Part 8 (1/2)
”It is not wolves, or bears either,” said Louis, as soon as he could get breath to speak; ”but the Indians are all on Bare Hill, holding a war-council, I suppose, for there are several canoe-loads of them.”
”How came you to see them?”
”I must tell you that when I parted from you and Cathy, instead of going down to my raft, as I thought at first I would do, I followed the deer-path through the little ravine, and then ascending the side of the valley, I crossed the birch grove, and kept down the slope within sight of the creek. While I was looking out upon the lake, and thinking how pretty the islands were, rising so green from the blue water, I was surprised by seeing several dark spots dotting the lake.
At first, you may be sure, I thought they must be a herd of deer, only they kept too far apart, so I sat down on a log to watch, thinking if they turned out to be deer I would race off for you and Wolfe, and the bows and arrows, that we might try our chance for some venison; but as the black specks came nearer and nearer, I perceived they were canoes with Indians in them, three in each. One made for the mouth of the creek, and ran ash.o.r.e among the thick bushes, while the others kept further along the sh.o.r.e. I watched them with a beating heart, and lay down flat, lest they should spy me out; for those fellows have eyes like catamounts, so keen and wild--they see everything without seeming to cast a glance on it. After closely examining what I suppose was one of our footmarks, I saw them wind up the ridge till they reached the Bare Hill. [Footnote: Supposed to be a council-hill. It is known by the name of Bare Hill, from the singular want of verdure on its surface, It is one of the steepest on the ridge above the little creek; being a picturesque object, with its fine pine-trees, seen from Mr. Hayward's grounds, and forms, I believe, a part of his property.]
You remember that spot; we called it so from its barren appearance. In a few minutes a column of smoke rose and curled among the pine-trees, and then another and another, till I counted five fires burning brightly; and, as I stood on the high ground, I could distinguish the figures of many naked savages moving about, running to and fro like a parcel of black ants on a cedar log; and by-and-by I heard them raise a yell like a pack of ravenous wolves on a deer track. It made my heart leap up in my breast. I forgot all the schemes that had just got into my wise head of slipping quietly down and taking off one of the empty birch canoes, which you must own would have been a glorious thing for us; but when I heard the noise these wild wretches raised, I darted off, and ran as if the whole set were at my heels. I think I just saved my scalp.” And Louis put his hand to his head, and tugged his thick black curls, as if to ascertain that they were still safe from the scalping-knives of his Indian enemies.
”And now, Hec, what is to be done? We must hide ourselves from the Indians; they will kill us, or take us away with them, if they find us.”
”Let us go home and talk over our plans with Cathy.”
”Yes; for I have heard my father say two heads are better than one, and so three of course must be still better than two.”
”Why,” said Hector, laughing, ”it depends upon the stock of practical wisdom in the heads; for two fools, you know, Louis, will hardly form one rational plan.”
Various were the schemes devised for their security. Hector proposed pulling down the shanty and dispersing the logs, so as to leave no trace of the little dwelling; but to this neither his cousin nor his sister would agree. To pull down the new house that had cost them so much labour, and which had proved such a comfort to them, they could not endure even in idea.
”Let us put out the fire, and hide ourselves in the big ravine below Mount Ararat; dig a cave in one of the hills, and convey our household goods thither.” Such was Louis's plan.
”The ravines would be searched directly,” suggested Hector; ”besides, the Indians know they are famous coverts for deer and game of all sorts: they might chance to pop upon us, and catch us like woodchucks in a burrow.”
”Yes, and burn us,” said Catharine with a shudder. ”I know the path that leads direct to the 'Happy Valley,' (the name she had given to the low flat now known as the 'Lower Race-course'), and it is not far from here, only ten minutes' walk in a straight line. We can conceal ourselves below the steep bank that we descended the other day; and there are several springs of fresh water, and plenty of nuts and berries; and the trees, though few, are so thickly covered with close-spreading branches that touch the very ground that we might hide ourselves from a hundred eyes, were they ever so cunning and prying.”
Catharine's counsel was deemed the most prudent, and the boys immediately busied themselves with hiding under the broken branches of a prostrate tree such articles as they could not conveniently carry away, leaving the rest to chance. With the most valuable they loaded themselves, guided by Catharine, who, with her dear old dog, marched forward along the narrow footpath that had been made by some wild animals, probably deer, in their pa.s.sage from the lake to their feeding-place, or favourite covert, on the low sheltered plain, where, being quite open, and almost, in parts, free from trees, the gra.s.s and herbage was sweeter and more abundant, and the springs of water were fresh and cool.
Catharine cast many a fearful glance through the brushwood as they moved onward, but saw no living thing, excepting a family of chitmunks gaily chasing each other along a fallen branch, and a covey of quails that were feeding quietly on the red berries of the _Mitch.e.l.la repens_, or twinberry, [Footnote: Also partridge-berry and checker-berry, a lovely creeping winter-green, with white fragrant flowers and double scarlet berry.] as it is commonly called, of which the partridges and quails are extremely fond; for Nature with a liberal hand has spread abroad her bounties for the small denizens, furred or feathered, that haunt the Rice Lake and its flowery sh.o.r.es.
After a continued but gentle ascent through the oak opening, they halted at the foot of a majestic pine, and looked round them. It was a lovely spot as any they had seen: from west to east, the lake, bending like a silver crescent, lay between the boundary hills of forest trees; in front, the long lines of undulating wood-covered heights faded away into mist, and blended with the horizon. To the east, a deep and fertile valley lay between the high lands on which they rested and the far ridge of oak hills. From their vantage height they could distinguish the outline of the Bare Hill, made more distinct by its flickering fires and the smoke wreaths that hung like a pearly-tinted robe among the dark pines that grew upon its crest. Not long tarrying did our fugitives make, though perfectly safe from detection by the distance and their shaded position, for many a winding vale and wood-crowned height lay between them and the encampment.
But fear is not subject to the control of reason, and in the present instance it invested the dreaded Indians with superhuman powers of sight and of motion. A few minutes' hasty flight brought our travellers to the brow of a precipitous bank, nearly a hundred feet above the level open plain which they sought. Here, then, they felt comparatively safe: they were out of sight of the camp-fires, the spot they had chosen was open, and flight, in case of the approach of the Indians, not difficult, while hiding-places were easy of access. They found a deep, sheltered hollow in the bank, where two mighty pines had been torn up by the roots, and prostrated headlong down the steep, forming a regular cave, roofed by the earth and fibres that had been uplifted in their fall. Pendent from these roots hung a luxuriant curtain of wild grape-vines and other creepers, which formed a leafy screen, through which the most curious eye could scarcely penetrate.
This friendly vegetable veil seemed as if provided for their concealment, and they carefully abstained from disturbing the pendent foliage, lest they should, by so doing, betray their hiding-place to their enemies. They found plenty of long gra.s.s, and abundance of long soft green moss and ferns near a small grove of poplars which surrounded a spring of fine water. They ate some dried fruit and smoked fish, and drank of the clear spring; and after they had said their evening prayers, they lay down to sleep, Catharine's head pillowed on the neck of her faithful guardian, Wolfe. In the middle of the night a startling sound, as of some heavy body falling, wakened them all simultaneously. The night was so dark they could see nothing, and, terror-stricken, they sat gazing into the impenetrable darkness of their cave, not even daring to speak to each other, hardly even to breathe. Wolfe gave a low grumbling bark, and resumed his couchant posture, as if nothing worthy of his attention was near to cause the disturbance. Catharine trembled and wept, and prayed for safety against the Indians and beasts of prey; and Hector and Louis listened, till they fell fast asleep in spite of their fears. In the morning, it seemed as if they had dreamed some terrible dream, so vague were their recollections of the fright they had had; but the cause was soon perceived. A large stone that had been heaved up with the clay that adhered to the roots and fibres had been loosened, and had fallen on the ground, close to the spot where Catharine lay. So ponderous was the ma.s.s, that had it struck her, death must have been the consequence of the blow; and Hector and Louis beheld it with fear and amazement, while Catharine regarded it as a proof of Divine mercy and protection from Him in whose hand her safety lay. The boys, warned by this accident, carefully removed several large stones from the roof, and tried the safety of the clay walls with a stout staff, to ascertain that all was secure, before they again ventured to sleep beneath this rugged canopy.
CHAPTER V.
”The soul of the wicked desireth evil: his neighbour findeth no favour in his eyes.”--_Proverbs._
For several days they abstained from lighting a fire, lest the smoke should be seen; but this the great height of the bank would have effectually prevented. They suffered much cold at night from the copious dew, which, even on sultry summer evenings, is productive of much chilling. They could not account for the fact that the air at night was much warmer on the high hills than in the low valleys; they were even sensible of a rush of heat as they ascended to the higher ground. These simple children had not been taught that it is the nature of the heated air to ascend, and its place to be supplied by the colder and denser particles. They noticed the effects, but understood nothing of the causes that ruled them.
The following days they procured several partridges, but feared to cook them; however, they plucked them, split them open, and dried the flesh for a future day. A fox or racc.o.o.n, attracted by the smell of the birds, came one night and carried them off, for in the morning they were gone. They saw several herd of deer crossing the plain, and one day Wolfe tracked a wounded doe to a covert under the poplars, near a hidden spring, where she had lain herself down to die in peace, far from the haunts of her fellows. The arrow was in her throat; it was of white flint, and had evidently been sent from an Indian bow. It was almost with fear and trembling that they availed themselves of the venison thus providentially thrown in their way, lest the Indians should track the blood of the doe, and take vengeance on them for appropriating it for their own use. Not having seen anything of the Indians, who seemed to confine themselves to the neighbourhood of the lake, after many days had pa.s.sed they began to take courage, and even ventured to light an evening fire, at which they cooked as much of the venison as would last them for several days, and hung the remaining portions above the smoke to preserve it from injury.
One morning Hector proclaimed his intention of ascending the hills in the direction of the Indian camp. ”I am tired of remaining shut up in this dull place, where we can see nothing but this dead-flat, bounded by those melancholy pines in the distance that seem to shut us in.”
Little did Hector know that beyond that dark ridge of pine hills lay the home of their childhood, and but a few miles of forest intervened to hide it from their sight. Had he known it, how eagerly would his feet have pressed onward in the direction of that dark barrier of evergreens!
Thus is it often in this life: we wander on, sad and perplexed, our path beset with thorns and briers. We cannot see our way clear; doubts and apprehensions a.s.sail us. We know not how near we are to the fulfilment of our wishes; we see only the insurmountable barriers, the dark thickets and thorns of our way; and we know not how near we are to our Father's home, where he is waiting to welcome the wanderers of the flock back to the everlasting home, the fold of the Good Shepherd.
Hector became impatient of the restraint that the dread of the Indians imposed upon his movements; he wanted to see the lake again, and to roam abroad free and uncontrolled.
”After all,” said he, ”we never met with any ill-treatment from the Indians that used to visit us at Cold Springs; we may even find old friends and acquaintances among them.”