Shawnees were painted for war kept them alert to their danger. They believed that a big battle was impending, and they felt sure that the wilderness was filled with hostile scouts. Shortly after sunrise, therefore, they stopped to rest, and hold a council-of-war.
“I believe the best thing to do is to keep going ahead until the sun goes down,” declared Running Fox. “Then we will climb to a high place, and look for smoke. If we do not see it, then we must circle around. Yes, we must climb to all the high places, and look every way. I do not believe the Mohawk camp is beyond two suns’ journey away. Perhaps it is nearer.”
“I do not see any other way to do,” replied Spotted Deer.
They resumed their way into the north, keeping a sharp watch for their foes, and climbing to the tops of the ridges to search the sky for smoke. At the end of the day, however, they had seen nothing which would give them a clue to the location of the Mohawk camp.
“Perhaps it is not near that water,” suggested Spotted Deer. “Perhaps we have gone the wrong way.”
“No, I do not believe it,” said Running Fox,
“I am thinking about something different. The Mohawks are at war with the Shawnees. Perhaps they are afraid to make fires.”
“Then how can we find the camp?” inquired Spotted Deer.
“I believe it will be a hard thing to do,” replied Running Fox. “We must ask Getanittowit to help us.”
The following day they again decided to separate—Running Fox to make a half circle toward the east, while Spotted Deer made a similar detour toward the west. They agreed to meet at dark at a great spire-shaped rock on the summit of a low hill directly ahead of them.
“No matter what you see, come back when it gets dark,” said Running Fox,
“I will do as you tell me,” agreed Spotted Deer.
Running Fox made his way toward a ridge of hills less than a half day’s journey to the eastward. He had traveled about two-thirds of the distance when he suddenly came upon the remains of a small fire. It had been made between two rocks, and cleverly concealed by a screen of brush. A few embers still glowed from the ashes, and it was evident that whoever had camped there had only recently departed. Running Fox circled carefully about the spot, trying to learn the identity of the firemaker. He found some tracks leading toward the east. However, he was only able to follow them a short distance, as the country was rough and rocky, and they soon disappeared. Running Fox believed that the crafty scout had purposely left a plain trail for a short distance to baffle his foes. The Delaware felt quite sure that farther on the unknown traveler had turned in another direction.
“I must watch out for that person,” Running Fox told himself.
He reached the ridge of hills a short time afterward, and looked anxiously toward the north for evidence of the Mohawk camp. The sky was clear and cloudless, however, and there was no trace of smoke. Running Fox felt troubled. He feared that the unexpected appearance of the Shawnees threatened the success of his expedition. Still he had no thought of turning back. Having made his boast to his father he determined to make it good, or sacrifice his life in the attempt.
The day was well advanced, and Running Fox had about decided to leave the ridge and return to Spotted Deer, when he suddenly discovered a heavy column of smoke rising above the tree-tops a short distance south of him. It suggested many interesting possibilities, and Running Fox studied it closely. For a long time it puzzled him. He could scarcely believe that it came from the Mohawk camp. In the first place he felt sure that the camp was farther from the lake. Besides, there was but one dense column of smoke, while smoke from a village usually rose in several thin columns, or hovered above the camp in light hazy clouds. Running Fox decided, therefore, that the smoke which he saw must be a signal. The possibility quickened his interest. Then the smoke column began to waver and break. In a few moments he saw it separate into a number of puffs or clouds. They followed one another at short intervals, and Running Fox became convinced that some one was sending a message. He would have given much to have been able to read it. He searched the sky in all directions, hoping to see an answer but none appeared.
“I believe some one is talking to the Mohawk camp,” said Running Fox.
The Delaware realized that if his guess was true it was quite probable that the signal would go unanswered. He believed that it would be read by sharp-eyed sentinels who had been stationed on the high places to watch for it, but he felt sure that no tell-tale spiral of smoke would be permitted to betray the location of the village. If an answer were sent, Running Fox believed it would appear somewhere far away from the camp. Still, the mere sight of the signal filled him with hope, for he told himself that the Mohawk village was surely somewhere within sight. He waited until the smoke faded from the sky, and then as he saw nothing to indicate that the signal would be answered he hurried away to meet Spotted Deer.
Darkness had already fallen when Running Fox approached the rock where he was to meet his friend. This time, however, his signal brought an immediate response, for Spotted Deer was waiting for him.
“We have found each other—it is good,” said Spotted Deer.
“It is good, my brother,” replied Running Fox. “Have you looked around?”
“Yes, I have circled all around this hill; there is no one hiding here,” Spotted Deer assured him.
“Then we will sit down and talk,” said Running Fox.
Running Fox told what he had seen to the eastward, and Spotted Deer listened with great attention. The smoke particularly impressed him. He agreed with Running Fox that it must have been a signal. However, Spotted Deer was not so sure that it had anything to do with the camp.
“Perhaps that smoke was sent up by the Shawnees,” he suggested. “Perhaps a Mohawk scout was talking with the war-party.”
“Well, it may turn out that way, but I feel different about it,” insisted Running Fox. “Now you must tell me what you found out.”
Spotted Deer said that he had gone a considerable distance toward the west without discovering any signs of his foes. Then he had climbed to the top of a mountain to reconnoiter. He had watched a long time when he finally saw what he believed was smoke far away toward the north. He had strained his eyes to make sure, but it faded from the sky before he could convince himself. Then he had set out to meet Running Fox.
“That is what happened,” concluded Spotted Deer.
“Well, we have not done much,” Running Fox declared, gloomily. “I believe the Mohawk camp is close. There is only one thing to do. We must keep moving around until we find it. We will wait here until the next sun comes. Then we will look around some more.”
The following day they again scouted carefully through the woods in search of the Mohawk camp. This time, however, they remained together and turned toward the north. Running Fox felt convinced that the village was somewhere in that direction, and as he was the leader Spotted Deer was content to rely upon his judgment.
“I believe there must be a trail going toward that camp,” declared Spotted Deer.
“Well, I did not hear our people say anything about it,” replied Running Fox.
Nevertheless they determined to keep a sharp watch for anything that looked like an opening through the forest. They continued toward the north for half of the day, and then Running Fox proposed that they should circle toward the west.
“That will bring us near the place where you saw something that looked like smoke,” he told Spotted Deer.
“Well, I am not sure about what I saw, but I believe it would be a good thing to go over there, and look around,” said Spotted Deer.
Then for a long time they traveled in silence. Running Fox seemed moody and thoughtful, and Spotted Deer made no attempt to rouse him. The latter realized that a war-leader had many responsibilities, and he felt quite sure that Running Fox was meditating upon some plan for bringing success to his undertaking.
“Spotted Deer, there are two things that trouble me,” Running Fox said, finally.
Spotted Deer remained silent. He knew that it would not do to question a war-leader unless the latter chose to enlighten him.
“First I am troubled because I have not found Gokhos, the great white Medicine Owl,” continued Running Fox. “If we had the skin of that mysterious bird I believe much good would come of it. But I am troubled about another thing. Yes, I am troubled about the Shawnees. They have come into this country to fight the Mohawks. It is a bad thing for us. I believe the Mohawks will keep many warriors around the village. Well, now I will tell you something different. I have set out to do this thing, and I am going through with it no matter what happens to me.”
“Those are good words,” Spotted Deer declared, admiringly. “You will soon find Gokhos, the great white Medicine Owl, and then we will be able to do some great things. I am not thinking about the Shawnees——”
“Stop!” Running Fox interrupted, excitedly. “I see smoke rising behind that ridge.”
They saw a misty blue haze drifting above the top of a low ridge directly ahead of them.
“That is the place I was looking at,” said Spotted Deer. “Yes, I know it by that big mountain over there.”
“I believe we have found the Mohawk camp,” declared Running Fox. “We must watch sharp. If the village is on the other side of that ridge we are very close. Spotted Deer, I believe we are in great danger.”
They immediately concealed themselves in the woods to watch. It was not long, however, before both of them agreed that the smoke came from the Mohawk camp. The thought filled them with joy. They believed that they were almost within sight of their goal, and they were eager to verify their hopes. However, Running Fox realized that it would be the height of folly to attempt to look over the ridge before dark. He had little doubt that, if the camp really was on the other side, the crafty Mohawks had stationed scouts along the crest of the ridge to guard the village against surprise. Therefore, he decided to wait until night came to his assistance.
“We must stay here until it gets dark,” he told Spotted Deer. “Then we will creep up on that ridge, and find out if the camp is over there.”
“I believe we will find it,” Spotted Deer replied, confidently.
“Well, that smoke looks like camp smoke, but I am not sure about it,” said Running Fox.