“It seems the devil himself is helping them imps!” remarked Haldidge as
they landed.
“But I trust Heaven is aiding us,” added Haverland.
“Heaven will if we help ourselves, and now as I’m in this scrape I’m
bound to see the end. Look for trail.”
“It’s poor work I’m thinking we’ll make, groping in this moonlight,”
said Graham.
“While there’s life there’s hope. Scatter ’long the bank, and search
every foot of land. I’ll run up stream a ways as I’ve an idea they
landed not fur off.”
The hunter disappeared with these words, and Graham and Haverland,
commenced their work in an opposite direction. The branches overhanging
the water were carefully lifted up, and the muddy shore examined; the
suspicious bending or parting of the undergrowth was followed by the
minutest scrutiny, and although the heavy darkness was against them,
yet it would have required a most guarded trail to have escaped their
vision. But their efforts were useless; no trail was detected; and
convinced that the savages must have landed upon the opposite side,
they turned to retrace their steps. As they did so, a low whistle from
the hunter reached their ears.
“What does that mean?” asked Graham.
“He has discovered something. Let us hasten.”
“What is it, Haldidge?” asked Haverland as they reached the hunter.
“Here’s their tracks as sure as I’m a sinner, and it’s my private opine
they ain’t fur off neither.”
“Shall we wait until daylight before we undertake to follow it?”
“I am much afraid we shall have to, as there may be signs which we
might miss in this darkness. Day can’t be far off.”
“Several hours yet.”
“Well, we will make ourselves comfortable until then.”
With these words the trio seated themselves upon the earth, and kept up
a low conversation until morning. As soon as the faint light appeared,
they detected the Indian canoe a short distance up the bank, secreted
beneath a heavy, overhanging mass of undergrowth. As it was during the
summer season, their pursuit was continued at an early hour, so the
savages could have had but a few hours start at the most. With Ina
they could not proceed very rapidly, and our friends were sanguine of
overtaking them ere the day closed.
The only apprehension the pursuers felt, was that the three savages,
fully conscious now that their enemies were upon their trail, might
hasten to rejoin the main body, and thus cut off all hope. They could
not be many miles apart, and must have made some preparation for this
contingency.
The trail to the hunter’s eye was distinct and easily followed. He took
the lead, striding rapidly forward, while Haverland and Graham were
continually on the look-out for danger. Haverland was somewhat fearful
that the savages, finding they could not avoid being overtaken, would
halt and form an ambush into which the hunter would blindly lead them.
The latter, however, although he appeared culpably rash and heedless,
understood Indian tactics better; he knew no halt would be made until
the savages were compelled to do so.
“Ah!--see here!” exclaimed Haldidge, suddenly pausing.
“What’s the trouble?” queried Graham, stepping hastily forward with
Haverland.
“Their camping ground, that is all.”
Before them were more visible signs of the trail than they had yet
witnessed. A heap of ashes were upon the ground; and, as Haverland
kicked them apart, he discovered the embers still red and glowing.
Sticks were broken and scattered around, and all the varied evidences
of an Indian camp were to be seen.
“How long ago was this place vacated?” asked Graham.
“Not three hours.”
“We must be close upon them.”
“Rather, yes.”
“Let us hasten forward then.”
“You see by these coals that they didn’t start until daylight; and as
that gal of yourn, Haverland, can’t travel very fast, of course they’ve
had to take their time.”
“Very true; although disappointment has attended us thus far, I
begin to feel a little of my natural hope return. I trust that this
opportunity will not escape us.”
“Ah! more signs yet,” exclaimed Graham, who had been examining the
ground for several yards around.
“What now?”
“That’s a piece of her dress is it not?”
And he held up small, fluttering rag in his hands. The father eagerly
took it, and examined it.
“Yes; that is Ina’s; I hope no violence has placed it in our hands,”
and several involuntary tears coursed down his cheek at the allusion.
“I’m thinking she left it there on purpose to guide us,” remarked
Graham.
“Shouldn’t wonder at all,” added Haldidge.
“She must have seen us, of course, and has done all she could to guide
us.”
“Very probable; but it strikes me rather forcibly that we are gaining
nothing in particular by remaining here. Remember the savages are
_going_ all the time.”
Thus admonished, the three set rapidly forward again, the hunter taking
the lead as before. The pursuit was kept up without halting until near
noon. Conscious that they were rapidly gaining upon the fugitives, it
was necessary to proceed with the extremest caution. The breaking of a
twig, the falling of a leaf, startled and arrested their steps, and not
a word was exchanged except in the most careful whisper. Haldidge was
some dozen yards in advance, and the eyes of his companions were upon
him, when they saw him suddenly pause and raise his hand as a signal
for them to halt. They did so, and stooping downward, he commenced
examining the leaves before him. A moment sufficed. He turned and
motioned his two companions forward.
“Just as I feared,” he moodily exclaimed in a half whisper.
“What’s the matter?” asked Haverland anxiously.
“_The two trails join here_,” he answered.
“Are you not mistaken?” asked Haverland, knowing that he was not, and
yet catching at the faintest hope held out to him.
“No, sir; there’s no mistake. Instead of three Indians, we’ve got over
forty to follow up now.”
“Shall we do it?”
“Shall we do it? of course we shall; it’s the only chance of ever
getting a sight of Ina again.”
“I know so, and yet the hope is so faint; they must know we are in
pursuit, and what can we do against ten times our number?”
“No telling yet; come, strike ahead again.”
With these words, the hunter turned and plunged deeper into the forest.
Graham and Haverland silently followed, and, in a few moments, the
three were proceeding as carefully and silently as before through the
dense wood.
As yet our friends had partaken of nothing, and began to experience the
pangs of hunger; but, of course, in the present instance these were
disregarded. Somewhere near the middle of the afternoon, they came
upon another spot where the savages had halted. Here, if Haverland and
Graham had any lingering doubts of what the hunter had said, they were
soon removed. It was plain that a large Indian party had halted upon
this spot but a few hours before, and it was equally evident that they
had taken no pains to conceal the traces they had made. If they had any
suspicions of pursuit, they had no apprehensions of the consequences,
as they were well aware of the disparity between the two forces, and
scorned the whites.
This was gratifying on the other hand to the hunter. He knew well
enough that as matters stood at present, he could hope for nothing
except through his own cunning and stratagem; and, for this reason, it
was very probable the Indians were satisfied no attempt would be made.
They did not take into consideration the fact that there was an enemy
in their camp.
Considerable remains of the meal were discovered, and served to satisfy
the wants of our friends for the present. The early time in the
afternoon showed them that thus far they had gained quite rapidly upon
the savages. It was the earnest wish of the three that they should come
up to the Indian party by nightfall; but this expectation was doomed
to a sudden disappointment; for in a few hours they reached a point
where the trail _divided again_.
This was unaccountable even to the hunter, and for a few moments our
friends stood perfectly nonplussed. They had not looked for this, and
had not the slightest reason of it.
“This beats all creation!” remarked Haldidge, as he again examined the
trail.
“Depend upon it there is something meant in this,” observed Haverland
with an air of deep concern.
“It is some stratagem of the imps which we must understand before going
further.”
“They must entertain different ideas of us from what we thought. You
may safely believe that this is some plan to mislead us, and if there
is ever a time when our wits shall be demanded it has now come.”
During this fragmentary conversation, the hunter was minutely examining
the trail. Graham and Haverland watched him a few seconds in silence,
when the latter asked:
“Do you make any thing of it?”
“Nothing more. The trail divides here; the main body proceeds onward
in a direct line, while the minor trail leads off to the west. The
division must have been very unequal, for as near as I can judge the
smaller party does not number over three or four at the most. No
efforts have been made to conceal their traces, and there is either a
deep laid scheme afloat, or they don’t care a fig for us.”
“Very probably both,” remarked Graham. “They care enough for us to
take good care to remain out of our reach, when they do not possess
advantages over us, and have already shown their skill in not only
laying but in executing schemes.”
“If we could only give that Seth Jones an inkling of our whereabouts
and intentions, I should feel pretty sanguine again,” said Haverland.
“Very likely if that Jones could give us an inkling of his whereabouts
and experiences, you would lose a little of that expectation,” rejoined
the hunter with a meaning emphasis and look.
“But this is a waste of time and words,” said Graham, “let us lay our
heads together and decide at once what is to be done. As for me, I’m in
favor of following the smaller party.”
“What give you that idea?” asked Haverland.
“I confess that I cannot give much reason for the notion, but somehow
or other it has struck me that Ina is with the smaller party.”
“Hardly probable,” returned Haverland.
“It don’t seem so, I allow,” remarked the hunter; “but queerly enough
the same notion has got into my head.”
“Of course you can then give some reason.”
“I can give what appears to have a show of reason to me. I have been
doing a big amount of thinking for the last few minutes, and have
almost reached a conclusion. I believe that the gal is with the smaller
party, and it is the wish of the savages that we shall follow the main
body. We will thus be drawn into ambush, and all further trouble from
us will be removed.”
“It seems hardly probable that the savages would run such a risk of
losing their captive when there is no occasion for it,” remarked
Haverland.
“It don’t seem probable, but it ain’t the first thing they’ve done
(providing of course they’ve done it), that would make you open your
eyes. I believe these Mohawks are certain we won’t suspect they’ve let
the gal go off with two or three of their number when there were enough
to watch her and keep her out the hands of a dozen such as we are.
Feeling certain of this, I say they have let her go; and being sure
also that we’ll tramp on after them, they have made arrangements some
distance away from here to dispose of us.”
“Sound reasoning, I admit, but here’s something to offer upon the other
side,” said Graham producing another fluttering rag from a bush.
“How is that upon the other side of the question?” queried the hunter.
“If you will notice the bush from which I took this, you will see it is
upon the trail of the larger party, and consequently Ina must have been
with that party to have left it there.”
“Just show me the exact twig from which you took it,” quietly asked
Haldidge. Graham led the way a few yards off and showed him the spot.
The hunter stooped and carefully examined the bush.
“I’m now satisfied,” said he, “that I was right. That rag was left
there by a savage for the express purpose of misleading us. We must
seek Ina in another direction.”
“Haldidge,” said Haverland earnestly, “I place great reliance upon
your skill and judgment, but it strikes me at this moment that you are
acting capriciously against reason.”
“There’s but one way to decide it; will you agree to it?” asked the
hunter smilingly. The other two expressed their willingness, and he
produced his hunting knife. For fear that some of our readers may
be apprehensive of the use to which he intended putting it, we will
describe his _modus operandi_ at once. Stepping back a pace or two, the
hunter took the point of his knife between his thumb and fore finger,
and flung it over his head. As it fell to the earth again, the point
was turned _directly toward the trail of the lesser party_.
“Just what I thought,” remarked the hunter with another quiet smile.
The mooted question was now settled to the satisfaction of all, and our
three friends turned unhesitatingly to the westward upon the trail of
the smaller party.
How much sometimes hangs upon the slightest thread! How small is
the point upon which great events often turn! The simple fact of
the direction in which the blade of the hunting knife remained when
it fell, decided the fate of every character in this life drama.
Had it pointed to the northward, an hour later the three would have
walked into an ambush intended for them, and every one would have
been massacred. The hunter was right. Ina Haverland had gone with the
smaller party.