DEERFOOT
When Deerfoot the Shawanoe bade good-by to Jack Carleton and Otto
Relstaub, it was with the declaration that they would soon see each
other again. Precisely what he meant would be hard to say; but
probably it implied that he would take pains in the near future to
make them a visit when they should be settled in their own
log-cabins at home.
He left them, as has been intimated, because he believed there was
no further need of bearing them company, and because business of
great importance to himself demanded that he should take another
course, and travel many long miles toward that wild region in the
southern part of Missouri, which is broken and crossed by the Ozark
range of mountains.
For fully an hour after he turned away from his friends he pushed
through the forest in a south-western direction. He advanced at a
leisurely pace, for there was no call for haste, and he loved to be
alone in the vast solitude, where he often held sweet communion with
the Great Spirit, whom he worshiped and adored with a fervency of
devotion scarcely known except by those who have died for His sake.
The sun had descended but a brief way in the western sky when the
youthful warrior found himself steadily climbing an elevation of
several hundred feet. He had been over the ground before, and he
knew that, after passing the ridge, the surface sloped downward for
many miles, shutting the Mississippi out of sight altogether.
For some time a suspicion had been steadily taking shape in the mind
of Deerfoot, and it was that which led him to hasten his footsteps
until he reached the crest of the elevation, where he paused to make
an investigation.
The thought which ran through his mind was the probability that all
danger from the Miamis and Shawanoes (especially the latter) was not
yet at an end. He reasoned from well established facts; they knew
beyond question that it was he who had outwitted them in his efforts
to save the boys when they were placed in such extreme peril. The
Shawanoes hated him with an intensity beyond description, and,
despite the repeated disasters which had overtaken those who sought,
his ruin, they would strive by every means to revenge themselves
upon him.
What more likely, therefore, than that they had crossed the
Mississippi in pursuit? The certainty that they had done so would
have caused Deerfoot no misgiving, so far as he was concerned, but
his fear was for the boys. He reasoned that the Shawanoes would
follow the trail of the three, including also that of the stray
horse. When they reached the point where Deerfoot left them they
would read its meaning at a glance. They would know the whites were
following the animal, while the Shawanoe had gone about his own
business.
Deprived of his matchless guidance and skill, the destruction of
Jack and Otto would seem so easy that two or three would hasten
after them. The action of their guide would naturally imply that he
had no thought of any such attempt on the part of his enemies, who,
therefore, would be the more strongly tempted to go in quest of his
scalp.
As I have said, Deerfoot could laugh at all such strategy when
directed against himself, but he was uneasy about the others, who
would never think of their danger until too late. Ordinarily they
were not likely to encounter any red men, except the half friendly
Osages, and would be without protection against a stealthy shot from
the woods behind them.
If such an issue threatened, Deerfoot felt that his duty was clear:
he must spare no effort to protect the boys to the last extremity,
and it was the hope that he would be able to catch sight of some
almost invisible sign which would tell the truth that led him to
halt on the crest of the elevation and gaze long and searchingly
toward the Dark and Bloody Ground, which had been the scene of so
many fearful encounters between the pioneers and untamable red men.
The great river was several miles distant, the almost unbroken
forest stretching between. Deerfoot narrowly scrutinized the yellow
surface as far as the eye could follow the winding course, but not
the first evidence of life was to be seen. Not a solitary canoe or
wild animal breasted the swift current which is now laden with
thousands of crafts of almost every description.
The searcher after truth hardly expected to discover anything on the
river itself, for if the Shawanoes were hunting for him they had
crossed long before; but away beyond, in the solemn depths of the
Kentucky wilderness, burned a camp-fire, whose faint smoke could be
traced as it rose above the tree-tops. A careful study of the vapor
led Deerfoot to suspect that it had served as a signal, but it was
beyond his ken to determine its nature.
There was nothing on the other side of the Mississippi which could
afford the faintest clew, and he began the study of Louisiana, so
far as it was open to his vision. His altitude gave him an extended
survey toward every point of the compass. As it was impossible that
any of his enemies should be to the west of him, he did not bestow
so much as a glance in that direction.
Again and again the keen eyes roved over the space between him and
the great stream, but nothing rewarded the visual search. It was
not to be expected that if the Shawanoes were stealing along his
trail they would stop to build a fire--at least not before night
closed in. The only circumstances under which they would attempt
anything of the kind would be in the event of their wishing to
signal some message to those left on the other shore. Possibly they
wanted reinforcements, or wished those who were in waiting to make
some movement of their own, and, if so they would be sure to
telegraph.
If such was the case, the telegrams had been sent and the
instrument--that is, the camp-fire had been destroyed. Nothing of
the sort was now to be seen.
But Deerfoot did discover something to the northward. A long
distance away could be detected another column of vapor--slight, but
dark, and with a wavy, shuddering motion, such as is observed when
the first smoke from the fire under an engine rises through the
tall, brick chimney.
He watched it fixedly for several minute and then smiled, for he
rightly interpreted its meaning.
"There is the wigwam of the Osage chief, Wish-o-wa-tum, the
Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, who lives alone with his family in the
woods, and smokes his pipe. He cares not for Miami or Huron or
Shawanoe, but smokes in peace."
Inasmuch, as no other vapor met the eye, the sagacious Shawanoe
adopted a very different line of investigation, or rather research.
He was able to tell where the lesser elevation stood, on which he
had bidden good-by to the boys, and could form a tolerably correct
idea of the line he had followed since then.
If the Shawanoes were pushing the search for him, several must be
somewhere along that line. Most of the time they would be effectually
hidden from sight by the foliage of the trees, but there were open
places here and there (very slight in extent), where they would be
visible for the moment to one who fixed his eyes on that particular
spot. On the site of the encampment, where the little party had
eaten their meal, and where not the slightest ember remained, the
pursuers would halt for a brief consultation. If they divided into
two companies of pursuit, it was there the division had taken or
would take place.
Unfortunately the vegetation was so abundant just there, that he
could not hope to catch sight of any of his enemies, until after
they should reach a point a considerable distance away. It would
therefore seem impossible for him to tell whether a portion of the
war party turned to the northward in quest of the boys, or whether
they all concentrated in the search for Deerfoot himself.
It would appear beyond his power, I say, for the extraordinary youth
to settle the question, while standing carefully hidden behind the
trunk of a tree, but a single slight chance presented itself, and to
that he appealed.
He knew the general direction of the horse's trail after it had left
the spot where Deerfoot parted company with his friends. Unless it
turned abruptly to the right or left, it led across an open space,
which was in plain view of the Shawanoe, and provided the crossing
had not already been made, he would be able to observe it.
He therefore watched this opening with a keenness which would permit
nothing to elude it. His brain had handled the problem with the
certainty of intuition. Following a process of reasoning which
cannot be fully explained, he convinced himself that the redskins
had not yet fled across the narrow space. Whether they were to do
so or not would be determined in a brief while.
If the savages hunting Jack and Otto had gone beyond the point
named, before Deerfoot fixed his attention on it, then it followed
of necessity that those who were so eager to suspend the scalp of
the youth from the ridge-pole of their wigwams were at that moment
close upon him. In any event, he was morally certain the whole
question would be settled within the coming hour, for, if no sign
appeared, it would be a sign of itself that nothing was to be
feared.
Fully aware of the woodcraft of his own people, Deerfoot threw away
no chances. He kept closely hidden behind the tree which served as
a screen, as though an enemy was in ambush within bowshot.
He waited a briefer time than he anticipated. His eyes were flitting
hither and thither, when a couple of warriors deliberately walked
across the opening on which his attention was fixed. Though only two,
they moved in Indian file, one directly behind the other.
There could be no doubt they were after the scalps of Jack Carleton
and Otto Relstaub.
It was equally certain that a larger number were hunting for Deerfoot.
The fact would not have caused him an additional throb of the pulse,
could he have been assured that no harm, would befall his friends.
True, they had displayed much courage and brilliancy a few hours
before in their contest on the other side of the Mississippi, and
it would seem that, with their training from earliest youth, they
ought to be able to protect themselves against an equal number of
red men. But, reason on the matter as he chose, Deerfoot could not
drive away the feeling that it was his duty to go to their help.
"The Great Spirit wills that Deerfoot shall be the friend of the
white people who are his friends. The Shawanoes and Miamis have no
right on these hunting-grounds," he added, with a dangerous flash of
his black eyes; "if they follow Deerfoot here, he will teach them
they do wrong."
Clearly it would not do for him to take the back trail and retrace
his steps, for that would insure a collision with those who were so
anxious to meet him. Much as he detested them, and little as he
feared the issue of such a meeting, it would be certain to delay his
good offices for those who caused him so much anxiety, and such
delay was dangerous.
His purpose was to "cut across lots," that is, to hasten by the
nearest route to a point which would place him in advance of the
couple that were giving their attention to Jack and Otto, and to
carry out that plan necessitated his making no mistake in his
judgment as to the trail of his friends.
"The warriors will have to walk until the sun goes down," he said to
himself, "before they will come up with them; if they run, or if my
friends have paused to rest, then they will find them sooner.
Deerfoot must not wait, for he is needed."
He had not yet left his place behind the tree, for he was convinced
that some of the Shawanoes were close to him, even though he had
received no proof that such was the fact, but that proof came within
the following few minutes and before he had yet stirred from his
position.