Part 11 (1/2)
”Take off your boots, Harold,” he said as he entered the wood. ”Them heels will leave marks that a redskin could pick up at a run. Now tread, as near as you can, in the exact spot where the Seneca has trodden before you. He'll follow in my track, and you may be sure that I'll choose the hardest bits of ground I can come across. There, the varmints are on sh.o.r.e!”
As he spoke an angry yell rose from the distant village. At a long, steady pace, which taxed to the utmost Harold's powers as a walker, they kept their way through the woods, not pursuing a straight course, but turning, winding, and zigzagging every few minutes.
Harold could not but feel impatient at what seemed to him such a loss of time, especially when a yell from the edge of the wood told that the Indians had traced them thus far--showed, too, that they were far nearer than before. But, as Peter, afterward explained to him, all this turning and winding made it necessary for the Indians to follow every step, as they would an animal, to guess the direction they had taken. The weather had been dry and the ground was hard; therefore the most experienced trapper would be obliged to proceed very slowly on the trail and would frequently be for a time at fault; whereas, had they continued in a straight line, the Indians could have followed at a run, contenting themselves with seeing the trail here and there. They came across two or three little streams running down toward the lake. These they followed, in some cases up, in others down, for a considerable distance, leaving the bed where the bushes grew thick and hid the marks of their feet as they stepped out from the water. Harold would gladly have gone at a run, but Peter never quickened his pace. He knew that the Indians could not pick up the trail at a rate faster than that at which they were going, and that great delay would be caused at each of the little streams, as it would be uncertain whether they had pa.s.sed up or down.
As the time pa.s.sed the Indian yells, which had, when they first entered the wood, sounded so alarmingly near, died away, and a perfect stillness reigned in the forest. It was late in the afternoon before Peter halted.
”We can rest now,” he said. ”It'll be hours before the critters can be here. Now let us have some tea.”
He began to look for some dried sticks. Harold offered to a.s.sist.
”You sit down,” the scout said. ”A nice sort of fire we should get with sticks of your picking up! Why, we should have a smoke that would bring all the Injuns in the woods on to us. No, the sticks as the Seneca and me'll pick up won't give as much smoke as you can put in a teacup; but I wouldn't risk even that if we was nigh the lake, for it might be seen by any redskins out in a canoe. But we are miles back from the lake, and there aint no other open s.p.a.ce where they could get a view over the tree-tops.”
Harold watched the Indian and the scout collecting dry leaves and sticks, and took particular notice, for future use, of the kinds which they selected. A light was struck with a flint and steel, and soon a bright blaze sprang up, without, so far as Harold could see, the slightest smoke being given off. Then the hunter produced some food from his wallet, and a tin pot. He had at the last spring they pa.s.sed filled a skin which hung on his shoulder with water, and this was soon boiling over the fire. A handful of tea was thrown in and the pot removed. Some flour, mixed with water, was placed on a small iron plate, which was put on the red-hot ashes. A few cakes were baked, and with these, the cold venison, and the tea an ample meal was made.
After nearly an hour's halt they again proceeded on their way. A consultation had taken place between Peter and the Seneca as to the best course to be pursued. They could, without much difficulty or risk, have continued the way through the woods beyond the lake, but it was important that they should reach the other side by the evening of the following day, to give warning of the intended attack by the Americans. There were, they knew, other redskins in the woods besides those on their trail, and the nearer they approached the sh.o.r.e the greater the danger. They had determined that they would at all hazards endeavor to obtain another canoe and cross the lake. Until nightfall they continued their course, and then, knowing that their trail could no longer be followed, they made down to the lake. They were many miles distant from it, and Harold was completely worn out when at last he saw a gleam of water through the trees. He was not yet to rest. Entering the lake, they began wading through it at a few feet from the edge.
After an hour's walking thus they entered the bushes, which thickly covered the sh.o.r.e, and made their way through these until they came to a spot sufficiently open for them to lie down; and Harold, wrapping himself in the blanket which he carried over his shoulder, was sound asleep in less than a minute. When he woke the sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly.
”Get up, youngster! We're in luck,” the scout said. ”Here's a canoe with two of the varmints making toward the sh.o.r.e. By the way they're going they'll land not far off.”
The scout led the way, crawling on his hands and knees, to the water's edge, to where the Seneca was sitting watching the canoe through a cover of green leaves. The course that the boat was taking would lead it to a point some three hundred yards from where they were sitting.
”We shall have no difficulty in managing them,” Harold said, and grasped his rifle eagerly.
”Not too fast,” Peter said. ”The chances are that the varmints have friends on sh.o.r.e. Like enough they have been out fis.h.i.+ng.”
The sh.o.r.e formed a slight sweep at this point, and the bushes in which they were hidden occupied the point at one extremity. In the center of the little bay there was a spot clear from bushes; to this the canoe was directed. As it approached the sh.o.r.e two other Indians appeared at the water's edge. One of them asked a question, and in reply a paddler held up a large bunch of fish.
”Just as I thought. Like enough there are a dozen of them there,”
said Peter.
On reaching the sh.o.r.e the men sprang out, taking their fish with them. The canoe was fastened by its head-rope to the bushes, and the Indians moved a short distance inland.
”There is their smoke,” Peter said, indicating a point some thirty feet from the lake, but so slight was it that, even when it was pointed out to him, Harold could hardly make out the light mist rising from among the bushes. Presently he looked round for the Seneca, but the Indian had disappeared.
”He's gone scouting,” Peter said in answer to Harold's question. ”Ef there are only four of them it would be an easy job, but I expect there's more of the red varmints there.”
In ten minutes the Seneca returned as noiselessly as he had gone. He opened his hand and all the fingers twice; the third time he showed only three fingers.
”Thirteen,” Peter said. ”Too many of them even for a sudden onslaught.”
The Indian said a few words to Peter; the latter nodded, and Deer Tail again quietly stole away.
”He's going to steal the boat,” Peter said. ”It's a risky job, for where it lies it can be seen by 'em as they sit. Now, you and me must be ready with our shooting irons to cover him, if need be. Ef he's found out before he gets the boat he'll take to the woods and lead them away from us; but ef he's fairly in the boat, then we must do our best for him. Ef the wust comes to the wust, I reckon we can hold these bushes agin 'em for some time; but in the end I don't disguise from ye, youngster, they'll beat us.”
Harold now sat intently watching the canoe. It seemed an age to him before he saw a hand emerge from the bushes and take hold of the head-rope. The motion given to the canoe was so slight as to be almost imperceptible; it seemed as if it was only drifting gently before the slight breeze which was creeping over the surface of the lake. Half its length had disappeared from the open s.p.a.ce, when an Indian appeared by the edge of the water. He looked at the canoe, looked over the lake, and withdrew again. The hand had disappeared in the bushes on his approach. The movement of the canoe, slight as it was, had caught his eye, but, satisfied that it was caused only by the wind, he had returned to his fire again. The hand appeared again through the bushes, and the canoe was drawn along until hidden from the sight of those sitting by the fire. Again the watchful Indian appeared, but the boat was lying quietly by the bushes at the full length of its head-rope. He stooped down to see that this was securely fastened and again retired. Harold held his breath, expecting that every moment the presence of the Seneca would be discovered. Scarcely had the Indian disappeared than the Seneca crawled out from the bushes. With a sweep of his knife he cut the rope of the canoe and noiselessly entered it, and as he did so gave a shove with his foot, which sent it dancing along the sh.o.r.e toward the spot where Harold and his companion were hidden. Then he seized the paddle, and in half a dozen strokes brought it within reach of them.
Harold and Peter stepped into it; as they did so there was a sudden shout. The Indian had again strolled down to look at the canoe, whose movements, slight as they had been, had appeared suspicious to him.
He now, to his astonishment, saw it at the point with two white men and an Indian on board. He had left his gun behind him and, uttering his war-cry, bounded back for it.
”Round the p'int, quick!” Peter exclaimed. ”They'll riddle us in the open.”