THE FOREST FIEND.
Will Jackwood, whose influence over the old chief had now become great,
at once accosted him.
“The time has come, chief of the Sacs, when you may put forth your hand
and take that which is your own, the band of men who have braved the
power of Napope and his strongest men, and have even baffled my
warriors. They laugh at us in yonder fort; let us teach them what we can
do.”
“My brother speaks good words,” replied the chief. “Let those who have
axes go forward and fell trees about the fort upon every side so that we
may cross the creek. Let others take their guns and protect them.”
A cordon of axmen was quickly formed, about the island, and the great
trees came crashing down, forming bridges over which the great force of
warriors could rush to the attack. The work was quickly done, and then
at the command of the chief four hundred warriors rushed on together,
uttering their fearful war-cries. They broke through the abatis of
tangled limbs unopposed and reached the fort only to find it tenantless.
The white rangers had escaped, how they could not tell, leaving nothing
to show where they had departed, but all knew that it must have been in
the interval of time which elapsed between the last attack on the fort
and the coming of Black-Hawk. Black Will was nearly beside himself with
anger, and a pursuit was at once commenced, when the trail was found.
But, the “scout” had half an hour’s start, and he feared that they would
reach the river before they could be overtaken, and their leader’s
fertile brain would quickly study out some way of crossing the stream.
Although having but little hope, Black-Hawk sent out a hundred of the
best Sac warriors under the command of Ma-she-eschuck, and the pursuit
was pressed with ardor. While this was being done, Jackwood sent Garrett
with five men to find Sadie, and conduct her to a place of safety,
strictly enjoining him to use her well but upon no account to suffer her
to escape.
Dick Garrett hurried his men to the spot where he had left Sadie, and as
he approached it his countenance began to change for he heard nothing of
the men he had left in charge of the girl.
“Hurry up, boys,” he cried; “if they have lost her, I’ll not be the man
to go back to Black Will Jackwood and tell him of it. Ha! Look at that.”
The three men who had been left with Sadie lay upon the earth under the
shadow of the trees. Their faces were upturned to the sky, and it needed
no prophet to tell that they were dead, and the party broke into a run
and reached the spot. Two of them had been shot through the heart,
evidently with pistol balls, and the third had half a dozen knife wounds
upon him, and they saw on every hand evidences of a desperate struggle,
while Sadie was nowhere to be seen. The men paused and looked at each
other in unspeakable dismay, for they knew Jackwood too well to dare
face him, and tell him what had happened.
“He’d kill me!” screamed Garrett. “Look here, boys; we’ve got to find
this girl before we go back, so take the trail at once, and follow.
We’ll have her back, if she is above ground, and avenge these poor
fellows who lie dead. I only wish we had Tom Bantry now; he was the best
scout among us.”
“What made you leave him in the river then?” said one of the men, in a
sullen tone. “He won’t come back no more, Tom won’t, and like enuff
he’ll turn against us.”
“Don’t be mutinous, Tracey,” said Garrett, turning a dark look upon the
speaker. “You know _me_, and you know I never waste words. Be mighty
careful; _I_ would, if I was you.”
The man understood the deadly threat implied in the words of his leader,
and turned away muttering to him self.
“Now Jack Fish,” said Dick, addressing himself to another of the party,
“if Tracey has done growling, you take the trail. ’Tain’t likely that a
young and tender girl can keep away from us long.”
The man addressed came forward, and waving the others back began to
examine the earth to find the imprint of Sadie’s feet. It was not long
before he announced that he had found it, and that it was covered by
another trail, that of a man in moccasins, who was apparently following
her, and from the length of the step he should say they were running.
“That looks as if she was afraid of the critter,” said Garrett. “Who can
it be that is brave enough to attack these men, shoot two and kill the
third with a knife and get off so easily? Now, I’ll tell you what I make
of this, boys. When this man, whoever he is, shot down two of the boys
and rushed in on Davis with the knife, the girl was scared and put out
for the woods. When he had finished Davis—and he didn’t do it easy—he
went after her, and like as not he hasn’t caught her yet. Take the
trail, Jack, but have your weapons handy.”
It was yet early in the afternoon and the trail was plain, as no attempt
had been made to cover it. They went on at a trot, Jack Fish in advance,
closely followed by Garrett and the rest, and the course led them deep
into the woods to the right of the position which had been so nobly held
by Melton’s scout. Sadie was used to exercise in the open air and was
evidently leading her pursuer a desperate chase, using every artifice to
throw him from the trail. Garret was dumbfounded, for he could not
understand why she should fly from one who had slain her enemies, but
they followed the trail, hoping every moment to overtake the man who was
in chase of Sadie. All at once, Jack Fish, who still held the advance,
stopped and lifted his hand, with a low cry.
“See here, Dick, this gal is cute, you bet. She has throwed him off the
trail as sure as shootin’. Thar’s no track but his’n here.”
Dick eagerly inspected the trail and was forced to arrive at the same
conclusion.
“Turn back, then,” he cried. “We will find which way she has gone and
follow. I will take the trail on one side and you on the other and we
will soon pick it up again.”
They had not gone back twenty paces when Jack Fish stopped beside a
clump of thick bushes which grew close to the path, and stooping, looked
under them.
“I’ve found it, boys. She crept under the bushes here and got away from
him; follow me.”
He passed through the bushes, parting them carefully, and upon the other
side found the trail clearly defined and leading at a right angle from
the course they had been following.
“She’s smart,” said Garrett, admiringly. “I don’t know as I blame Will
for liking her, after all. She has beaten this fellow well, and as we
don’t want any thing from him just now, we’ll follow the girl.”
They kept on swiftly, for Jack announced that Sadie was fatigued at this
point and was no longer running. Soon after they reached a place where,
worn out by fatigue, she had seated herself upon a bank and rested for a
little time. From this point the trail became erratic, and she was
evidently wandering up and down seeking for some course out of the
woods, and the night found them still upon the trail and they camped for
the night determined to take the trail again at early morning.
“And we’ll run her to earth before nine o’clock, you mark my words,”
said Garrett. “Lucky for you I am your leader, or you would have gone
back to meet Will Jackwood.”
“Not if I knows it,” said Tracey. “Will Jackwood never sees me again if
we don’t find her in the morning. Now I think of it, where is the Indian
girl?”
“I never thought of her,” said Garrett. “Can it be possible that _she_
killed the men?”
“Oh, bosh; she only had a bow and arrows and it took a strong man to
harness Joel Davis. I’ll be cussed if I understand it at all. Say, Jack,
did you see any thing of the Indian girl’s trail?”
“She went another way from the camp, on a run too. It must have been
some awful looking critter that tackled Joel Davis, to skeer the girls
so.”
“You are right,” said Garrett. “Now then, as Jack has worked hard and we
want him to lead again to-morrow, Tracey will keep camp for two hours
and the rest of you as you can agree, until morning. I’m going to have a
snooze, myself.”
He wrapped himself in a blanket and threw himself down at the foot of a
tree, while the rest in a discontented manner drew lots for the choice
of the hours of watching. After this had been settled the lucky ones
took their blankets and lay down, while Tracey lighted his pipe, moved
out a short distance in the darkness and sat down to watch. The man was
sullen, and had not yet got over his little brush with Garrett upon the
fate of Tom Bantry, and he muttered to himself about the pride of rank
which enabled Garrett to sleep, while he was forced to watch.
They built no fire, for it was a clear summer night and even the
blankets were scarcely needed. Tracey’s pipe glowed through the night,
showing those of his companions who yet slept, where he sat in the
shadow. After a time the man began to doze, and did not see the dark
figure that crawled slowly toward him until it stood erect against the
trunk of the tree against which he was seated. A moment after, a long
arm was stretched out and clutched his throat in so fell a clasp that it
seemed to collapse beneath the pressure, and in a moment more he lay
without a struggle or a groan supine beneath the tree.
The strange being who had done the work, bent over the insensible form
and was busy about something for a short time, and then taking up the
pipe which Tracey had dropped and which had not been extinguished, he
sat down near the body of the fallen renegade and began to smoke, first
picking up the cap of his victim and placing it upon his head, glancing
now and then at the sleeping camp. When the pipe was smoked out he arose
and stole softly to the side of Dick Garrett and looked down into his
face.
The moonlight shone full upon him, and showed a horrible figure of
gigantic mold, covered from head to foot with a hairy substance, while
the eyes looked fiercely from his shaggy eyebrows upon the sleeping
ruffian. His attitude was menacing, and once or twice the right hand
dropped to a hairy girdle about his waist, as if to draw a huge knife
which was suspended there, but upon second thought he seemed to change
his mind, and gathering up the rifles of the party, he carried them a
little distance into the woods, and returned this time to take away the
knives and pistols, most of which were thrown together in a heap, at the
place where the rifles had been stacked. Some of the villains had their
small-arms upon their persons, but these the intruder did not attempt to
touch, and waving his hands triumphantly above his head, he bounded into
the thicket, and was seen no more.
Daylight came and they began to yawn and stretch themselves, those who
ought to have gone upon guard long before, looking mystified at being
allowed to sleep until morning.
“Tracey went to sleep, that’s all,” said Garrett. “Go and kick the
brute, somebody. There is no telling what might have happened through
his cussed carelessness.”
One of the men sprung to the spot where the recumbent figure of Tracey
was seen, and had actually drawn back his foot to kick him, when he saw
that his hands were tightly bound, and a gag thrust into his mouth. His
cry of astonishment awoke the rest, and they quickly surrounded their
fallen comrade, relieved him of the ligatures, and helped him to arise.
The eyes of the man were rolling fearfully, and he gasped for breath.
“Ha!” he said, at last. “A pretty set of fellows you are, to let a man
stay in that way all night. Dunderheads—sleepers—ten thousand curses on
your heads!”
“Steady, Tracey,” said Garrett. “What does this mean?”
“It means you are a lot of lazy thieves, or you would have found this
out four hours ago.”
“Who did it?”
“How do I know? I was sitting there smoking my pipe, when I felt a great
hairy hand upon my throat, and I was choking. Then I lost my senses, and
when I came to myself, I was lying here, anchored to the tree, and
unable to move hand or foot.”
“Why didn’t you sing out?”
“Why didn’t I fly?” retorted Tracey, angrily. “I wouldn’t be a fool if I
were you, Dick Garrett. Oh, curse the hand, whoever it was. Where’s my
rifle?”
The question naturally drew their attention to their own weapons, and as
they noted the loss, curses both loud and deep were vented upon the head
of the being who had done this injury to them. Garrett actually foamed
at the mouth in his anger, and ran in a frantic manner up and down the
camp, cursing Tracey, their unknown enemy, any thing and every thing
under the sun, in no measured terms.
“That’s it,” said Tracey. “Curse your own sleepy heads, and let me
alone.”
“Look for sign, Jack Fish,” said Garrett, turning to their trailer.
“Tell me who has done this?”
“It’s the same man that killed the boys, and then followed Miss Sadie,”
said Jack. “Hyar’s his trail, plain as writing, and I’ll be cussed if it
don’t beat me to tell whether he’s man or beast.”
“He shall not beat me,” hissed Dick Garrett. “Take the trail of the girl
and follow, for we’ll have her now, rifles or no rifles.”
The trailer obeyed without a word, and they started out upon the trail.
But, as they emerged from the woods and entered a great clearing, every
man paused in alarm, for there, just in front, and covering them with
one of their own rifles, while the rest lay at his feet, stood the hairy
monster who had stolen in upon their camp the night before.
“Stop!” he cried, in a hoarse, unnatural voice. “For your lives, stop.
Move hand or foot and you are dead!”
They halted, and stood facing the leveled tube, trembling in every
joint, while the fierce eyes, glancing along the brown barrel, held them
enthralled.