Part 8 (1/2)

Henry lingered a while in the darkest corners, witnessing the feasting, hearing the flutes and the chants, listening for a s.p.a.ce to the story-tellers and the enthusiastic ”Hahs!” They were so full of feasting and merrymaking now that one could almost do as he pleased, and he stole toward the southern end of the village, where he had noticed several huts, much more strongly built than the others. Despite all his natural skill and experience his heart beat very fast when he came to the first.

He was about to achieve the great exploration upon which he had ventured so much. Whether he would find anything at the end of the risk he ran, he was soon to see.

The hut, about seven feet square and as many feet in height, was built strongly of poles, with a small entrance closed by a clapboard door fastened stoutly on the outside with withes. The hut was well in the shadow of tepees, and all were still at the feasting and merrymaking.

He cut the withes with two sweeps of his sharp hunting knife, opened the door, bent his head, stepped in and then closed the door behind him, in order that no Iroquois might see what had happened.

It was not wholly dark in the hut, as there were cracks between the poles, and bars of moonlight entered, falling upon a floor of bark. They revealed also a figure lying full length on one side of the hut. A great pulse of joy leaped up in Henry's throat, and with it was a deep pity, also. The figure was that of s.h.i.+f'less Sol, but he was pale and thin, and his arms and legs were securely bound with thongs of deerskin.

Leaning over, Henry cut the thongs of the s.h.i.+ftless one, but he did not stir. Great forester that s.h.i.+f'less Sol was, and usually so sensitive to the lightest movement, he perceived nothing now, and, had he not found him bound, Henry would have been afraid that he was looking upon his dead comrade. The hands of the s.h.i.+ftless one, when the hands were cut, had fallen limply by his side, and his face looked all the more pallid by contrast with the yellow hair which fell in length about it. But it was his old-time friend, the dauntless s.h.i.+f'less Sol, the last of the five to vanish so mysteriously.

Henry bent down and pulled him by the shoulder. The captive yawned, stretched himself a little, and lay still again with closed eyes.

Henry shook him a second time and more violently. s.h.i.+f'less Sol sat up quickly, and Henry knew that indignation prompted the movement. Sol held his arms and legs stiffly and seemed to be totally unconscious that they were unbound. He cast one glance upward, and in the dim light saw the tall warrior bending over him.

”I'll never do it, Timmendiquas or White Lightning, whichever name you like better!” he exclaimed. ”I won't show you how to surprise the white settlements. You can burn me at the stake or tear me in pieces first.

Now go away and let me sleep.”

He sank back on the bark, and started to close his eyes again. It was then that he noticed for the first time that his hands were unbound.

He held them up before his face, as if they were strange objects wholly unattached to himself, and gazed at them in amazement. He moved his legs and saw that they, too, were unbound. Then he turned his startled gaze upward at the face of the tall warrior who was looking down at him.

s.h.i.+f'less Sol was wholly awake now. Every faculty in him was alive, and he pierced through the Shawnee disguise. He knew who it was. He knew who had come to save him, and he sprang to his feet, exclaiming the one word:

”Henry!”

The hands of the comrades met in the clasp of friends.h.i.+p which only many dangers endured together can give.

”How did you get here?” asked the s.h.i.+ftless one in a whisper.

”I met an Indian in the forest,” replied Henry, ”and well I am now he.”

s.h.i.+f'less Sol laughed under his breath.

”I see,” said he, ”but how did you get through the camp? It's a big one, and the Iroquois are watchful. Timmendiquas is here, too, with his Wyandots.”

”They are having a great feast,” replied Henry, ”and I could go about almost unnoticed. Where are the others, Sol?”

”In the cabins close by.”

”Then we'll get out of this place. Quick! Tie up your hair! In the darkness you can easily pa.s.s for an Indian.”

The s.h.i.+ftless one drew his hair into a scalp lock, and the two slipped from the cabin, closing the door behind them and deftly retying the thongs, in order that the discovery of the escape might occur as late as possible. Then they stood a few moments in the shadow of the hut and listened to the sounds of revelry, the monotone of the story-tellers, and the chant of the singers.

”You don't know which huts they are in, do you?” asked Henry, anxiously.

”No, I don't,” replied the s.h.i.+ftless one.

”Get back!” exclaimed Henry softly. ”Don't you see who's pa.s.sing out there?”

”Braxton Wyatt,” said Sol. ”I'd like to get my hands on that scoundrel.

I've had to stand a lot from him.”