The night passed without further attack, and at dawn the lads scouted carefully about the scene of the battle and found the bodies of twelve large timber wolves. They found another wounded wolf hiding under the top of a fallen tree, and they rushed upon it and killed it with their war-clubs. Well pleased with their victory, the young Delawares spent some time chanting war-songs and dancing about the bodies of their victims. Then they broke off the tusks of the largest wolves as trophies to be proudly exhibited when they finally returned to the Delaware village.
On the way back to the river Running Fox saw a small dark animal bounding along ahead of him. He immediately ran in pursuit of it, and as it flashed up the trunk of a tree he saw that it was, as he had guessed, a black squirrel. The squirrel hid on one side of the tree, and as Running Fox moved cautiously about the tree-trunk the crafty little creature moved with him, so that he was unable to surprise it. At last, however, Running Fox took his bow and stirred the leaves on the opposite side of the tree. It was an old hunting trick which he had learned from his father, and it proved entirely successful. Thinking that its pursuer was coming around on that side the bewildered squirrel edged around in full view of Running Fox. A moment afterward it fell at his feet with an arrow through its body.
“Well, Wisawanik knows how to hide, but I fooled him,” laughed Running Fox, as he held up the prize. “See, Spotted Deer, I have killed a chief who wears the black robe. Yes, I have done what the medicine creatures told me to do.”
Running Fox removed the black pelt with great care, and fastened it to his belt. Then they continued toward the river. As they neared the water they climbed to the top of a hardwood ridge to reconnoiter. They knew that they were almost at the end of the Delaware hunting grounds, and the thought made them cautious.
“Pretty soon we will enter the country of our enemies,” said Running Fox. “Many of our people have been killed in that country. We must be very watchful.”
“We will be as sharp as Woakus, the fox,” replied Spotted Deer.
They were able to see a long way up and down the river from the top of the ridge, and they studied the water with great care. However, as they failed to discover anything to arouse their suspicions, they soon resumed their way into the north. The day was more than half gone when Running Fox suddenly stopped, and pointed to a high rocky cliff on the opposite side of the river, and then to a massive dead pine directly ahead of them.
“Do you see that high rocky place over there?” he inquired, turning to Spotted Deer.
“Yes, I see it,” replied Spotted Deer.
“Do you see that big tree ahead of us?”
“Yes, I see it.”
“Well, we have reached the beginning of the great Iroquois hunting grounds,” declared Running Fox. “It begins over there on that side where you see those rocks, and it begins on this side where you see that big tree ahead of us. Do you know anything about those rocks?”
“No, I do not know about them,” replied Spotted Deer.
“Well, I will tell you about something that happened there,” said Running Fox. “I will tell it just as my father told it to me. Our people call that place Laktschellan, which means the-jumping-over-place. Now I will tell you how it got that name. A long time ago a Delaware hunter was chased up on those rocks by some Mohawks. Well, when they saw him up there they began to laugh because they thought he could not get away. Pretty soon they heard him calling down to them. He told them that he was going to jump down into the water. Well, when they heard that they began to laugh some more, because they thought he would surely be killed. Then some of the Mohawks began to climb up the rocks. When the Delaware saw them coming he gave a loud shout and jumped away from the rocks. He made a great noise when he fell into the water, and a white cloud flew high up into the air. Well, the Mohawks began to watch the water. They watched a long time, but he never appeared. Then they thought he was dead. Some of them began to jump into the water to find his body. Well, while they were doing that the Delaware was hiding in the bushes a little way off. He was laughing about how he had fooled the Mohawks. He waited there until the Mohawks got tired and went away. Then he ran to the Delaware camp, and told what he had done. The name of that brave man was Striking Hawk, and he lived a very long time ago.”
“That is a good thing to know about,” declared Spotted Deer. “Whenever I pass that place I will always think about that brave hunter.”
A few moments afterwards the lads entered the hunting grounds of their foes. The real war-journey had actually begun. The thought thrilled them. Still they were serious and thoughtful. They knew that many foes lurked in the vast wilderness which they were about to explore, and they realized the difficulty of avoiding them. Besides the Mohawks there were several other tribes of the great Iroquois nation who wandered into that country to hunt and fish with their tribesmen. These visitors were mostly Oneidas and Onondagas, whose villages were comparatively near the Mohawks, but the fierce Cayugas and the still fiercer Senecas occasionally came from the lakes and mountains far away toward the setting sun. Then there were also the Shawnees, who frequently ventured into the Iroquois country in large numbers. Such an array of enemies might have made the most courageous warrior hesitate about entering that perilous region, and the young Delawares knew that they must keep constantly alert to their danger if they hoped to escape.
The lads continued along the river until near the end of the day, and then they turned deeper into the forest to find a safe hiding place in which to spend the night. They were making their way carefully over a rocky piece of ground covered with blueberry bushes, when they heard a loud buzzing sound close beside them.
“Hi, that is Wischalowe, the Frightener,” cried Running Fox.
They recognized the sound as the angry buzzing of a rattlesnake. It seemed to be in a dense thicket of blueberry bushes, The lads realized that they must approach it with caution, for they knew that its bite was very deadly. Running Fox picked up several stones, and advanced carefully into the thicket. When he came near the sound he stopped and looked for the snake. At last he saw it several bow-lengths ahead of him. It was coiled to strike.
“Hi, Wischalowe, I have found you,” cried Running Fox. “You look very ugly. Yes, you are called ‘The Frightener.’ Well, I am not afraid of you. Your war-cry does not frighten me. I have killed some of your people. Now I am going to kill you. But I am going to give you a chance to fight. Come, let me see how brave you are.”
Running Fox advanced directly toward the angry snake. He parted the bushes carefully with his bow, and walked almost within bow-length. Then he stopped, and continued to taunt Wischalowe. However, the rattlesnake made no attempt to strike, and Running Fox tossed one of the stones within a hand-breadth of it. The snake instantly lowered its head and flattened its body against the ground—it was evidently about to strike. Running Fox advanced a step nearer, and the snake uncoiled two-thirds of its body and struck at him. He saw the ugly open mouth and the deadly fangs as he sprang aside.
“Well, Wischalowe, you are very slow, like an old man,” laughed Running Fox. “Yes, I see that you are very mad about it. You are making a great noise. Perhaps it would frighten the women and children. Is that how you got your name? Well, Wischalowe, this will be your last song. Now I am going to kill you.”
However, as Running Fox threw the rock the snake struck, and he missed it. Then to his surprise the snake partially coiled and struck again. It was an unexpected maneuver, and the reckless young Delaware barely escaped. He struck savagely with his bow, and hit the reptile a stunning blow behind the head. Before it recovered he stooped and crushed it with his war-club. Then he cut the string of bony scales, or rattles, from, the end of its tail.
“Well, that was an easy fight,” laughed Running Fox, as he rejoined Spotted Deer. “Wischalowe tried to frighten us, and now I have killed him.”
“Wisehalowe was foolish,” replied Spotted Deer.
At the end of the day they stopped for the night beside a splendid little woodland spring, in the midst of a wonderful forest of towering hemlocks. The trees were so large and stood so close together that perpetual twilight reigned beneath them. Night came swiftly after sunset in that dense stand of timber, and the lads missed the cheery glow of the little camp-fire, for they believed that it would be foolhardy to run the risk of lighting it. They sat close together in the darkness, therefore, conversing in low, guarded tones and listening anxiously at the slightest sound. However, the great wilderness was unusually still, and they heard only the night wind whispering softly in the tree-tops.
“Schawanachen, the warm wind, is singing the sleep song,” said Running Fox.
“It is a pretty song,” replied Spotted Deer. “Come, we will pile up some of this long grass, and let Schawanachen sing us to sleep.”
They gathered several armfuls of the long feathery ferns that grew in great abundance at that spot, and made couches of them. Then they wrapped themselves in their robes and lay down to sleep.
“Perhaps it would be a good thing for one of us to watch,” suggested Running Fox.
“No, I do not believe we are in any danger here,” said Spotted Deer. “We have not seen or heard anything to trouble us.”
“That is true,” agreed Running Fox. “Well, we will not do anything about it.”
They had not been long asleep when Running Fox awakened with a feeling that all was not well. He raised himself cautiously upon his elbow, and spent many moments looking and listening for signs of danger. Spotted Deer was slumbering soundly, and Running Fox determined not to awaken him unless he discovered something to verify his uneasiness.
“This is a strange thing,” Running Fox whispered to himself. “I do not see anything, and I do not hear anything, but I feel something wrong. I believe we are in some kind of danger. Well, I will watch.”
For a long time, however, he found no reason for his suspicions. Still the peculiar premonition of danger persisted. It troubled him. He believed it was a warning from Getanittowit, and yet he did not know how to interpret it. Then he thought he heard something moving through the ferns. He held his breath to listen, but the silence was unbroken. At last, convinced that his fears were groundless, Running Fox again lay down to sleep. He had barely closed his eyes, however, when he was roused by the same stealthy sound in the ferns.
“Now I know that something is wrong,” Running Fox told himself.
As he sat up and stared anxiously into the night he again heard the gentle rustling of the ferns. For a moment he wondered if it might not be the wind. All was still, however, and even the murmurs in the tree-tops had died away. Running Fox felt that he was being watched. A few moments later his suspicions were verified, as a pair of glowing eyes shone from the darkness. Aware that they were threatened by some savage prowler of the wilderness, Running Fox leaned over and touched Spotted Deer.
“Do not make any noise,” cautioned Running Fox, as Spotted Deer awakened.
“What has happened?” Spotted Deer inquired, anxiously.
“I do not know what it is, but something is watching us,” declared Running Fox. “Yes, I heard it, and I saw its eyes.”
“Perhaps the wolves have followed us,” whispered Spotted Deer.
“No, it is something different,” replied Running Fox. “Listen.”
They heard something circling softly about them through the ferns. Then they caught the momentary flash of a pair of eyes. The next instant they vanished, and a twig snapped somewhere within bow-shot.
“I believe it is Timmeu, the wolf,” declared Spotted Deer. “Perhaps he has come back to fight us.”
“No, it is not Timmeu,” replied Running Fox. “The eyes are different, and this thing moves slower.”
They heard a low growl, like that of an angry dog. Then they again saw the weird shining eyes watching them.
“Perhaps some Evil Spirit lives in this place,” Spotted Deer suggested, uneasily.
“No, I do not believe it,” Running Fox assured him. “I believe it is Quenischquney, the panther. Yes, it is the sound I heard in my dream. Now I will tell you what to do. I will shoot my arrow. Then if Quenisehquney jumps in to fight you must send your arrow into him. By that time I will be ready with another arrow.”
“I am ready,” said Spotted Deer. “See, there are his eyes. He sounds mad.”
Running Fox discharged his arrow. They heard it strike, and then a terrifying scream rang through the night. A moment later a long dark form crouched before them. They heard the tail swishing rapidly among the ferns, and read a warning in the flashing eyes.
“Do something!” cried Running Fox, as he prepared another arrow.
Spotted Deer had hesitated an instant too long, and as he released his bow-string the panther sprang. It missed him by less than a bow-length, and disappeared into the night. They heard it coughing and snarling, and thrashing about in the ferns. Then it suddenly became quiet.
“It is dead,” said Spotted Deer.
“Perhaps,” replied Running Fox. “Quenischquney is very cute, we must be careful.”
They watched anxiously, but the eyes failed to appear. Then, as the silence continued, Running Fox began to grow uneasy. He feared that the panther might have sneaked away, and the possibility made him reckless.
“I do not like this,” he told Spotted Deer. “Perhaps, as you say, Quenischquney is dead. But perhaps he has sneaked away. That would be very bad. I must follow him and kill him. Yes, I must take his claws, and wear them as the mysterious Medicine Creatures told me to do. If I do not obey them something bad may happen to us. Now I am going over there to find out if Quenischquney is dead.”
“That is a very dangerous thing to do,” protested Spotted Deer.
“Well, I cannot help it,” replied Running Fox. “I must not let Quenischquney get away.”
“I will go with you,” proposed Spotted Deer.
They waited some moments, watching and listening for a clue to the whereabouts of the wounded panther. Then, as the baffling silence continued, they advanced cautiously toward the place where they had last seen the glare of its eyes. They went forward very slowly, about a bow-length apart. It was very dark, and they realized that they must depend more upon their ears than their eyes to warn them of danger. After every third or fourth stride, therefore, they stopped to listen, while they peered anxiously on all sides of them for a tell-tale flash of those ugly green eyes. However, they neither heard or saw anything of the animal they sought.
“I believe that fierce Quenischquney is dead,” declared Spotted Deer.
“We must not be too sure,” Running Fox warned him.
He had barely finished speaking when they heard a warning growl directly ahead of them. They stopped and watched for a chance to shoot their arrows. The growling continued, and they heard the ferns rustling, but they were unable to locate the panther. They knew it was close to them, but for some reason they were unable to discover its eyes. For a moment they were puzzled. Then Running Fox guessed the truth.
“I know how it is,” he whispered, excitedly. “Quenischquney is crouching down in the high grass. I believe he is getting ready to jump.”
“Shall I send an arrow over there where we hear him?” asked Spotted Deer.
Quenischquney himself answered the question, for at that very instant he made his spring, and bore Spotted Deer to the ground. Running Fox saw a long black shadow pass before him, heard a short angry snarl, and then the quick startled voice of Spotted Deer. For an instant the suddenness of the attack bewildered him. He hesitated a moment to recover his wits, and then as Spotted Deer called to him he sprang to his assistance.
“O Running Fox! Running Fox!” screamed Spotted Deer.
“Use your knife!” cried Running Fox.
The next instant he was upon the panther. He plunged his flint knife deep behind the shoulder.
Then, as the infuriated beast turned upon him, he drove an arrow into its body. Quenischquney leaped, but crashed to the ground within a bow-length. For some moments he thrashed wildly about in the ferns, coughing and snarling furiously. Then he became still. The lads approached cautiously, and saw him lying quietly upon his side. Running Fox drove another arrow into him, but he failed to move. Then they went up to him, and saw that he was dead.
“Did Quenischquney do much harm to you?” Running Fox asked Spotted Deer. “Come over here and let me look at you.”
“No, Quenischquney did not harm me,” Spotted Deer replied, bravely. “I felt his claws, but I stuck my knife into his throat, and he could not bite me. Yes, I am bloody, but most of it came from Quenischquney. It is a good thing you were with me. If I had been alone I might have been killed.”
Running Fox saw that Spotted Deer had escaped without serious injury. He had a number of painful gashes on his arms and the upper part of his body, but Running Fox hurried him to the spring and soon stopped the bleeding by soaking small pieces of sphagnum moss in the cold water and inserting it in the wounds.
“Well, you will have some marks on your body to tell about when we get back to our people,” laughed Running Fox.
“I will tell them how you killed Quenischquney,” replied Spotted Deer.
As Spotted Deer declared that he felt little pain from his injuries, they returned to the dead panther and cut off the claws. Then they sang medicine-songs, and danced about the body of Quenischquney until well along toward the middle of the night.
“Now we will stop,” Running Fox said, finally, “It will soon be light. Come, we will go back and lie down again.”
“Yes, we can sleep easy, fierce Quenischquney will not trouble us now,” replied Spotted Deer.
The Delawares had not gone far the following day before they came upon an inviting eddy in the river, and as the day was unusually warm they determined to loiter for a swim. The water was cool and refreshing, and they splashed about in great delight. Spotted Deer especially enjoyed it, for the cold water felt very soothing to the burning gashes he had received from the panther. In spite of their frolicking, however, the lads kept a sharp watch for foes. They soon saw the necessity of it, as Running Fox suddenly looked up the river and discovered something which caused them to scramble frantically to the shore.
A bark canoe had suddenly appeared around a bend of the river, and was drifting slowly toward them. The lads watched it with great uneasiness. It appeared to be unoccupied and abandoned. Still the suspicious Delawares feared a trap. “Perhaps some one is lying down inside of it,” suggested Spotted Deer.
“Well, we will soon be able to find out about that,” replied Running Fox.
They studied the approaching canoe with great attention, but were unable to tell to what tribe it belonged. Running Fox had been well trained in the art of observing, and his sharp eyes soon told him enough to quiet his fears.
“See, it sits high in the water,” he told Spotted Deer. “If any one was inside it would be low down and heavy.”
“Yes, that is true,” agreed Spotted Deer. “But some one may be swimming on the other side of it.”
“No, I do not believe it,” said Running Fox. “It does not tremble, and it leaves no trail.”
Satisfied, therefore, that the mysterious canoe was deserted, the Delawares wondered how they might gain possession of it without exposing themselves to discovery. They feared that crafty foes might be watching from ambush, and they hesitated to show themselves.
“See, it is moving toward land,” Running Fox whispered, excitedly.
A short distance below them a narrow gravelly beach reached far out into the water, and they noticed that the canoe was drifting directly toward it. They watched eagerly until the canoe finally struck upon the projecting point of land. Then, as the canoe swung slowly about with the current, they realized that they must act quickly to secure it.
“I will go out and catch it,” said Running Fox.
He skulked through the bushes as cautiously as a fox. When he reached the spot where the canoe had struck he stopped to search the river for foes. Then he saw the canoe swinging stern foremost down the river. He realized that in another moment it would be beyond his reach. Throwing caution to the winds, Running Fox rushed boldly into the water and seized the prize. As he had guessed, it was unoccupied. As he drew it toward him it left a tell-tale mark in the gravel. However, he made no attempt to erase it, for he hoped that any one following on the trail would find it and be deceived. It made it appear that, having lodged for a time at that spot, the canoe had finally floated free and drifted down the river.
Once in actual possession of the canoe, Running Fox signaled for Spotted Deer to join him. They waded with the prize until they found a safe hiding place, and then they dragged it into the bushes. They had found a long hickory bow and a buckskin quiver filled with arrows in the bottom of the canoe.
“This is very strange,” said Running Fox, as he examined the weapons.
The lads saw at once that they were different in pattern from their own, and they had little doubt that they were of Iroquois design. Still they were not sure. They stared at them in amazement. The whole affair was a great mystery. They would have given much to know how far the canoe had come, and how the weapons happened to be in it.
“Whoever left these things in that canoe was very foolish,” said Spotted Deer.
“Well, I see that he kept the paddle,” replied Running Fox.
“That is true, I did not see that,” said Spotted Deer.
At first the Delawares were inclined to keep the weapons, and hide the canoe in the woods until they returned down the river on their way to the Delaware camp. It would have been a splendid trophy, and they dreaded to lose it, but Running Fox finally decided to set it adrift.
“This canoe has floated away, and some one will come down here looking for it,” he said. “If they do not find it, they will become suspicious. Perhaps they will look for our trail. We have a long journey to make, and we are in great danger. We will not take any chances. Come, we will keep the weapons, and give up the canoe.”
“You are the leader, I will do as you say,” Spotted Deer said, resignedly. “But if some one comes after this canoe they will miss the weapons.”
“We will fool them about that,” laughed Running Fox.
They carried the canoe to the water, and as they set it adrift Running Fox overturned it with his foot. Spotted Deer laughed as he saw the reason for the wily bit of stratagem which would make the owner of the canoe believe that his weapons were somewhere at the bottom of the river. They watched until the canoe floated slowly from sight around a bend of the shore.
“Now we must hide, and watch to see who comes after it,” said Running Fox.
They concealed themselves in the bushes, and began to watch the river. All day they remained there, as alert and patient as a lynx waiting for prey. Nothing escaped them. Their eyes caught every movement, their ears heard every sound.
“I do not believe any one will come,” said Spotted Deer, after they had watched a long time in vain.
“We must wait,” Running Fox told him.
Then, toward the end of the day, their patience was rewarded. They saw a second canoe coming swiftly down the river. They saw at once that it was similar in pattern to the one that had preceded it. It was guided by two sturdy paddlers, whom the lads recognized even at a distance as Mohawk warriors. It was not the first time that the young Delawares had seen those fierce fighters, for several had been captured and brought to the village by Delaware scouts. Now, however, they looked upon them with different emotions. The lads felt their hearts pounding wildly against their ribs as the Mohawks approached, but they had concealed themselves with great care and they had little fear of being discovered. At any rate there was no chance to retreat.
“We must keep very quiet,” cautioned Running Fox.
The Mohawks kept to the middle of the river, while they watched the shore for signs of the missing canoe. As they passed, the lads studied them closely. The warrior in the stern of the canoe was a powerful middle-aged man of threatening appearance, but his companion looked more youthful and pleasing of countenance. They turned the canoe toward the beach, and the Delawares wondered whether they would discover the mark in the gravel. They were not long left in doubt, for they saw the younger warrior pointing toward the spot, and talking excitedly to his companion. The latter seemed suspicious. It was apparent that he was watching the shore. Then he said something, and they moved slowly toward the beach. They spent some time studying the mark in the gravel, and the Delawares watched them in painful suspense. They wondered whether the crafty Mohawks would really be deceived by the stratagem of Running Fox. However, they soon saw that it had been successful, for the paddlers pushed out into the current and disappeared down the river.
“We have fooled those warriors,” laughed Running Fox.
“I could have sent an arrow into them,” said Spotted Deer.
“That would have been very foolish,” Running Fox told him. “Perhaps you would not have killed them, and they would have gone back and told their people what had happened. No, we are in a dangerous country, and we must not let them know about us. If they see us it will be hard to get near their camp. The fox does not jump at the bear when he steals to his lodge for meat.”
“That is true,” agreed Spotted Deer. “Well, I will be very cautious.”
“Pretty soon those warriors will come back,” said Running Fox. “We must watch sharp.”
As the evening shadows were settling upon the forest the Mohawks returned with the missing canoe. They passed close to the shore, and the Delawares had a splendid view of them. They saw that the faces of the canoemen were streaked with black.
“Those warriors are painted for war,” said Running Fox, after the paddlers had passed from hearing.
“Yes, I saw the black marks across their faces,” replied Spotted Deer. “Who are they going to fight?”
“I do not know,” Running Fox declared, uneasily. “We must find out. Perhaps they are getting ready to fight our people. We will follow them.”
They waited until they felt sure that the Mohawks were a safe distance ahead of them, and then they left their hiding place, and followed cautiously up the river. They soon came in sight of the canoes, and trailed them until darkness finally blotted them from sight. Then the Delawares were puzzled. They had expected the Mohawks to stop at the end of the day. The fact that they still continued their journey made the lads believe that they were either in a great hurry, or else were making toward some familiar camp-site near at hand. The latter possibility induced the Delawares to follow on the trail. They hurried along within sound of the water, straining their eyes to catch the warning flicker of a camp-fire. However, as the night wore on, and they failed to get any trace of the mysterious canoemen, the Delawares began to realize that they were exhausting themselves in vain.
“It is foolish to keep going,” declared Running Fox. “Perhaps those warriors will not stop before it gets light. Perhaps they will stop, but if they do not make a fire we cannot find them. They are painted for war. Warriors on the war-trail do not make fires. If we try to go ahead, we may pass them. That would make things bad for us. I believe the best thing to do is to stop until it gets light.”
“Yes, I believe it will be the best thing to do,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They turned from the river, and reconnoitered carefully through the grim black wilderness in search of a safe stopping place for the night. They finally found suitable shelter in a thick stand of pines on the summit of a rocky knoll directly above the river.
“This is a good place,” said Running Fox. “When it gets light we will be able to see a long ways along the water. Perhaps we will find the Mohawks.”
They determined to keep a sharp watch until daylight, for they feared that their foes might be nearer than they supposed. It was agreed that one should remain on guard while the other slept. Spotted Deer said that he would take the first watch. He had not been long on guard when he heard the weird serenade of Gokhos, the owl. Acting upon the impulse of the moment he placed his hands to his mouth, and gave a perfect imitation of the call. Running Fox sprang up at the sound.
“What was that?” he inquired, anxiously.
“I am talking with Gokhos,” laughed Spotted Deer.
“You are very foolish,” said Running Fox, as his eyes flashed angrily. “Warriors do not cry out like children when there are enemies about to hear. Perhaps what you heard was a signal. I have heard my father tell how the Mohawks use the voice of Gokhos to call one another. You have done a bad thing.”
Spotted Deer accepted the rebuke in silence. He suddenly realized the peril of his act. It filled him with shame. He could offer no excuse.
“Running Fox, I see that I have done a very foolish thing,” he said. “I did not think about it. Now I see that it may get us into trouble. I feel very bad.”
“We will not talk any more about it,” said Running Fox.
They listened anxiously, and in a few moments they heard the call of Gokhos again echoing through the forest. It seemed to come from farther up the river. The notes sounded perfectly natural, but Running Fox was suspicious.
“I believe it is Gokhos,” said Spotted Deer.
“Perhaps,” replied Running Fox.
A short time afterward the cry was repeated nearer at hand, and Running Fox looked at Spotted Deer and smiled.
“Perhaps Gokhos is coming to talk with you,” he said. “I believe it will be better to move away.”
As they retreated cautiously into the night, the weird, mocking cry again came to them through the darkness. Running Fox strained his ears to find a flaw in it, but it sounded genuine. Still he was distrustful.
“Well, perhaps it is only Gokhos,” he told Spotted Deer, “I do not hear anything wrong with it, but I do not feel right about it. We have seen the Mohawks. They were painted for war. We are in their country. We must not be too bold.”
As he finished speaking they were surprised to hear Gokhos calling from somewhere down the river. For a moment it allayed their suspicions, for they realized that only Gokhos himself could have moved so rapidly. Then they heard the other cry farther to the northward, and their fears were strengthened.
“Now I believe it is the Mohawks calling one another,” declared Running Fox. “We will stay here, and watch until it gets light.”
At daylight the lads continued along the ridge upon which they had spent the night, until they found a spot which offered them a long, unobstructed view of the river. Then they settled themselves to watch for their foes. The mysterious owl calls on the previous night had convinced them that some of the Mohawks were still down the river, and they hoped before long to see them. They waited patiently until half of the day had passed, but no one appeared.
“Perhaps they are moving through the woods on foot,” suggested Spotted Deer.
“Perhaps,” replied Running Fox. “We have watched a long time, but we have not seen any one. I believe the Mohawks have passed some other way. Come, we will go ahead.”
They advanced through the forest with great caution, for they knew that they might come face to face with their foes at any moment. Watchful, and alert to their peril, therefore, the lads took every precaution. Nothing escaped their notice. They stopped suspiciously each time the wind stirred the leaves; they strained their ears to catch a warning in the most familiar sound. The fact that the Mohawk canoemen were painted for war suggested the possibility of a large war-party somewhere near at hand. The Delawares knew that under those circumstances many sharp-eyed scouts were roaming through the woods on all sides of them.
Toward the end of the day the lads heard a wild turkey calling. It seemed to be somewhere on a ridge to the eastward, and they stopped to listen. It was a common sound in the woods about the Delaware camp, and under other circumstances they would have given little attention to it. However, with the owl calls fresh in their minds, the Delawares immediately became suspicious. Running Fox placed his finger across his lips, and looked warningly at Spotted Deer.
“I will keep as still as Achpoques, the wood mouse,” laughed Spotted Deer, as he recalled his blunder with the owl calls.
They listened some time before the call was repeated, and then they were unable to discover anything suspicious about it. Nevertheless they determined to wait until they heard it again. The next time, however, Running Fox thought he detected an unfamiliar note. He had hunted wild turkeys since he was old enough to pull a bowstring, and he was an expert at imitating their call.
“I do not like that,” he told Spotted Deer. “No, I do not believe it is Gulukochsun.”
“Well, we will listen again,” said Spotted Deer. “I did not hear anything wrong about it.”
However, as the familiar gobble again rolled through the woods Running Fox was compelled to acknowledge that he found it entirely natural. Still he was not satisfied.
“This is not the time when Gulukochsun sounds his war-cry,” he declared, suspiciously.
“I have been thinking about that,” replied Spotted Deer.
Then as they continued to listen they heard an answer. It sounded as if it came from the opposite side of the river. The lads looked at each other and nodded significantly. When they heard the call a second time they detected several strange notes that proclaimed it false. They felt certain that it came from a human throat.
“Perhaps some hunter is trying to draw Gulukochsun over there,” suggested Spotted Deer.
“No, I do not believe it,” said Running Fox. “A hunter would come over here to find Gulukochsun.”
“Yes, that is true,” agreed Spotted Deer.
The counterfeit call was soon answered, and then the gobbling ceased. The lads were filled with suspicion. They began to mistrust that both calls were false. They believed that Iroquois scouts were again exchanging signals.
“Perhaps these are the same people who talked with the words of Gokhos,” said Spotted Deer.
“Yes, that may be true,” replied Running Fox. “Well, I believe they are going to meet down there at the water. We will steal down there and have a look at them.”
“That will be a dangerous thing; to do,” said Spotted Deer.
“Yes, we must be very careful,” Running Fox told him.
Then they began a daring advance toward the river. They believed that the scout whom they had heard first was still somewhere behind them, and they hoped to reach the river ahead of him, They moved swiftly, therefore, watching and listening for the first warning of danger. When they finally got within easy bow-shot of the water they concealed themselves in a dense thicket of willows. Then they watched anxiously for their enemies to appear. It was not long before they again heard the turkey call on the other side of the river. A few moments after it had ceased, an answering gobble sounded from the woods directly back of them. It was so perfect that if they had heard it under any other circumstances they would have been entirely deceived.
“Now watch sharp,” cautioned Running Fox.
At that instant they saw a solitary warrior moving swiftly along in the shadow of the trees on the opposite shore. In a few moments he dragged a canoe from the bushes, and paddled rapidly across the river. He had barely landed before another warrior passed noiselessly within several bow-lengths of the concealed Delawares, and joined him at the edge of the water.
“They are Mohawks,” whispered Running Fox.
Spotted Deer was about to reply when one of the warriors suddenly turned and looked directly toward their hiding place. The lads felt quite sure that they had been discovered, and their hearts bounded wildly at the thought. Still it seemed impossible for the low whisper from Running Fox to have reached the figures at the edge of the water. However, after a moment or so the warrior had again turned to his companion, and the lads breathed easier. Then they heard a bird stirring about noisily in the undergrowth, and they understood why the warrior had looked toward their hiding place. They instantly realized the danger that threatened them, for both warriors were now looking intently toward the willows. The Delawares feared that in another moment their suspicious foes might decide to investigate the sound. Discovery seemed near at hand. They realized that they must do something to quiet the fears of their enemies. There was not a moment to spare. The lads looked anxiously into each other’s eyes. Then the bird resumed its noisy search for food. One of the warriors prepared to send an arrow into the willows. At that moment Running Fox discovered the bird scratching among the leaves. The bird saw him at almost the same instant, and as he moved cautiously it sounded an alarm and flew above the bushes. The Mohawk laughed and lowered his bow. The danger had passed.
Spotted Deer started to say something, but Running Fox placed his finger across his lips and warned him to be still. Their narrow escape had made him doubly cautious, and he feared that the lightest whisper might reach the sensitive ears of those alert scouts. They were conversing earnestly, and although they talked in guarded tones the lads distinctly heard the low unintelligible hum of their voices. They listened eagerly for they would have given much to know what was being said. However, the Mohawks were talking too cautiously to give them a clue. Besides, the Delawares doubted that they would have understood the Iroquois dialect even if they had heard it. Once the warrior who had crossed the river swept his arm toward the west, and the lads believed that he was describing something of importance which he had discovered in that direction. The Delawares studied the two men closely. They saw at once that they were not the warriors whom they had seen the previous day. These Mohawks were both great stalwart men in the prime of life. Their faces, too, were painted black in token of war. It was evident that they were scouts searching the forest for signs of their foes. In a few moments they entered the canoe, and poled it rapidly up the river.
“Come, we must follow them,” declared Running Fox. “I believe the Mohawks are gathering a great war-party. We must find out where they are.”
Once the canoemen had disappeared around a long wooded arm of the shore, the Delawares left the willows, and hurried through the woods in pursuit of them. They kept a safe distance from the water for they feared that the crafty Mohawks might suddenly return on their trail to make sure that no one was following them. The lads had a vague idea that they were nearing the headwaters of the river, and they began to look for several prominent landmarks which had been described to them. Toward evening they saw the first of them, a great granite-topped mountain on the opposite side of the river. They had often heard it mentioned by the Delaware scouts, and they realized that they were close to the great Mohawk trail, which began at the headwaters of the river and extended many leagues into the north. They also knew that the Shawnees entered that region from the westward, and their trails, too, were to be found somewhere in the vast forest beyond the river. The young Delawares realized, therefore, that each stride was taking them into more perilous ground, and they advanced with great care.
As the long evening shadows finally began to reach out over the water, the Delawares feared that their foes were again about to escape under cover of the darkness. The possibility made them more daring, and they hurried along closer to the river. They had not gone far, however, when they discovered the Mohawks moving slowly along near the shore. Just before dark they landed, and dragged the canoe into the shadows.
“I believe they will stay at that place until it gets light,” said Running Fox.
“We will watch for their fire,” said Spotted Deer.
“They will not light a fire,” declared Running Fox. “Now I will tell you what to do. It would be foolish to go any nearer to them, before it gets light. We will stay where we are. When the light comes I will tell you something else.”
“Well, you are the leader,” replied Spotted Deer. “I will listen to your words.”
When it grew dark they crawled beneath the drooping branches of a large spruce. Then as the night wore on, and they heard nothing from their foes, they stole silently to the river. All was black, and still, and mysterious, and they were glad to return to their hiding place beneath the spruce.
As the first gray hint of dawn appeared in the east Running Fox awakened Spotted Deer, and led the way to the river. They waded carefully into the water and swam to the opposite shore. Then they stole silently through the woods until they were opposite their enemies. Dropping to their hands and knees, they crawled into the fringe of bushes that lined the water. Then, as the light strengthened, and they peered eagerly between the branches, they saw three overturned canoes dimly outlined in the shadows on the other side of the river.
“That is strange,” whispered Spotted Deer.
“The Mohawks have found one another,” said Running Fox.
A short time afterward they saw a lone figure at the edge of the forest. They felt certain it was one of the Mohawk scouts. He stood in the shadows watching the river. Then he hastened across the narrow beach, and dropped at the edge of the water to drink. As he rose he looked across the river, and the lads thought they recognized him.
“He is one of the warriors who found the canoe,” said Spotted Deer.
“Yes, now I see what has happened,” replied Running Fox. “When we heard the calls of Gokhos, then that warrior and his friend were talking with the warriors we followed here. Now they are all together. Pretty soon they will meet the war-party.”
The Mohawk had already returned to the woods, and the lads watched anxiously. Then they saw four figures gather about the canoes. They had little difficulty in identifying them as the four scouts whom they had seen previously. The Delawares were somewhat puzzled, however, when the Mohawks carried two canoes to the water, and left the third lying at the edge of the woods. Then three of the warriors entered the two canoes and paddled up the river. The fourth Mohawk, whom the lads recognized as the younger of the two who had searched for the canoe, remained behind. He stood some moments looking after his companions, and when they passed from sight he turned up the beach and disappeared into the forest.
“I believe the Mohawks have found some signs of the Shawnees,” declared Running Fox. “They have left that warrior to watch. It is bad. Now we cannot follow them. We must wait and see what he is going to do.”
“Perhaps he will wait there until the war-party appears,” said Spotted Deer.
The possibility disturbed them, for they knew in that event they would be in a serious predicament. It was a long time before their suspense was ended. Then the Mohawk carried his canoe to the water, and disappeared down the river. The Delawares had not expected that maneuver, and they were unable to guess a reason for it.
“Perhaps the Mohawks have found the Shawnees, and that warrior has gone to watch them,” suggested Spotted Deer.
“Perhaps,” replied Running Fox. “I do not like it. Perhaps there are more Mohawks behind us. Yes, the war-party may be moving the other way.”
The thought alarmed them. As soon as the solitary warrior had passed from sight, therefore, the Delawares hurried up the river on the trail of his companions. When half of the day had passed they reached the headwaters of the river. They had failed to overtake the Mohawks, and they were somewhat at a loss to know just what to do.
“It is bad,” declared Running Fox. “We have come to a dangerous place. We have lost sight of the Mohawks. We must be very careful until we find their trail.”
“Perhaps they are watching this place,” said Spotted Deer.
“Well, we will creep around as softly as Quenischquney, the panther,” replied Running Fox.
They scouted cautiously about the headwaters of the river until they found a narrow trail leading toward the north. When they stooped and examined it they found evidence which convinced them that some one had passed over it that very day. They had little doubt that it was the three Mohawks whom they had followed up the river.
“Perhaps this is the trail that leads to the great Mohawk camp,” said Spotted Deer.
“No, my father told me different,” declared Running Fox. “This trail leads to a big lake. Beyond that there are no trails. It will be hard to find the Mohawk camp.”
They were moving carefully along the trail when they were halted by the sound of voices directly ahead of them. It was evident that the speakers were almost upon them, and the startled lads darted into the bushes and dropped to the ground. In a few moments they saw two of the Mohawk canoemen returning along the trail. They were walking slowly and looking intently at the ground. It looked as if they had dropped something, and had come back to find it. The Delawares were on the verge of panic, for they believed that the sharp-eyed scouts would be almost sure to discover their trail. However, when the Mohawks passed by within bow-length of them the lads took hope. When they had gone from hearing, Running Fox sprang to his feet and called upon Spotted Deer to follow him.
“Come, we must fool those warriors, and get a good start,” he said.
They ran directly along the trail, being careful to leave plenty of tracks. They had not gone far, however, before they heard the shrill cry of Nianque, the lynx, ringing through the woods behind them.
“That is a danger signal,” Running Fox declared, excitedly. “Those warriors have found our trail. Now we must run far back into the woods and hide.”
They turned from the trail, and sped through the forest like frightened deer. Then the lynx cry again sounded from the trail, and in a few moments they heard it answered from the north. They knew that the warriors who had discovered their trail had warned their comrade, and they believed that they would soon be pursued.