CHAPTER XXX
"Oh, Dave! Dave! How glad I am to see you!"
And leaping from among the Indians who surrounded her, little Nell ran to her big cousin and threw herself into his arms. He strained her to his breast, and kissed her several times.
"Isn't it wonderful that we should meet here," he said. "Are you well, Nell?"
"Yes, but the bad Indians have treated me dreadfully, Dave. And it has been so hard on Tom and Artie, too!"
"Where did you come from?"
"Some Indian village a long, long distance away. We have been traveling day and night. They said the English were after us. We had to walk until my feet were sore. Then we got into a canoe."
"They haven't offered to kill you since they captured you, have they?"
"Yes, once. But then they saw the beads that White Buffalo gave me, and instead of killing me they treated me quite kindly. An Indian girl told me they were magic beads, and if I wore them no Indian would kill me, or hurt me."
"Good for White Buffalo, Nell. He is certainly the kind of a friend to have. I suppose he knew the power of the beads among these redskins when he made you a present of them."
"There were three strings of the beads, and I put one on Tom's neck and one on Artie's," added the little miss. "After that the Indians didn't offer to do any of us harm. But what are you doing here?"
"I'm a prisoner."
"Oh, Dave!" Nell's face grew white. "Are they—they—going—to—to——"
"I hope not, Nell. But they are very angry, for we had a fight, and the Indians were badly whipped. That is why they are leaving their villages in the east and coming out here. They are afraid the English soldiers are after them in force."
No more could be said, for the Indians, standing around in curiosity, now caught hold of Dave and forced him back into the wigwam. Nell, and the twins, who had been smiling in silence at the youth, wanted to follow, but the three were hurried off to another wigwam, some distance away.
It would be hard to analyze Dave's feelings when once more alone. He was overjoyed to know that Nell and the twins were alive and well, but it made his heart sink like a lump of lead in his bosom to remember that they were in the clutches of Moon Eye and his followers.
"Perhaps none of us will ever escape," he thought, with a shiver. "They'll torture me to death, and then adopt Nell and the twins, and do their best to turn them into savages!"
That night Dave slept but little. Only one thought was in his mind. How could he escape from the Indians and take Nell and the twins with him?
He realized the difficulty and the danger of such an undertaking. It would be hard enough to get away alone, how then was he to manage it with three young people in addition? He felt that while the Indians might not harm his sister and the little boys, they would not hesitate to shoot him on sight.
"I've got to watch my chances," he reasoned. "Perhaps I can do it some dark night, or when there is a heavy storm going on."
He expected an interview with Moon Eye in the morning, but the chief did not come, for the reason that he had been called away to a council of war. This council lasted two days, and during that time Dave was kept in close confinement, so that he saw nothing further of his cousin or Tom and Artie.
On the evening of the second day Dave looked out of the wigwam and saw that a storm was at hand. The sky was overcast and a stiff breeze was blowing through the forest.
"This may give me a chance to get away," he thought. "Wish I knew where Nell and the twins were."
Two young Indians were guarding the wigwam. Neither was over fifteen years of age. One had a hunting knife and the other an old tomahawk.
Dave was on the point of addressing the young braves when he paused to listen to a sound that came from across the lake. He had heard the sound before, but had paid no attention.
"I don't believe it is possible," he mused. "But it may be. I'll answer and see."
He began to whistle softly to himself and smiled at the young Indians. Then, as if to attract their attention, he gave a loud whistle. Immediately, from beyond the lake, came an answering whistle, in a different note. Then Dave began to whistle his old favorite, "Lucy Locket Lost Her Pocket,"—which was nothing more than the tune we now know as "Yankee Doodle." Again came an answering note—that of a storm bird—but no bird uttered it.
"White Buffalo!" thought the youth, and his heart glowed within him. "I wonder how long he has been on the watch? Perhaps ever since Nell and the twins arrived."
Not to alarm the Indians, Dave continued to whistle to himself, and imitate several birds. The young braves became interested, and one began to whistle in a similar fashion. Then Dave showed him how to whistle on one and on two fingers.
Having made friends of the young Indians, Dave asked them by signs what had become of Nell and the twins. They shrugged their shoulders and pointed to a wigwam at the other end of the village, in front of which an old and dirty squaw was sitting, weaving a basket. The wigwam was not far from the lake, and Dave noted with satisfaction that close at hand rested a canoe with two paddles.
As soon as it began to rain the young captive pretended to be very sleepy, and stretching himself several times, he at length lay down in the wigwam and began to snore. The young Indians, seeing this, called an old Indian to relieve them, and then walked off to their own resting place.
An hour passed slowly for Dave. It was now raining furiously and he knew that the streets of the Indian village must be deserted. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw the aged Indian sitting by the door of the wigwam more than half asleep.
"Now is my time," he thought, and turning over softly, he crept to the side of the shelter, where the wind had loosened one of the skins. In another instant he had rolled out, into the mud and the rain. Making certain that nobody was watching him, he started for the wigwam at the other end of the village.
Little Nell and the twins were sleeping soundly when the girl felt a hand pressed over her mouth. "It's Dave, Nell, don't make any noise," was whispered into her ear, and, inclined to cry out at first, she checked herself.
With the twins it was more difficult, but they soon understood, and while one clung to Dave, the other clutched Nell. Close at hand was the old squaw, but she was sleeping soundly, feeling assured that the youthful prisoners would not dare to venture away in such a storm as was raging.
Hardly daring to breathe, Dave led the way out of the wigwam and down to the lake front. The canoe had considerable water in it, and he had to turn the craft over before he allowed the others to enter. He stowed them safely in the bow and stern, then stepped in himself, took up one of the paddles and shoved off.
"Oh, Dave, can we get away?" whispered Nell.
"Hush! I'll do my best," he answered, softly.
Soon the shore of the lake was left behind. The rain pelted down furiously, wetting them to the skin. Occasionally there came a flash of lightning, followed by a rumble of thunder, which was far from pleasant.
"Tom don't like this," said one of the twins. "Tom wants to go home."
"Perhaps we'll get home some day, if you'll keep quiet and be a good boy," answered Dave.
"Artie wants some syrup bread," said the other twin. "Bad Indians wouldn't give Artie no sugar bread 'tall!"
"You mustn't talk," whispered Nell. "The bad Indians might come after us," and then the twins relapsed into silence once more.
Never had Dave worked at a paddle with greater vigor than now, and on went the canoe at a good rate of speed. It was too dark to see much, but the youth watched for the flashes of lightning and guided his course by them. Once the craft struck a floating log and came near going over. At this Nell and the twins uttered a slight scream.
"Don't worry, we're safe," called out Dave, and the log slid past the canoe.
Five minutes had passed and still no alarm came from the Indian village. Dave was making for the opposite shore of the lake, and now, during a lull in the wind, he uttered a short and loud whistle.
"Why did you do that, Dave?" questioned his cousin.
"It's a signal, Nell. Wait, I don't think I'll tell you any more just yet," he added, as he did not wish to disappoint her, should White Buffalo fail to appear.
No answer came to his whistle, and for a brief instant his heart sank within him. Then he whistled louder than before, and repeated the call several times. At last came back a note that he knew well. It told him that his faithful Indian friend was on the watch for him.
"Did you hear that, Nell?"
"Yes. What was it?"
"It was a signal from White Buffalo. He is waiting to assist us."
"Oh!" cried the little miss, and her voice was full of joy. "Good, dear White Buffalo!"
Dave was now straining his eyes to pierce the darkness. Suddenly a vivid flash of lightning lit up the whole lake. Another flash followed, and then came two rifle shots in rapid succession, and a bullet sang so close to the youth's ear that he dropped his paddle.
"Our escape has been discovered!" he muttered, and picked up the paddle again. "Get down, Nell, and keep the twins down, too."
"Oh, Dave, they may shoot you."
"I'll have to risk it. We are pretty close to shore now," he answered.
Ahead a light was flaring up. It moved in a circle and then up and down and then vanished. It was a signal from White Buffalo. Dave steered the canoe straight for the spot.
"My white brother Dave!" came a cry from the shore, and White Buffalo ran into view and aided in beaching the canoe. "And my little Nell!"
"I'm mighty glad to see you, White Buffalo," said Dave. Nell said nothing but leaped directly into the aged Indian's arms. Then the twins scrambled from the canoe.
"Come this way," said the old Indian chief, and led the way directly into the forest. The canoe was cast adrift, with a branch resting in it, to represent a person in the darkness.
But little was said for the time being. Once in the forest White Buffalo and the whites were joined by eleven Indians, and all took to a trail leading to the southward.
"We must walk hard," said White Buffalo. "They will soon be on the trail. Let me carry you," he added to Nell, and placed her on his shoulder. Dave took up Tom, while one of White Buffalo's followers carried Artie.
Less than quarter of a mile was covered, when White Buffalo stopped short to listen. Then he shook his head doubtfully.
"It is as White Buffalo thought," he said. "They are coming after us fast! We shall have to fight!"