swift-speeding bullet, yet the lad was wise enough to wait until the
bear had advanced far enough to shift the line out of the way. This was
the cause of the brothers thinking that Jack held his aim a long time.
At the instant of firing, however, a slight puff of wind stirred the
leaves and moved the twig, so that the stem bowed again across the path
of the bullet.
The consequence was that the ball was turned just enough out of its
course to wound instead of killing the brute. It chipped its way
through a corner of the skull without making a fatal hurt, though it was
one that roused all the fury of the enormous beast.
Will and George, who were closely watching events, were sure that Jack
had killed Bruin, who reared on his hind legs and swung his paws as if
trying to draw the supposed splinters from his flesh. Then, instead of
toppling over like a small mountain, he made straight for the young man
who he well knew had caused his hurt.
Jack Gedney, like his young friends, was astonished at this proof that
he had made a failure. He stood for a moment, waiting for the royal
game to fall to the ground, but the vigour of the beast told plainly
enough that there was a dangerous amount of life left in him.
Unfortunately, this alarming truth did not break upon Jack until the
beast was on him. He knew better than to try to re-load his gun, but
hastily clubbing it, he swung it back over his shoulder, and brought the
stock down on the head of the bear with the utmost strength he could
command.
It may be said that the blow for one of the boy's years was powerful,
but it did no more harm when it landed on the iron-like skull of Bruin
than if it had been a feather-duster. Instead of striking squarely, it
glanced with such force that the weapon flew twenty feet out of the
hands of the owner.
By this time, as you may well suppose, Will and George discovered the
peril of their friend, and hastened to his rescue; but the seconds
passed fast, and the bear had reared for the purpose of seizing Jack,
whose blow was descending before the brothers brought their own guns to
their shoulders and fired.
They had no time to run closer or to make their aim as effective as they
wished, but they sent both bullets into the big black body that rose in
front of the brave boy. The result was what you can well understand:
Bruin was hit hard, but for a time at least he was as strong as ever,
while his rage was the more intensified.
He reached out both ponderous paws to seize Jack, who, had he been
caught, would have received a hug sufficient to crush all the bones in
his body to a pulp; but with a dexterity and coolness wonderful in one
of his years, he dropped down, so that the paws clasped vacancy over his
head, and, darting to one side, he made a dash to the nearest sapling.
When the animal turned to see what had become of his victim, he observed
him dashing off in a full run. Heavy and clumsy as is the bear, he is
capable of considerable speed, and the one of which I am telling you
dropped upon all fours, swung around, and made after the boy with
astonishing dexterity.
It need not be said that Jack did not let the grass grow under his feet.
Fortunately, indeed, for him that he did not have far to run before he
flung his arms and legs about a small tree, up which he began travelling
with desperate energy.
As it was, his pursuer was so close, that when he reared again, and
reached upward with his paws, his long sharp nails rattled against one
of Jack's shoes. The boy jerked up both feet as though he had felt the
fangs of a rattlesnake, and one more hitch took him beyond reach of the
brute.
*CHAPTER XI.*
*GEORGE MAKES A SHOT.*
The bear found not one, but two boys, who would serve equally well as
substitutes for the one that had just escaped him. Will stood less than
fifty feet away, hastily ramming a bullet into his rifle, while George
was a little farther to the right, busy at the same thing. Bruin
decided that the lad who was the nearer of the two would serve him best,
so he straightway went after him.
No one could hold the hug of a bear in greater dread than did Will
Burton. Had he coolly stood still, and kept on re-loading his gun, it
is likely he would have had it ready to fire before the beast reached
him; but, as the boy expressed it, he was taking no such chances. He
whirled on his heel, and followed the example of Jack, with a suppleness
fully equal to his.
One of the hardest things for a man or boy to do is to climb a tree with
a gun in hand. Much as Will wanted to keep his weapon, so as to use it
when perched above the reach of his enemy, he did not dare to try to do
so. He threw it from him, and even then the pursuit was so close that
he escaped by a chance as narrow as that of Jack himself.
From his perch in the sapling the latter saw all this, which, you must
remember, took place in a very brief time. The two elder boys of the
little company had been treed by a huge bear, and neither of them had
his gun with which to defend himself. It was clear that much now
depended on George, the youngest of the company.
"Don't let him see you," called Jack. "Keep out of sight until your gun
is loaded, and then make your aim sure."
George did not reply, through fear of attracting the notice of the bear,
but he was doing his duty like a hero. During the fracas between Bruin
and Will he had dodged behind the trunk of a tree large enough to screen
his body, and then gave his whole attention to re-loading his weapon.
Now and then he peeped forth, taking care to show as little of himself
as possible. What he saw encouraged him to hope that he would be able
to do all that was expected of him.
For the second time the bear found his victim slipping away from him
after he was within reach. You cannot wonder that he was in the angriest
possible mood. He must have called to mind, too, that a third boy was
somewhere near, for he could not have failed to see him when he started
after the bigger lad.
But where was the third of the party?
The bear looked here, there, everywhere, but saw nothing of him.
Ah! if the brute had gazed a little closer at that big oak trunk, off to
his left, he would have seen a short, sturdy-looking boy, who had just
finished pouring the priming into the pan of his rifle, and drawing back
the hammer, was stealthily peering around the trunk, so as to decide how
best to aim at the creature.
It so happened that the latter was in the best position to receive such
a charge, and George took but a few seconds to make his aim sure. When
he let fly, the little sphere of lead that whistled from his rifle tore
its way through the heart of the beast, which rolled over on his side
and died immediately, almost without a struggle.
You remember there were two other bears. They were lumbering along the
trail some distance behind the leader, but quite close together. They
did not become aware that anything unusual was going on until Jack fired
his first shot. Then they looked up in their stupid way, and stood
still while the first part of the stirring incidents took place.
Before the crisis was reached, the couple seemed to conclude that there
was no necessity to stay where they were likely to get hurt. So,
without turning aside from the trail, they pushed on in the direction
they were following when first seen.
Jack and Will quickly slid down from the saplings in which they had
taken refuge, and, catching up their guns, ran towards the carcase of
the bear, reached it almost at the same time with George, the three
converging from different directions.
"He's dead sure enough," said Jack, kicking the bulky body.
"He ought to be, with three or four bullets in him," said Will; "George
and I struck him the first time we fired, and you must have hit him.
How was it, Jack, that you didn't kill him?"
"I'll find out," replied Jack, stooping down and examining the skull of
the brute.
"I see how it is," he said, straightening up again; "I fired for his
eye, but there was a stick across my line of aim--just enough to turn
the ball aside, so that it didn't hurt him much."
"But it made him mad," suggested George.
"I should say it did; and then the other two balls made him so mad that
he couldn't get any madder."
"He stood just right for me," said George; "and since he couldn't see
me, I had all the time I wanted to take aim."
"And you did it well," added Jack; "and it was fortunate for us, for we
couldn't use our guns. But what's become of the other two bears?" he
asked, looking around.
"They didn't see any fun in staying here," replied Will, "and so they
went off."
"Let's follow them."
But Will was not inclined to do so.
"You know we started out for a hunt," said he, "and I am in favour of
making it as varied as we can. You found a couple of painters last
night, and an Indian or two this morning. Awhile ago, you had a little
fun with a bull buffalo, and he had more fun with you. We are just
through with the bears, and I'm in favour of trying something else."
"What shall it be?" asked his brother.
"Whatever comes along--wolves, deer, or anything that turns up."
While the three stood near the carcase they were busy re-loading their
guns, for the brothers, as well as Jack, had been taught that that was
the first duty after discharging their weapons.
Naturally the boys were in high spirits over their adventure, which had
ended without harm to any one of the company.
"It seems to me," said George, "that we can find all the fun we want by
following this path to the lick."
"It looks to me," added Jack, "as though we may find more than we want."
"Not unless we meet more buffaloes," remarked Will, with a sly glance at
Jack, whose face flushed.
"I wouldn't mind having one of them, for it will soon be dinner time,
and their meat is good at this season."
"There may be others along the path, and then you can run out and scare
one to death."
"To do that," retorted Jack, "I would have to run as fast as you did
when the bear was at your heels."
"But hardly as fast as you ran when you missed your shot and got up the
tree just in time."
"Any boy that will run from a wounded bear will run from a buffalo bull
when he has his head down and is coming for him: I think one is as bad
as the other."
"That may be, which is a good reason why you shouldn't try to drive him
off as though he were a rooster scratching up your corn."
George grinned over this bit of conversation, which took place with the
best nature on both sides. When it had gone on for a few minutes more,
Will stopped, laughed, and reached out his hand.
"Shake," said he; "I have laughed until I can't laugh any more, and now
we'll drop it."
"I notice one thing that you may not know," said Will, looking up as he
spoke, through the tree tops, "and that is that the sky is not anything
like as clear as it was a little while ago."
"And it is colder," added Jack, with a shiver; "it looks to me very much
as though a storm is coming."
"If there is, it's likely to be a snow-storm, I feel sure."
"It's well I brought this blanket along with me," said George; "Will
didn't think we needed it at all."
"I didn't think so as long as I believed mother meant that _I_ should
carry it. When I found that you were to take charge of it, why I
concluded it well to bring it."
"I almost wish I had mine," said Jack; "but there are plenty of places
where we can build a good roaring fire and the wind won't reach us, and
so after all we will be comfortable, and that's everything."
"Yes," said Will, looking around as though he half expected to see what
they were talking about; "there are spots where we could sleep without a
blanket, after we had kindled a good fire, and it won't take us very
long to find one of them."
At that moment, when all three were about to move toward the trail, they
heard the report of a rifle. It sounded perhaps a quarter of a mile
off, and directly to the south.
Now, there was nothing in this to cause any excitement on the part of
the boys, but they looked in each other's faces with a half scared and
half wondering expression, as though in doubt whether there was ground
for fear or whether there was not.
"I believe that gun was fired by an Indian," said George in a whisper.
"How can you know that?" asked his brother, impatiently.
"I don't know it," answered the younger, "but I only _think_ so."
"I don't know that it makes any difference to us whether it was an
Indian or white man who fired it."
"Of course; and we can't know until we find out for ourselves," was the
sensible but not altogether necessary remark of Master Jack.
*CHAPTER XII.*
*THE STRANGE CAMP FIRE.*
The young hunters now asked themselves whether it was worth while to try
to find out who had fired the gun whose report broke in upon them with
such startling suddenness.
It was not at all unlikely that some of their friends from the
settlement up the river, or from the scattered cabins, were out on a
hunt through the woods.
But when young George blurted out his belief that it was an Indian who
had fired the weapon, he uttered the very thought that was in the mind
of Jack.
Ever since his meeting with the Wyandot chief and his son that morning
he had been uneasy in mind. There were times when he would not think
about the red men, but very soon his thoughts went back to the subject.
His misgiving may be understood when I repeat what I have already
hinted, namely, that the presence of Hua-awa-oma and his son in the
neighbourhood of the two cabins meant that a band of his warriors were
not far away. The Wyandots, as you have already learned, were among the
fiercest enemies of the settlers, and the painted faces of the chieftain
and his son made it look as if the latter was on his first war path.
All this might be hard to explain in the light of the treatment received
by Jack at the hands of Hua-awa-oma, or "He who fights without falling"
but still it was not inexplainable. More than likely the chief gave
back the gun as part punishment to his boy because he was beaten so
badly in the wrestling bout.
Probably the dusky leader felt so much faith in his own place at the
head of a war party of Wyandots that he believed it safe to indulge such
a whim, believing as he did that not only the rifle but also the boy
himself would be at his disposal whenever he cared to claim them.
"If there are Indians near us," said Jack, "we ought to know it, so as
to be able to keep out of their way."
"They must have heard our guns, since we heard one of theirs," remarked
Will.
"If they are white men, we ought to know that too," added George.
"Well, if we are careful I guess we can find out. Come on."
Jack led the way back to the path which they had followed for some
distance, and crossing it, plunged into the wood on the other side.
They had gone only a short way when the ground grew rougher, and sloped
upward like a ridge. They pushed on until they reached the top of an
elevation of several hundred feet.
Beyond this the land sloped off again into a valley, fully a half mile
in width, beyond which it rose almost to the same height as the surface
on which they stood.
The spot where they halted was so open and free from undergrowth that
they had a good view of the small valley spread out before them, and
over which they gazed with keen interest.
"Hallo, there they are!" whispered Will.
Following the direction of his finger, his companions saw near the
middle of the valley a column of smoke ascending from among the trees,
and lazily mingling with the air above, where it rested almost
stationary, as though it had been there for hours.
"Yes," said Jack, "a camp fire is there, but we don't know whether it
belongs to Indians or white men."
"That's what we have come to find out."
"It seems to me," said George, "that instead of going down together we
ought to separate. What do you think, Jack?"
"It strikes me as a good plan; if we keep together it will be hard work
for us to find out what we want to know without letting the Indians--if
they are Indians--find out more than we want them to learn about us."
"That is good enough," observed Will, to whom the others looked to hear
his opinion, "and I guess we may as well try it; but if we separate we
have got to be mighty careful that we don't run into danger before we
know it. I will turn to the right, you, Jack, to the left, while George
can push straight down into the valley; we must be on the watch all the
time. As soon as one of us sees anything that tells what we want to
know, he must turn back to this place and wait for the others."
"The first one who finds the camp and learns who started it ought to
signal to the others, so that they need not run any more risk."
"We will do that," said Jack; "and that is likely to be George, because
he has a shorter distance than either of us to travel."
"What shall be the signal?"
Jack placed his two hands in front of his mouth, the palms curved toward
each other, so that a hollow space was enclosed, the thumbs being in
front. Pressing his lips against these, he blew gently, and made a
soft, deep whistle, whose volume he could increase until it was audible
for several hundred yards.
While the call thus made bore little resemblance to that of any animal
or bird, it had the advantage of being hard to locate. That is, if a
person should detect it in the forest it would require the closest
attention, and then would have to be repeated several times before the
hearer could fix the exact spot whence it came.
"You know how to do that?" he said, looking inquiringly at the brothers.
By way of reply, each fashioned his hands as Jack had done, and, with
the lips against the thumbs, emitted a precisely similar sound.
"That's it," he said. "It is understood then that the first one who
finds out what we want to know is to start straight back to this spot,
and as soon as he reaches a point where it is safe to make the signal he
will do so. Neither of the others will be too far off to hear, and will
hurry back. Then, after we learn the truth, we'll settle what is best
to be done."
All this was simple enough, and when each had added several cautions to
the others they silently parted company.
You will see from what has been told that there was reason to believe
that George Burton, who took the direct course to the camp fire, would
be the first to reach it. Indeed, the others were so confident of his
doing so that they were rather indifferent to their own progress.
Feeling the responsibility on him, young George acted like an old
campaigner, using more care than seemed necessary at first; but he had
felt quite sure from the beginning that they were near a party of Indian
warriors, and he did not mean to betray himself and friends into their
hands by any lack of caution. He was glad to see, after going a short
distance down the slope, that there was an increase of undergrowth.
This gave him a better chance to keep his body screened while
approaching the camp.
"Whatever happens," was his thought, "it shan't be said that _I_ was the
cause of Jack and Will getting into trouble. If there are a party of
Indians tramping through here, it is for no good, and the best thing we
can do is to get back home as quick as we know how."
At the end of a quarter of an hour he thought he must be close to the
camp. Since coming down into the valley he was unable to see the smoke
that was in such plain sight when they were on top of the ridge, but he
used his keen eyes and sense of hearing with a skill that an Indian
scout would have found hard to surpass.
"It must be close at hand--_sh_!"
Sure enough, he had not gone five steps farther when he came in full
view of the camp.
In the middle of a small open space a number of sticks had been piled
together and kindled an hour or two before. This was plain, not only
from the number of burnt-out embers and brands, but from the appearance
of the smoke above the trees as already described.
On a fallen tree, near the fire, sat three Indian warriors, talking
together in their low guttural voices. Another was in the act of
stooping down and lighting his long-stemmed pipe, while a fifth was
standing a few feet away, examining his rifle--this being all that were
in sight.
Each was in his war paint, and, young as was George Burton, he was
certain that they were but a fraction of the party that was in the woods
bent on mischief.
"They must be Wyandots," he thought, forming this opinion from the story
told by Jack of his encounter that morning; "and we must get home as
fast as we can, and tell the folk."
Full of this purpose, he turned softly about to hasten back, when he
found himself face to face with a gigantic and scowling Indian warrior!
*CHAPTER XIII.*
*CAPTIVE AND CAPTORS.*
Poor George Burton! After creeping close to the Indian camp fire, and
using all the care he could, he had turned about to go back with the
important news thus gained, when he found himself face to face with a
gigantic warrior, who had stolen up behind him without the least noise
that could betray his approach. For a moment the lad was speechless.
Young as he was, he saw that he was helpless, but with a weak hope that
the savage might be friendly, he said in a faint voice--
"How do you do?"
He did not reach out his hand, being afraid to do so, but he took a step
to one side and forward, with the purpose of attempting to pass around
the red man who had suddenly stood in his path.
It was an idle hope. The other also moved a step that placed him in
front of the boy, so as to block his way.
"Howly do?" he asked, extending his brawny hand, which, it need not be
said, was taken by George with much hesitation. The Indian, however,
grasped and shook it without offering any injury.
The lad noticed that not only was the face of the red man hideously
painted, but that his nose was awry, as though it had been slashed or
broken by some frightful wound. He must have been several inches more
than six feet in height, with a tremendous breadth of chest and reach of
limb. He was dressed in the usual fashion of his people, and carried a
tomahawk and knife in his belt.
Instead of being armed with a bow and arrow, as was Hua-awa-oma, whom
Jack had spoken about, this remarkable warrior had a long fine rifle,
with the necessary powder-horn and shot-pouch held by strings passing
round his neck.
The first action after this greeting was an alarming one to George.
Reaching out, he drew the rifle from the grasp of the lad, whose anguish
was as great as that of Jack Gedney had been.
"Hoof! Yenghese brave--he go!"
The lad would not have caught the whole meaning of this but for the
expressive gesture that accompanied it. The red man pointed towards the
camp fire, thereby meaning that his captive should walk in that
direction.
The circumstances being as they were, George did the wisest thing he
could: he obeyed the order of his captor, who, had he chosen, could have
smitten him to the earth with as much ease as though he were but an
infant.
George, like all youngsters, was deeply interested in the accounts of
frontier adventure. He had heard the hunters who sometimes stopped at
his house say that the wisest course for a captive in the hands of
Indians is to try to please them in every way. Any sullenness or
disobedience rouses their anger, and they are quick to punish, and most
likely to torment and kill, the hapless prisoner.
The agitation of George was great, but he forced himself to smile, and
to say, "How do you do?" as he walked among the party, and took his seat
on the log near where the three of whom I have spoken were waiting.
During the few minutes that George was allowed to sit undisturbed on the
log he closely watched the faces of the Indians, and particularly of the
one who had made him prisoner.
It was the ugliest countenance he had ever seen. Not only was the nose
twisted out of shape, but the mouth was amazingly broad, though, like
nearly all of the American race, his teeth were white and even. But his
eyes were so small that they looked like beads. Around each was a white
ring, while the greasy clay that served for paint was daubed over the
rest of his features with an effect so hideous as to prove that the
redskin was a genius in that line.
During those few minutes also the little fellow did a great deal of
serious thinking.
The most natural question that he tried to answer was as to what the
Indians were likely to do with him. The different tribes who roamed
through the Ohio forests and Kentucky cane-fields were not famous for
their kindness or mercy to their prisoners. It is well known that they
often tortured them in the most shocking manner. Colonel Crawford, who
commanded one of the expeditions sent into that section about the time
of which I am telling you, was not only defeated, but he and many of his
men were taken prisoners. Colonel Crawford was fastened to a stake
driven into the ground, and burned to death with dreadful agony.
All this, not to name other similar incidents, was known to George
Burton, who might well tremble for his own fate. Still he did not give
up hope.
"Maybe they will think I don't amount to enough for them to bother with,
and they may let me go, though I know there is no chance of ever getting
my rifle back again. I am glad of one thing--they didn't catch Will or
Jack."
The thought of them led George to glance behind and in front, as though
he expected to see them approach. Natural as was the act on his part,
it was noticed by the Wyandots (such was their tribe), who may have
supposed that he expected some of his friends to come to his relief.
They looked sharply at the boy, and then resumed their talk.
"We agreed," thought George, recalling their parting, "that we should
all keep up the hunt until we learned what we wanted. So Jack or Will
will prowl around this camp until they see what a scrape I'm in, and
then, what will they do?"
Ay, what _could_ they do?
"They'll run home and tell father," thought the captive, continuing his
line of thought, "and he may set out to get me, but what can he do
against all this crowd? He may go up to the settlement and bring a lot
of the folk to help, but before they can come within reach of these
people my fate will be settled."
There was every reason to believe that George Burton was quite right in
the latter conclusion.
The conversation of the Wyandots, whatever its nature, lasted only a few
minutes longer. Then the one who was occupied in filling his pipe when
George first caught sight of the camp came forward, and stopped in front
of him.
Most of the red men who live along the frontier soon pick up a few words
of English, but it is seldom that one is seen who spoke so readily as
did he who now addressed the captive. Doubtless on that account he was
called upon.
"Where paleface come from?" he asked, with such a good accent that
George looked up at him in surprise.
"From my home over yonder," was his prompt reply, as he pointed to the
northward--the direction in which his home lay.
"What name be?"
George gave it, whereupon his questioner took several whiffs of his
pipe, nodded his head several times and grunted, as if to signify that
he knew all about Mr. Burton.
"Come alone?"
"I came with my brother Will and Jack Gedney."
Again the Indian indulged in several whiffs, nods, and grunts.
It was quite clear that he was in a neighbourhood with which he was
familiar.
"Where be they?"
"I do not know," was the truthful reply of the lad, who, all the same,
would never say anything that could endanger his friends.
The eyes of his Wyandot questioner flashed, and without waiting to take
any more puffs at his pipe, he added, in a louder voice--
"Tell me, or me kill you."
"I can't tell you, for I don't know. I parted from them some time ago,
and don't know where they are."
"Why you leave them?"
"We saw the smoke of your camp fire, and we started out to find whether
it belonged to white or red men."
The Indian looked sharply down in his face, and laid his hand on his
tomahawk, as if asking himself whether he had not better end the whole
matter by whipping out the weapon, and braining the little fellow as he
sat on the log.
"Be oder Yengese in woods?"
"Not that I know of; Jack Gedney had a new gun given him yesterday by
his father because it was his birthday, and he and we started into the
woods to-day on a hunt."
Poor George would probably have added more had not an interruption taken
place at that moment, caused by an important arrival.
*CHAPTER XIV.*
*THE SIGNAL AND ITS REPLY.*
You will remember that when the three boys separated with the purpose of
finding out who started the camp fire, Will went to the right and Jack
to the left.
Will, being the oldest of the three, felt that in a certain sense he was
the leader of the party, and the one to whom the others looked for
guidance. He knew at the same time that Jack Gedney was just as well
qualified as he, and that in some respects he was his superior. But a
year makes a big difference with a youngster of his age.
Will made quite a long circuit to the right, his intention being to
approach the camp fire from a point some distance beyond. There was
little change in the general character of the wood, though at some
points the undergrowth was so plentiful as to require labour and
patience on his part.
He was pushing forward in this fashion when he caught his toe in one of
the troublesome running vines, and went forward on his face. The fall
was not violent enough to hurt him, though it caused a natural
exclamation of impatience.
"It's well I am a good way from the camp," he thought, resuming his
feet; "for if Indians were near they would have heard me sure."
A hundred yards farther, and he began turning to the left with the
intention of approaching the camp; but he had gone only a short distance
when he became aware that there was some one in front who was following
the same course. He knew this by the bent and broken twigs, the pressed
bushes, and more than all by sounds of a moving body only a short
distance off.
"That's queer," was the natural thought of the boy; "I wonder whether
Jack or George has got over on my side. They ought to know better than
to move that way."
The thought had hardly taken shape in the mind of Will when he caught a
glimpse of the figure a few rods in advance. It was an Indian warrior,
whose back was turned towards him.
He was walking among the trees and through the undergrowth in a
leisurely fashion, that showed he not only knew how close he was to the
camp, but that the parties gathered there were his friends.
When the boy observed him he stepped softly behind the nearest tree, and
hardly dared to peep out until the red man had passed beyond sight. Had
the savage turned his head at first, he must have detected the lad.
"That's strange," muttered Will, when he peeped around the tree, and
found the Indian had disappeared; "if I had been a minute later in
falling he must have heard me. His people don't travel in that style
when they suspect enemies are near."
Will was sure he was right in his conclusion; the camp fire belonged to
Indians, and the warrior who had just vanished was one of the party, as
was shown by his carelessness of movement.
Such being the case, the boy felt that he had learned all that he needed
to know, and it was not prudent for him to go farther. It was now
certain that a war party of Indians were in the neighbourhood, and the
right thing for the boys to do was to hasten back home, so as to warn
their friends.
It cannot be denied that this was a sensible decision, and Will lost no
time in acting upon it.
His belief was that he was ahead of the others in learning about the red
men, and he was anxious to notify Jack and George, so as to keep them
from running into danger. Remembering the signal that had been agreed
upon, he placed the hollow of his hands together, applied his lips to
the thumbs, and gave out the whistle like that made by a steam engine,
when the sound comes a long way over land and through forest.
"They will hear that," he said to himself, as he stood a minute and
listened, "and will keep away from the camp. The Indians will hear it
too, but they won't have any idea what it means. Hallo!"
To the surprise of Will he detected an answer to his signal. It sounded
faint and far off; but you remember what I said about the trouble of
knowing the point from which such a signal comes. To save his life, the
lad could not have told whether it issued from the north, south, east,
or west.
"That's good," he said to himself, starting back over the course by
which he had advanced. "I don't think either Jack or George has got
nigh enough to the camp to run any risk, and it was fortunate that I
found out the truth in time to warn them."
Some minutes later, when he had made fair progress, he stopped in his
walk and repeated his signal, thinking possibly that the first had been
heard by only one of his companions.
"That will reach both, and start them towards the top of the ridge."
While he was listening he again caught the reply. Since he was half
expecting it, he laughed.
"I think that's Jack. There isn't any need of his answering, but I
suppose he wants to show how well he can do it."
You would think that Will was sure of the course of the faint hollow
whistle that trembled among the trees, but he was not. It may have been
that because he expected the reply from a certain point that it seemed
to come thence, but all the same he was mistaken.
"I'll be the first to the ridge, and most likely will be the only one
that has got any news. My gracious!"
This time the tremulous call was so close that he could not mistake its
direction. It sounded in front, and not twenty rods distant. The
affrighted Will halted, knowing that something was wrong.
"I don't believe that is either Jack or George," he said to himself.
"They couldn't have got back there in time."
Whatever doubt might have lingered in the mind of Will was removed by
the sight of the one who had just emitted the signal. The head of a
Wyandot warrior was thrust so far from behind the trunk of a tree that
his shoulders was seen through the black mass of coarse hair dangling
about them.
The redskin was within easy gunshot, and he held his rifle pointed
straight at the boy, but the latter, not knowing whether it was a
summons to surrender, or whether the savage meant to fire, bounded
behind the nearest tree.
"I've got a gun as well as you, and you don't catch me for the asking."
The same signal that had been heard several times once more fell upon
the ear of Will. Like the last, it was so near that he could not
mistake its direction--it was from the rear.
Turning his head, he saw a second Indian within fifty feet, with a bow
and arrow. He did not try to screen his body, but his primitive weapon
was held in such a position that he could launch the shaft before the
boy could have used his weapon.
Will was caught between two fires, for you will see that since one of
his enemies was in front and the other in the rear, he could not use the
tree as a screen against both; in whatever position he took he would be
exposed to their aim.
"There is no help for it," was the despairing thought of the lad, when
both Indians began walking towards him. Not wishing to exasperate them,
he dropped the butt of his gun to the ground, as he stepped out from
behind the tree that he had used for the moment as a screen against the
first warrior.
His captors accepted this as a sign of friendship, and the one with a
rifle also lowered his weapon, though both he and his ally kept a close
watch on the youth, who, like ripe fruit, had fallen into their hands
without "shaking."
It was a trying ordeal for Will to stand motionless while these two
aborigines drew nigh, but he recalled what Jack had told him about his
meeting with the chieftain Hua-awa-oma, and his wrestling bout with
Arowaka, his son.
"This must be his party; maybe that fellow with the bow and arrow is the
chief himself. If he was so kind to Jack, he may show a little
indulgence to me. But there is no way now of helping myself, and I must
trust to God to take care of me, as He has done all my life."
The first act of the Indian with the bow and arrow was to take the gun
of Will Burton from him. He did not ask for the powder-horn and
bullet-pouch, satisfied, no doubt, that they were his whenever he chose
to take them. But the gun was loaded, and the safest course was to
withdraw it from the hands of him who might feel like doing harm with
it.
Will looked sharply at the redskin as he passed his rifle to him. He
observed that he was dressed as Jack had described, and his face was
hideously painted.
"Are you Hua-awa-oma?" asked the boy.
The savage looked inquiringly at him, and Will repeated the question.
The warrior muttered something, and shook his head. He was not
Hua-awa-oma, for he did not understand a word said to him.
The other Wyandot stood for a moment while this brief interview took
place. Then pointing toward the camp fire, he made an angry gesture,
nodded his head several times, and said something in his own tongue,
which was clearly meant as the order "March!"
Will did not wait for a second command, but stepped briskly forward, and
a few minutes later joined the group which I have already described as
gathered around the Wyandot camp fire.
*CHAPTER XV.*
*ANOTHER ARRIVAL.*
It was the arrival of Will Burton in charge of his two captors that
broke in upon the interview between George and the Wyandot, who was
asking him a number of questions shaped in very good English.
The meeting of the brothers, as you may well suppose, was a painful
surprise to both of them.
"How came you to be here?" asked the elder, taking a seat beside the
other on the log.
"One of them stole up behind me when I wasn't thinking," replied George,
swallowing a lump in his throat. "I didn't believe any of them would
catch you."
"Nor I either," replied Will, with a shake of his head, and turning
pale; "but they are mighty cunning and smart. Did you hear me when I
signalled?"
George shook his head. It should be said that during the few minutes
the brothers were allowed to talk with each other the Indians themselves
were conversing. The arrival of the captives evidently started several
theories and questions, which required some time to discuss.
The Wyandots kept an eye on the boys sitting on the fallen tree, but
they made no objection to their talking together. The latter noticed
that all were on their feet, speaking earnestly, and gesticulating with
much energy. Among them were a couple who had bows and arrows instead
of guns, though the majority were furnished with the more deadly rifle.
"I wonder if they'll catch Jack too?" said the younger, after his
brother had told him how his own signal had betrayed him.
"I shouldn't wonder. I suppose there was so much going on here that you
didn't hear me when I whistled, but it must have reached Jack and
started him on the move, and likely enough he has made the same blunder
that we have. You know he went on the other side from me, and must have
come just as close to camp."
"What do you suppose they will do with us, Will?"
The elder shook his head.
"I can't tell, any more than you can; we can only hope that they will
spare our lives."
"If they do let us go they won't give us back our guns."
"Of course not; they will be a big loss to us, but not so much as our
lives."
"We can't be sure that we won't lose them too," was the truthful remark
of George. "I was thinking," he added, "that if Jack keeps out of their
hands he will see what has happened to us. He'll hurry back home, and
they may be able to get enough men together to make the Indians give us
up."
Will shook his head, and compressed his lips.
"There is no hope there; you know how fast the Indians travel through
the woods. They will get away before any of our friends can start."
"But their villages are not so far off that they cannot be found. You
remember how Daniel Boone chased the Indians that stole his daughter,
and brought her back?"
"Yes; he told father about it when he was at our house. But that was
different. If the Wyandots--as I suppose these people are--should find
there was any chance of losing us, they would kill us as quick as
lightning. The only hope," added Will, with a sigh, "is in
Hua-awa-oma."
"How do you make that out?"
"I don't make it out, and more than likely there's nothing in it; but
you know Jack told us that he is a chief, and that he gave his gun back
to him."
"That was because he beat his boy wrestling."
"Well, it may be that on Jack's account he won't be too severe with us;
but," added Will the next instant, "there can't be much chance after
all. I wonder whether Hua-awa-oma is among these fellows? I thought
that the one who came in with me was he, because he had no rifle until
he took mine away from me."
"Maybe he is the chief."
"No; I asked him, and found he couldn't speak English. That fellow who
brought you in is the biggest Indian I ever saw, but he can't be the
chief."
"No; I know he is not."
While talking, the boys were studying the figures and faces of the red
men around them, for they were interesting indeed.
"There's one thing that makes it sure that Hua-awa-oma is absent," said
the elder, settling back on the log; "his boy who wrestled with Jack is
not here. He is taking him on his first war trail, and he would be sure
to keep him near him until they got back."
"Don't you think it strange, Will, that when most of these people have
rifles the sachem who leads them should carry nothing better than bows
and arrows?"
"That is natural enough: he has probably taken his boy out for a little
training, and his father carries his own bow the better to teach him.
When the chief comes back to his warriors you may be sure that he will
have the best gun in the party."
"It may be that he belongs to another party."
"I have thought of that, but I guess there is only the one company that
is on this raid. However, we can talk all day and it won't help us any.
Do you know whether any of them can speak English?"
"There is one that speaks it better than any Indian I ever saw: where is
he?" asked George, straightening up, and looking around for the warrior
who was questioning and threatening him at the moment the elder brother
was brought into camp.
"I declare!" exclaimed the boy the next moment, when he discovered that
the very Wyandot for whom he was searching was standing directly behind
the log on which they were sitting. His arms were folded and he was
looking at his friends who were talking so earnestly together, but
beyond all question he had heard and understood every word spoken by the
boys.
"Well," said the elder, dropping his voice, "we have told all there is
to tell, and we may as well keep on talking."
"And that doesn't leave us much to talk about," replied George, who
spoke in a louder voice than his brother.
At this juncture the vigorous conversation among the Wyandots stopped;
and several of them took seats on the log near the boys.
The brothers, as you may well suppose, felt anything but comfortable
when they saw they were the objects of the attention that had been
turned away for a few minutes.
The warrior who has been referred to as speaking such good English now
addressed himself to Will.
"Where be Jack?"
This question was proof, if any was needed, that he understood what had
passed between the brothers during the conversation which I have given.
"I parted company with him on the ridge, and haven't seen him since."
"Which way he go?"
Will hesitated before answering. He could not do anything that looked
like a betrayal of his friend. If he answered the question truthfully it
might give the very information that would result in the capture of the
only one of the three that had been able to keep out of the hands of the
Indians.
It would have been easy enough to tell an untruth, but the soul of the
boy revolted against it. Besides, the falsehood was almost certain to
be discovered sooner or later, in which event the penalty would be
visited upon him.
"Don't you know," whispered George, "that you spoke of the route Jack
took? The Indian knows it himself."
Of course; why was not Will as quick as his brother to see the trap his
questioner was setting?
Will disguised very well the cause of his hesitation. He scratched his
head and looked around in the wood, as if uncertain of the point of the
compass. Then his face lightened, as if it all had come back to him.
"Yonder is the ridge where we three stood a half-hour ago," he said,
pointing in the proper direction; "I went that way; my brother here came
straight down to the camp; while Jack turned off so as to go among the
trees yonder."
The answer was truthful, as the Indian well knew. He had been misled,
too, by the manner of Will, who therefore gained whatever it was worth
in the eyes of the Wyandots by speaking with a "single tongue."
"We catch Jack," continued his questioner; "we bring him here; he soon
be here; we take him home to Wyandot town; we make 'em run gauntlet;
then we kill all you."
I suppose you know what is meant by running the gauntlet. It is a
common torture to which the American Indians subject their prisoners.
Two rows of savages arm themselves with clubs, and compel the poor
captive to run a long distance between them. As he passes within reach,
each redskin belabours him without mercy, so that, as the victim has to
run a long way, he is almost certain to be knocked to the earth, where
more than likely he is beaten to death.
If he succeeds in running the gauntlet he is sometimes spared (as was
Simon Kenton), but is often kept for other forms of torture.
What further the Wyandot might have said to the boys can only be
guessed, for, as before, he was checked by another arrival that was the
strangest and most important of all--one that astonished even the stolid
Wyandots themselves.
*CHAPTER XVI.*
*HOW TO CONQUER AN ENEMY.*
I have told you what befell Will and George Burton when they made their
attempt to find out who had kindled the camp fire in the valley below
the ridge on which they halted. But the experience of Jack Gedney was
the strangest of all.
You have learned enough about this boy to admit that he was bright and
alert, and that when he moved through the woods he always kept his
senses about him. Like his friend Will, he thought it best to pass
slightly beyond the camp before approaching it, though for myself I
cannot see the reason for such a course.
Instead, therefore, of taking the most direct route, he moved to the
left, so that, when opposite to the Wyandots, he was really farther away
from them than while on the ridge. The distance was such indeed that he
failed to hear the signal of Will, who supposed it was loud enough to
travel a long way through the wilderness.
Pausing for a moment, Jack carefully looked about him, and even among
the tops of the trees. The only living thing which he saw was a huge
rattlesnake, that was crawling by a stump a few yards away. Like the
majority of mankind, the first prompting of the lad was to rush forward
and kill the reptile. In fact, he started to do so.
Instantly the serpent twisted itself into a coil, and with its head
rearing from the centre, shook its rattle as an invitation to attack.
Jack could have easily shot off its head, and he would have been glad to
do so, for it was an unusually large and repulsive pest, but to fire his
gun at such a time would have been an imprudence for which there could
be no excuse.
"I'll let you go," he said, looking steadily at it for a few seconds;
"but it's well for you that I didn't meet you before I knew anything
about this camp."
The _crotalus_ species is easily killed, but this specimen, finding its
invitation to a fight not accepted, unwound, and crawled off.
Seeing and hearing nothing, Jack began moving towards the camp, though,
like his friends, he was unable to see anything of the smoke that was
their guide when they halted on the crest of the ridge. He had travelled
through the forest long enough, however, to keep his bearings, and he
was sure that he was going in a straight line for the camp, which, he
was almost equally sure, belonged to the Wyandot tribe of Indians.
"It will be odd if I find Hua-awa-oma there," he said to himself, while
stealthily picking his way. "I wonder what he would say if I should
walk up to him and offer my hand? I am afraid he wouldn't be so kind as
he was a while ago."
The boy was stepping in this guarded manner, as wide awake as ever,
when, like Will, his toe caught in one of the running vines close to the
ground, and he stumbled forward. He did not fall, though he came very
near doing so. His head was thrown forward and downward in his effort
to check himself.
No accident could have been more fortunate for it saved Jack's life. At
the very instant of stumbling he heard the twang of a bow-string, and
the missile which was aimed at him, whizzed over his shoulder and was
buried in the trunk of a tree beyond.
In obedience to a thought that came like an inspiration to him, the boy
allowed himself to fall forward on his hands and knees, where he
remained motionless for several seconds. Turning his head he saw the
arrow that had missed him by a hair's-breadth with its head buried deep
in the bark, while the feathered shaft was still quivering from the
force of the impact.
The missile was fired by Arowaka, who, in returning to camp, caught
sight of his enemy in front of him. Seeing him fall at the moment the
arrow left his hand, and failing to note where it went, the young savage
thought the lad had been fatally pierced by the shaft. Whipping out his
knife, he ran forward with the intention of taking the scalp from his
victim.
He had but a short distance to go when he caught sight of the white boy,
who, instead of lying on the ground in his death struggles, was kneeling
on one knee, with his cocked rifle levelled at the head of the young
Wyandot.
The latter, with a terrified "Hoof!" stopped as if shot, and stood
transfixed, absolutely unable to stir. He saw he was at the mercy of his
foe, who he did not believe would spare his life for a dozen seconds.
"_Arowaka, you're mine!_" said Jack, slowly rising to his feet, but
keeping his gun levelled.
The words seemed to rouse the senses of the Indian youth, who dropped
his bow, folded his arms, and, throwing his shoulders back as he faced
his conqueror, said in a low, firm voice--
"Arowaka ready! He die like warrior!"
There was a heroism in the pose and words of the youthful Wyandot which
thrilled Jack Gedney. Almost any one would have started to run, or,
seeing there was no hope in doing so, would have begged for mercy. The
Indian did neither, but, the son of a sachem as he was, he proved that
he could die like the bravest of his people.
But, bless your heart, Jack had not the least wish to harm him. The law
of the border would have told him to shoot him, since the action of the
Indian proved him to be a mortal enemy, and one who, unwilling to show
mercy himself, did not deserve that any should be shown to him.
Jack would have done his utmost to slay the young savage had they met in
mortal combat, but the check came before that point was reached. And,
again, he was touched by the cool daring of Arowaka.
Hardly were the words spoken by the Indian when Jack lowered his gun,
softly letting down the hammer, and said, with a smile--
"Arowaka, let us be friends."
As he spoke, he stepped forward and offered his hand to the young
Wyandot.
You would have been entertained could you have seen the face of Arowaka
when he grasped the meaning of the words and actions of his conqueror.
The paint smeared over his countenance could not hide the expressions of
bewilderment, of wonder, and then of delight, that succeeded each other
so quickly that he extended his own hand, and shook that of Jack with a
warmth of pressure which made him wince.
"Arowaka love Jack."
There was no mistaking the depth of feeling that prompted these words,
spoken in a low voice, in which there was a quaver that was not there
when he declared himself ready to die.
The Indian felt that the youth who had overthrown him in the wrestling
bout, and whose death he had treacherously attempted, had now given back
his own life to him. That stratum of gratitude which, though hidden
deeper in some hearts than others, nevertheless _is there_, and _can be
reached_, had been found by Jack. The burning hatred of Arowaka for the
youth was now turned to love.
The American might feel an enmity for ever toward the Caucasian, but
against this single member of that race he could never know aught but
deep affection.
I tell you, boys and girls, there is nothing like kindness and charity
in winning the hearts of your enemies. Make the test, and prove it for
yourselves.
At the moment the two youths of different blood stood with hands clasped
and looking in each other's face, a third party silently pressed forward
into sight.
He was Hua-awa-oma, the chieftain, and father of Arowaka.
He must have been surprised by the sight, knowing how resentful his son
felt towards the white youth for overthrowing him, but the explanation
was quickly made.
It seemed that Hua-awa-oma and his son had started out on a scout
together (a number of warriors being similarly employed), when the
former decided to return to camp. He directed his son to take a
different route from his own, and thus it came about that they met as
they did in the vicinity of the war party.
Arowaka dropped the hand of his new friend, and turning to his father,
told him the story.
Of course, Jack did not understand a word spoken, but the language of
the American Indian is largely made up of gesture, and our young friend
was sure of the general run of the story.
He-who-Fights-Without-Falling (which, you know, was the meaning in
English of the name of Hua-awa-oma) looked straight in the face of the
narrator while he was speaking, but did not utter a word. Jack,
however, noted the gleam of his eye, and he knew that whatever it might
mean, it signified no harm to him.
The story was a brief one; but as the Christian kindness of Jack went
home to the heart of the son, so did the touching narrative thereof stir
the deepest feelings of the swarthy heathen who had wrenched the hair
from the head of more than one quivering victim, and sunk his tomahawk
into the brain of more than one poor wretch pleading for mercy.
When Arowaka ceased, his parent turned towards Jack and reached out his
hand.
"Brave Yenghese--great warrior--Hua-awa-oma love him; no Wyandot hurt
Jack--_no hurt people of Jack_!"
The meaning of the last remark was not fully understood by the lad until
years afterwards. I will tell you about it later on.
"I am glad that Hua-awa-oma is a friend to me. I love Arowaka, and we
shall never try to hurt each other. I will do anything I can for
Hua-awa-oma or for Arowaka."
And now followed such a singular proceeding, that I must take another
chapter to tell you about it.
*CHAPTER XVII.*
*A FRIEND AT COURT.*
Tim American race is noted for its stoicism. An Indian warrior
undergoing a painful death will not please his enemies by showing
suffering, but will die with words of defiance on his lips, and scorning
the rage of his persecutors.
Many have thought that these people are lacking in affection for their
offspring, but this is a mistake. Among their wigwams in the depth of
the wilderness, where the eye of no stranger can see them, they will pet
and fondle their little ones with as much evidence of love as their
civilised brethren. They are strict and often cruel in training their
young, but they hold them as closely to their hearts as the tenderest
parent ever held his boy or girl.
So it was with the Wyandot chieftain. He was harsh with his son, whom
he had taken on the war-path for the first time, but Hua-awa-oma would
have given his life to save that of Arowaka. He would not have blamed
him had he succeeded in driving the arrow through the heart of Jack
Gedney, for the lad was trained for such treacherous deeds; but Arowaka
failed, and then the white boy spared his life.
This was an act beyond the reach of the American Indian, and, alas! I
must say, it was beyond the reach of many a white man, but it won the
gratitude of the chieftain. Having assured Jack of this fact, he now
looked at him, and said in his abrupt way--
"Jack teach Arowaka how wrestle."
Jack laughed. The chief admired his skill as shown earlier in the day,
and he wanted him to teach the dusky youth some of the tricks by which
the white lad was able to lay his antagonist on his back.
Jack was glad to do so. Leaning his gun against the nearest tree,
Arowaka doing the same with his bow, he stepped towards him, smiling and
saying--
"Arowaka will soon see, for he is strong."
The Indian lad was as much pleased as he, for he was sure of learning
more than he had ever known about the art of wrestling--enough to enable
him to beat any of his friends who dared engage in a contest with him.
Jack was shrewd. When he locked arms with Arowaka he could have flung
him at once to the earth, but he took good care not to do so. He made
several feints, but checked himself before the lad went down. Then he
showed him how to make those feints, how to trip his opponent, and,
indeed, he did his utmost to teach him everything that he had learned
from his own father.
Arowaka was an apt pupil. He was lithe, sinewy, and eager to learn, and
with such conditions a boy is sure to pick up the art with great
quickness. After this had continued some time, Jack said--
"Now look out! See whether you can keep me from throwing you just as I
did this morning the first time I tried."
The two locked their arms more rigidly than before, and the struggle
looked like a fierce one. Hua-awa-oma watched it with the closest
interest. Back and forth twisted the boys, like a couple of enemies
locked in deadly embrace, and struggling for their lives.
All at once the heels of Jack went up in the air and he fell flat on his
back, with Arowaka, across him. The chief was so delighted that he
broke into laughter. Was there ever an apter pupil than his own son?
Now I must tell you the truth. Jack Gedney was guilty of a gross
deception. All that furious twisting and swinging back and forth was
pretence on his part. He could have thrown Arowaka with a little more
effort than he put forth in the morning, but he deliberately allowed him
to throw him, and he did it, too, in such a manner that neither the
youth nor his parent suspected it was not a fair victory.
Jack climbed to his feet, and with a sheepish look brushed the leaves
from his clothing.
"You did that well," said he; "when you go back to your people there
will be no youth that you cannot master. Now let me show you something
else."
Jack carefully instructed him in the method of flinging an antagonist
over his shoulders. Arowaka soon caught the idea, but when, in his
confidence, he offered to engage in a trial with his teacher, the latter
laughed, and shook his head.
"No; I have never been tossed that way, and I don't want you to drive my
head into the ground."
It really looked as if he was afraid of Arowaka, but you know he was
not. He was wise, however, in making Arowaka think so.
To please Hua-awa-oma, the youths once more locked arms. It would have
awakened suspicion had Jack allowed the other to beat him again, but he
went as near to it as was prudent. He struggled long, and when the two
went down, it was side by side. Then, when they tried it again, he
threw Arowaka fairly.
Once more, and for the last time, they assailed each other, Jack, by
what seemed a failure to catch a feint of the other, falling under him.
The boys rose to their feet, and the smiling chieftain shook hands with
both. Not only that, but he patted Jack on the shoulder and said--
"Brave boy! Hua-awa-oma friend--Jack come with Hua-awa-oma."
The lad was a little startled by this invitation to enter the Indian
camp with the sachem. He would have much preferred to join his friends
and go home, but he was afraid to object, and he knew that he would be
safe so long as in the company of Hua-awa-oma.
"I will go with my friend the great chief," he said, picking up his gun,
and pausing for the sachem to lead the way.
He-who-Fights-Without-Falling stepped off, followed by Jack and Arowaka,
the two youths walking side by side. It was the arrival of this little
party which caused such a sensation in camp, and which you will agree,
was the most important of the three that took place.
That which astonished the Wyandots was the evidence that the third boy
who approached did not do so as a captive. Unlike the others, he came
as the friend and guest of their own chief, one of the most famous
leaders of the Wyandot tribe. Not only that, but Hua-awa-oma was an
implacable foe of the settlers along the Ohio and in Kentucky.
No wonder, therefore, that the warriors were astonished.
Will and George were as much amazed as was Jack to see them. They rose
from the log, and the elder said--
"Well, they have got us all at last; we may as well give up now."
"Why, boys, I am not a prisoner. This is the chief and his son, and
they are friends of mine."
The faces of the brothers lightened, but they did not feel sure that
Jack was not mistaken. He read their doubts, and added--
"There is no mistake about it; I have been out in the wood yonder
teaching Arowaka how to wrestle, and the chief was so pleased that he
asked me to come into camp with him."
"How do you know what he means to do with you?" asked George.
"I have no fear about _that_," was the reply of Jack. "I showed mercy to
his son when he didn't expect it, and the chief is grateful."
"We are glad to know that _you_ are safe," said Will, speaking in a low
voice, so that none of the Wyandots should overhear him; "but the chief
has no reason to spare George and me."
"I am sure he will; any way, you can depend on one thing: I shall not
accept my freedom unless he gives you yours. I'll stand by you all the
way through."
"There is no need of that," replied Will, touched by the devotion of his
friend. "I know you will do all you can to get Hua-awa-oma to let us
go, but if he refuses it won't help matters by your staying behind."
"I'll show you how it will help matters," said Jack, more determinedly
than before; "but while they are having their confab, tell me, Will, how
came you to be here?"
The elder brother gave the particulars of his mishap, just as you
learned them long ago. When he was through, George told his experience,
which is also familiar to you. And then Jack related how Arowaka had so
nearly taken his life, and how he spared him when he was helpless.
"It was no more than either of you would have done had you stood in my
shoes."
"But it is a good deal more than any Indian would do for either of us,"
said Will.
"There can be no doubt of that. I never saw any one so grateful as
Hua-awa-oma. I wouldn't be afraid to trust myself among a thousand
Wyandots so long as he was with me."
"I wonder what they are talking about?" whispered George, glancing
sideways at the Indians.
There had been so many arrivals within the last half-hour that the party
now numbered eighteen. Some of these had bows and arrows, but the
majority were armed with the rifle. It proved as Jack had declared.
Although the chief had gone out with his son, each carrying the rude
weapon, yet the moment Hua-awa-oma entered camp, one of his warriors
passed a fine gun to him, taking the bow in exchange.
This occurrence left no doubt that the theory as expressed by young
Gedney was the correct one.
The moment the chief joined the party, all gathered around him, and for
several minutes the conversation was spirited. Nearly every one took
part, but the manner and looks of Hua-awa-oma showed that he was master
there: no warrior dared to dispute any command uttered by him.
George had no more than time to express his wonderment over the subject
of the conversation when the chief finished and turned toward the three
boys, who were still sitting on the log, anxious indeed to hear what he
had to say.
*CHAPTER XVIII.*
*CONCLUSION.*
The Wyandot leader seemed to think he could speak the English tongue
well enough without asking the help of the warrior who had shown such
excellent knowledge of it. Stepping forward in front of the boys, he
took the hand of Jack, and said, while the rest kept silence--
"Hua-awa-oma is friend--Jack can go."
Now was the critical moment. The boy looked up in the face of the
chief, and replied--
"Hua-awa-oma is a great chief; Jack loves him. Hua-awa-oma will let my
brothers go with me; if he does not, the heart of Jack will always be
sad."
It was clear that the sachem had not meant to set the brothers free, but
he proved his gratitude to Jack by granting his request at once, thus
saving a painful scene.
"Will do--will do--for Jack."
"Thank you, thank you," said Jack, bowing his head low, and finding it
hard to keep from shouting for joy.
Poor Will and George were so delighted that they never stopped to say a
word about their rifles, and when Jack started to leave the camp they
were close at his heels.
"Wait," called the chief, and the boys stopped, not without some fear
that the leader had changed his mind.
But he had not. He nodded to one of his warriors, who promptly trotted
forward, carrying the two guns, and handing one to Will and the other to
George. The latter smiled when he noticed that he had them wrong, but
that was of no account.
"Come on," said Jack, who waved a "good-bye" to the chief and the son,
the former smiling and the latter replying with a similar salute. A few
minutes later the young hunters were out of sight in the wood.
They were so eager to get away from camp that they did not stop or speak
until they reached the top of the ridge, where they had parted company
more than an hour before.
When they came to a standstill they were so over-running with delight
that they laughed, and shook hands over and over again.
"May I yell?" asked George, looking as if he was on the point of
exploding with his suppressed happiness.
"No; they would hear it. Some of the warriors would think we were
crowing over them, and they might start after us."
"But Hua-awa-oma wouldn't let 'em. However, I guess they won't hear me;
I can't help it."
Throwing himself on the ground, the youngest member of the party buried
his face in the leaves, and shouted with might and main. His voice was
so muffled that the sounds could not have been heard more than twenty
feet away, so it was safe to believe that it did not reach the ears of
any of the Wyandots, who, had their chief allowed it, would have been
eager to tomahawk all three lads.
After this ebullition had passed the young hunters were able to talk
more coolly. It is not necessary that I should record all their
expressions of delight, which, while natural in those of their years,
can be imagined by you without help from me.
"Now, what are we to do?" asked Will.
"We are out of danger from the Wyandots," replied his brother, "and we
might as well go on our hunt."
"We have father's permission to stay away a couple of nights," added
Will; "but, somehow or other, after what we have passed through, I don't
feel much like it."
"I think we had better go home."
The change in the weather of which I have spoken was more marked than an
hour before. The sky was so clouded that the sun was out of sight, and
the air was chilly. Will looked up at the cold vapour overhead, as
though he supposed that was the reason for Jack's wish to go home.
"That isn't it," he hastened to say, reading their thoughts; "but I am
afraid we are not by a long way through with those Indians yet."
The boys were surprised.
"Hua-awa-oma," he explained, "has come up towards the Ohio to make an
attack on some of the cabins. I don't believe he will go back until he
has done so."
"If that is the case, the most likely ones to suffer will be yours and
ours."
Jack nodded his head.
"It is a queer kind of gratitude that Hua-awa-oma has for you if he
burns down your home, and kills your father and mother. I don't expect
mercy for any of us, for he wouldn't have let us go except for you."
"What I mean is this," explained Jack: "I have heard Simon Kenton speak
of Hua-awa-oma as one of the worst Indians in Kentucky. We know that he
has twenty warriors at least with him, and, as I said, they are not
likely to go home without striking a blow. Hua-awa-oma himself will not
harm any of my folk."
"But he may claim that he didn't know they were yours."
"He can't do that, for he already knows it; but he may let another party
go down there while he and the rest attack your home."
The brothers could not help feeling thankful to the Wyandot leader for
sparing their lives, but their respect for him was much lessened by the
opinion that Jack expressed. However, the danger startled Will and
George, and drove away all wish on their part to continue their hunting
jaunt. There would be plenty of time in the future in which to resume
their sport in the woods.
"We mustn't wait on the road," said Will, gravely; "let us hurry."
Something cold struck the hand of George. He glanced downward, and saw
that it was a snow-flake.
"A snow-storm is coming, sure," said Jack, "and if we don't hasten we
shall lose our way."
Without the sun or any beaten path to help, the boys found it hard work
to keep from going astray; but their former experience in the woods was
of much help, and the distance from home was not great enough to place
them in serious danger. The fall of snow increased, and before long the
flakes were so dense that they could see only a short way ahead.
Good fortune, however, attended the young hunters, and, much to their
delight, they struck the trail leading to the salt lick very near the
spot where they had left it. This was followed until it could serve
them no longer. By this time the snow-fall ceased, and they knew they
were on the right course.
So it proved, and it was early in the afternoon when they came in sight
of the clearing where stood the home of the Burton brothers.
The family, as may be supposed, were alarmed by the tidings. Mr. Burton
had seen nothing of the Wyandots, and if any of them had been prowling
near his home, the dog for once failed to discover them. But no time
was lost in preparing for a hostile visit.
Jack did not tarry, and travelled over the mile of trail leading to his
own house at a faster rate than ever before.
He found his father equally ignorant of the presence of the hostiles.
Hua-awa-oma and his son had not allowed themselves to be seen, though it
was clear they had been close to his cabin. He too made every
preparation for an attack from the war party. He had enough water and
provisions in his house to last the inmates a week, and his wife was
able to handle a rifle with a skill little short of that of her husband.
The afternoon and night passed without anything being seen of the
hostiles. On the morrow the father stealthily left his home, and made a
prolonged scout through the surrounding forest. He came back at
nightfall, with the good news that not a sign of a Wyandot was to be
found. He visited the camp where they had spent a part of the previous
day, but failed to catch a glimpse of a single warrior, and the dreaded
attack was never made.
Toward the close of the last century, General Anthony Wayne was sent by
President George Washington into the West to subdue the combined Indian
tribes, who not only committed many outrages, but had defeated all the
previous expeditions despatched against them.
Among those who served under the famous "Mad Anthony" was Jack Gedney,
then grown to sturdy young manhood. At the famous Treaty of Greenville
the representative chiefs of the powerful Indian confederation agreed to
a peace, which was hardly broken until the war of 1812, nearly twenty
years later.
Our young friend Jack was present at this memorable meeting, and there
met the celebrated leader, Hua-awa-oma, and his son Arowaka, the latter
having grown into a fine warrior.
During the friendly talk that Jack had with these two the father
explained what he meant when, after the boy had spared the life of young
Arowaka, he promised that he would "no hurt people of Jack." The chief
had arranged to destroy the families of both Burton and Gedney, but out
of gratitude to Jack he withdrew the entire party, and went back to his
tribe without firing a hostile shot. The chief and his warriors,
however, fired many such afterwards, but never against a member of the
two families I have named.
And thus it was that the bread which Jack Gedney cast upon the waters in
his youth, when he showed Christian charity toward a helpless foe, came
back to him after many days.
THE END.
Made and Printed in Great Britain by
The Greycaine Book Manufacturing Company Limited, Watford