A STRANGER
No boy could feel more chagrin and humiliation than did Otto
Relstaub, when he sprang forward, and, seizing what he supposed to
be the stray colt, found instead that he had grasped the stump of a
tree.
He was speechless for a full minute, and could only stand still and
wonder how it was possible for him to make such a blunder. A tree
close to the edge of the clearing had been stricken by lightning,
and partly breaking off some three or four feet above ground, a
couple of yards of length lay with the top on the earth. In the
gloom of the evening it could be readily mistaken for a different
object, though Otto might well wonder where the resemblance to a
horse could be figured out. But for the neigh which reached the
ears of the young pioneers, they never would have made the mistake.
Still the fact remained that a short time before a horse was within
call, and Otto was quite sure it was the one he was seeking. Night,
however, had fully descended, and it was useless to hunt further
before the morrow.
"Dot ish too bad," he said to himself, "but ishn't I glad dot Jack
didn't come up and sees me, for he vould laugh till he went dead--mine
gracious!"
It seemed indeed as if the youth had arrived in a strange latitude,
for while he remained communing with himself, he caught the
unmistakable odor of tobacco-smoke in the air. Some one was smoking
a pipe whose fumes were too rank to permit any mistake on his part.
The discovery was startling enough to cause a shiver of fear, for it
was manifest he was close to a stranger, since Jack Carleton did not
use the noxious weed in any form. Otto bitterly reproached himself
for leaving his rifle beyond reach, for his was the situation of the
individual who may not have needed such a weapon often, but when he
did, he wanted it with an emphasis beyond question.
"Dis ish de spot where I doesn't vant to be," was his truthful
conclusion, "so I dinks I goes somewhere else."
He felt a strong yearning to break into a run, but dared not do so.
Though filled with fear, his right policy was to conceal all
evidence of it. He therefore turned about with the purpose of
walking off with a dignified air; but he had taken only the first
step, when a shock like that from an electric battery went through
him, caused by the single exclamation:
"Oof!"
It was the hail of an Indian. Otto was riveted to the spot by the
sight of a brawny savage striding toward him. He came from the
darkness of the wood, and, when he moved into the clearing, was just
in time to catch the first beams of the moon rising above the
forest.
The warrior was large, and his size was magnified by the blanket,
which, wrapped like a shawl about him, reached below his knees. The
long, black hair dangling around his shoulders, was ornamented at
the crown by a number of eagle feathers; but the countenance, when
shown by the moonlight, was devoid of paint, which, it may be said,
was not needed to add to its ugliness.
His forehead was low and broad, the eyes small, black and restless,
while the cheek-bones were not only protuberant, but were unusually
far apart. Instead of the aquiline nose, which is so often a
feature of the American Indian, his was as broad as that of the
African, badly disfigured by a scar across the bridge, probably made
by a knife or tomahawk.
When it is stated that his mouth was wider than that of Otto, enough
has been said on that score. In one corner, the warrior held a pipe
made of red clay, whose stem was a foot in length. He must have
stood placidly puffing this during the entire time the boy was
stealing upon the supposed horse. In the increasing moonlight, the
strong vapor rose in blue puffs from both sides of his face and
poisoned the air above and around him.
The position of the Indian was such that the blanket covered both
arms, and Otto could not see whether or not he grasped a rifle
beneath.
The entire manner of the red man showed that he knew he was master
of the situation. He could not have felt otherwise, when he saw a
partly grown boy standing before him, without any firearms with
which to defend himself.
"Howdy, brudder?" he asked, in a gruff, guttural voice, extending
his huge hand to Otto, who dared not refuse it.
"I isb--ish--dot be--ish well," stammered the poor fellow, vainly
trying to speak in a steady voice.
The Indian gave a fervency to his grip of Otto's fingers which made
him wince with pain, though he dared utter no protest.
The act of the warrior in advancing and saluting, caused his blanket
to open in front, so as to disclose an untidy sash around his waist.
The view was not clear, as the rays of the moon came over his
shoulder, but the lad saw enough to satisfy him that the Indian
carried a tomahawk and hunting-knife. However, as the other hand
removed the pipe from between the leathern lips and held it, there
was no instant intention of using either weapon.
It is only justice to the young German to say that, had he possessed
his gun, he would not have permitted the Indian to take his hand.
He knew the treacherous character of the race too well to give them
the least advantage; but his belief was that the best, and indeed
the only thing to do, was to avoid, so far as he could, giving any
offence to his captor.
"Ven he don't be looking at me," was Otto's thought, "then I gives
him the slip, and runs and gots mine gun, and shoots him afore heban
do nodings."
The programme was a good one, provided it could be carried out, but
it cannot be admitted that it offered much chance of success. Otto
was never fleet of foot, and as his rifle was fully a hundred yards
distant, there was no way of recovering it except by permission of
the red man.
"Where brudder's home?" was the query, as he allowed the hand of the
lad to fall from his grasp.
Otto felt authorized to answer that question at least truthfully.
"Good ways from dish place--a way off yonder."
The boy meant to locate his home correctly, but when he pointed
toward the north, he unconsciously made a great error. However, it
was unimportant.
The Indian slowly shoved the stem of the pipe in the comer of his
immense mouth, sent out several pungent puffs towards the face of
Otto, who, accustomed as he was to the sickening odor of his
father's tobacco, was forced to recoil a step and cough the
strangling vapor from him.
Then the warrior solemnly turned his head and looked behind in the
gloomy depths of the wood, as though he expected to see the home of
the boy. It isn't necessary to say that, if such was his
expectation, he was disappointed.
When Otto observed the face of his dreaded captor turned away, he
was thrilled by the sudden belief that the chance for which he had
been praying had come at last. This was his time to make a sudden
dash, regain his gun, and become master of the situation.
Was it possible? Beyond question, it was literally life or death
with the lad. The red man would pursue and show him no mercy. If
Otto failed to reach his rifle in time, a second trial would never
be given him.
Absurd! he saw there was not an earthly chance of success; he could
only wait and hope.
Failing to discern the log cabin in which Otto made his home, the
Indian turned back his head, swinging it as on a pivot, so that the
end of the pipe-stem, which, for the moment, he had been holding
stationary in his hand, resumed its former place in the comer of his
mouth.
"Where brudder's gun?"
"I--I don't not have him mit me," was the awkward reply of Otto,
nervously anxious to escape saying anything which would give his
captor a clue to his property.
The warrior did not press the question, as he might easily have
done, but he smoked his pipe another minute in dignified silence,
while Otto stood trembling and wondering how many more breathe he
would be permitted to draw before the savage would leap upon him
with upraised knife.
"Brudder go with Osage chief--he big warrior--oof!"
This was the first announcement the Indian made of his tribe, and
the declaration that he was a chief astonished Otto Relstaub, who
held no suspicion that he was in the presence of such a dignitary.
But he had been commanded to go with him, and the youth could only
await more pointed instructions. The Osage motioned him to turn
about and he did so, hopeful that his captor meant to drive him
across the clearing toward the spot he and Jack Carleton had fixed
upon for their camp. If such was the intention of the chief, it
would be extremely favorable to the lad, but, unfortunately, the
opposite course was the one fixed upon.
While Otto's face was away from his master, the latter stalked
around in his front, where, taking the pipe from his dusky lips, he
repeated his order, by means of gesture.
"I vonder if he don't make a top mit me," muttered Otto; "vy don't
he tie von string round me and spin me dot way?"
But the boy was not in a situation to refuse, and, when ordered to
walk, he did so. While seeking to obey the Osage, Otto unwittingly
turned too far to the right.
"Oof! Dog!" grunted the Indian, catching him by the shoulder and
wrenching him part way around; "go--go--go!"
The lad was startled, for the grip was of that violent nature that
it pained him severely. It effectually dissipated his purpose of
making a break for liberty, at least until a much more promising
opening presented itself.
He began timidly feeling his way through the darkness, dreading
every moment that he would take a misstep, that would bring down the
anger of the Indian in a more dangerous form than before. He was
enveloped in gloom, so that he kept both hands extended in front to
protect his face.
"I goes as right as I can," he observed, seeking to avert the wrath
of the terrible being that was at his heels: "when I doesn't goes
right dot ish, 'cause I goes wrong--mine gracious!"
It was only a twig which just then collided with his eye. It
inflicted no injury, and he still pushed forward as obediently as if
it was his father who was driving him. The Indian said nothing, but
he rustled the leaves with his moccasins, as if to prevent the lad
forgetting his presence.
Here and there the arrowy moonlight pierced the foliage and afforded
Otto a glimpse of his surroundings, but most of the time the gloom
was so dense as to be absolutely impenetrable. Passing across a
dimly-lit space, he could not avoid turning his head and looking
back at the Osage chief as he stepped into the feeble light.
The figure of the Indian was striking. He was striding slowly
along, as if impressed with his own importance, his arms folded
beneath the blanket in front, so as to hold it together and keep
them out of sight. His teeth were still closed on the red
pipe-stem, and the blue puffs passed over his head as if it were
steam which was working the machinery of his legs.
The thought which constantly remained with Otto Relstaub, and which
caused him the keenest suffering, was that the Indian was likely at
any moment to leap upon him with uplifted knife. It is a characteristic
of the American race that its representatives often add to the distress
of their captives by toying with them as a cat does with a mouse before
crunching it in its jaws.
The lad was almost certain his captor meant to slay him, after first
torturing him in this manner, but the poor boy could see no possible
way in which to help himself. If the savage should spring upon him,
it would be like the leap of the panther-quick, crushing, and
resistless in its fury.
With a faint hope that he might be able to do something for himself
when the worst should come, Otto stealthily drew out his hunting-knife,
and held it tightly grasped. One thing was certain, that, weak and
almost helpless as he was, he would not submit without making a good
fight for himself.