THE PURSUIT OF THE PURSUERS.
The red-breast, perched in arbor green,
Sad minstrel of the quiet scene,
While hymning, for the dying sun,
Strains like a broken-hearted one,
Raised not her mottled wings to fly,
As swept those silent warriors by.--W. H. C. HOSMER.
The Huron stood a moment as motionless as a statue; then, bending
slowly forward, still holding one hand partly raised as a signal for
the hunter to retain his immobility, he took several steps forward, so
lightly and cautiously that there was absolutely no sound at all
produced. He then sunk slowly downward, and seemed to concentrate all
his faculties into the single one of sight. This lasted but a moment,
when he arose to the upright position, and, turning his head, signified
to O'Hara that he might approach. The latter did so, and immediately
saw the cause of his cautious movements. Drawn up on the bank, so as to
be entirely free of the water, with the bottom turned upward, lay an
Indian's canoe. It was made of bark, beautifully shaped, and it was
evident had not been used for a considerable time.
They silently surveyed this object for some time, when Oonamoo, who had
also been examining the earth around it gave vent to a chuckling,
guttural laugh--a sure sign that he had made some discovery which
delighted him hugely. It would have been an amusing sight for any one
to have seen this expression of pleasure upon the dark, stoical face of
the Huron. There was scarcely a change of his features, but such as was
perceptible would have been mistaken by an ordinary observer as an
evidence that he was undergoing some physical pain.
"What is the matter? what is it that pleases you, Oonamoo?" asked
O'Hara, considerably puzzled to understand the cause.
"Shawnee fool--Miami fool--don't know notting."
"What makes you think so?"
"_He come out dere!_" he replied, pointing at the end of the canoe
which lay nearest the water, and then indulging his characteristic
chuckle again.
As we have hinted in the preceding pages, O'Hara was a most skillful
backwoodsman, having few superiors among those of his own color. When
he chose to exercise his wood-craft, the true cause of his being termed
a lucky hunter was apparent, it being nothing more than his wonderful
skill and shrewdness. But, remarkable as were those qualities in him,
he was by no means equal to the Huron. Those signs, invisible in the
deep labyrinths of the woods to common eyes, were as plain to him as
the printed pages of the book to the scholar. In the preceding chapter,
we have endeavored to give some idea of the skill he displayed when
these qualities were called into requisition. O'Hara, understanding
perfectly the superior ability of his dusky friend, relied upon him to
solve all difficulties that might arise, scarcely making any effort
himself to do so. This will account for his apparent ignorance of the
secrets of the forest, which, perhaps has been noticed by the reader.
"Shawnee fool--Miami fool--don't know notting," repeated the Huron.
"They don't know as much as you, that's sartin; but I've found more
than once they knowed enough to satisfy me."
"_He come out dere_," said Oonamoo, again.
Finding there was little chance of gaining what information he wished
from the Indian, O'Hara set about solving the difficulty himself. The
former having announced that Dernor had left the creek at this point,
it now remained for him to determine by what means he had thrown his
pursuers off the scent, as it was very manifest he had done. The ground
around the canoe was quite wet and spongy, showing the numerous
footprints with considerable distinctness. Among these, it was very
easy to distinguish that of the leader of the Riflemen. The instant
O'Hara saw this, he became aware of the curious fact that it was more
_recent than those of the Indian_, proving that Dernor had _followed
them_, instead of they having followed him! How this was accomplished,
the hunter was at a loss to determine, although, from the expression of
the Indian's face, he knew it was all plain to him.
"Lew has gone over this ground last," said O'Hara, "but how he has done
it, I can't see just now. How was it?"
"_Look under canoe_," said Oonamoo.
O'Hara's eyes opened, as he began to comprehend matters. He carefully
raised one end of the canoe, and saw at once that his leader had lain
beneath it, while his enemies were searching for him. A few words more
from the Huron, and every thing was explained. Believing the reader
will be interested in the description of the ingenious artifice adopted
by the hunter, we here give it as briefly as possible.
It may seem incredible that Lewis Dernor should have been concealed
beneath this Indian canoe, when fully a dozen savages were thirsting
for his scalp, and when it would have appeared the height of absurdity
to think that they would fail to look beneath it. Nevertheless, such
was really the case. It happened in the following manner:
When the Rifleman discovered the canoe lying against the bank, he
sprung from the water, coming upon the frail barken structure with such
force that he perceptibly started the bottom. It thus appeared to have
been deserted for its uselessness. Stepping off of this upon the swampy
ground, he walked about twenty yards up the bank, when he turned to the
left, and approached the water again. The trail which he left was so
distinct that no one could fail to see, he having purposely made it
thus. Instead of taking to the water again, as it would appear he had
done, he merely entered its margin, and then walked backward to the
canoe again, stepping so exactly in his own footsteps, that the wily
Shawnees and Miamis had no suspicion of the stratagem practiced.
Reaching the canoe, he managed to lift it, without changing its
position, when he lowered it again, without making any additional
footprints. This done, he slipped beneath it, drew up his feet, and
confidently awaited the approach of the savages.
In about twenty minutes they came up. The foremost paused, upon seeing
the canoe with its cracked bottom, and were about to overturn it, when
their eyes rested upon the footprints of the fugitive. There was no
need of looking beneath it, for they could see the direction he had
taken. He was going at such speed that they had no time to pause, and
they immediately dashed off in pursuit, the others following suit, like
so many hounds. So soon as he was satisfied they were out of sight, the
Rifleman came from beneath the canoe, carefully setting it back in its
place again, and struck off in the woods at a more leisurely gait.
"All safe--nebber git on track agin," said Oonamoo.
"Don't believe they will. By gracious! but I should hate to try that
trick of Lew's. Just s'pose they had looked under! it would have been
all up with him. I daresn't use such means, 'cause I haven't got legs
enough, for emergencies. Where does the trail lead to now, Oonamoo?"
"Where gal hid--go get her now--Injin know notting about it."
"I s'pose Lew will take his time now, as he knows he's got the dogs off
his track."
"Go slow little ways--then run fast--want to see gal."
The Huron certainly displayed some knowledge of the workings of the
heart when he remarked, in substance, that, although the lover might
proceed at a moderate gait for some distance, it would not be long
before the thoughts of Edith would urge him to as great exertions as he
had displayed during the height of the chase. True to what he had said,
O'Hara noticed that his footsteps gradually lengthened until it was
manifest that he had been "letting himself out" again.
It was now getting well along in the afternoon. The Huron struck into a
sort of a compromise between a walk and a trot, he being anxious to
make what progress he could before darkness set in. They had come too
far to overtake Dernor and Edith the next day, and O'Hara began really
to believe that the two had reached the settlement by this time. Upon
mentioning this supposition to Oonamoo, the latter shook his
head--meaning that all danger had not been overcome by the fugitives.
The woods were too full of Indians, and the settlement was too far away
for them to accomplish the rest of their journey without danger.
Objects were just growing indistinct, when O'Hara and the Huron came
upon the bushes where Edith had been concealed. They saw that Dernor
had approached on the opposite side from which he had left it, and that
upon being rejoined by his charge, he had once more started northward,
as if his desire was still to remain above his enemies, and avoid, as
much as lay in his power, all probabilities of encountering them.
"I s'pose we've got to lay on our oars, as the sailors say, till
daylight," said O'Hara.
The Huron looked at him, as if he failed to comprehend him, and he
added, in explanation:
"There being no light, of course we can't see their tracks, and will
have to wait till morning."
"No wait--go on all night."
"How will you do that?"
"Oonamoo know which way dey go."
"I don't deny that, but, smart as you are, I don't believe you can see
a trail on such a night as this."
"Don't want to see trail--know which way go--go up, then go off toward
settlement."
O'Hara understood that the Huron had formed his idea of the general
direction which the Rifleman had taken, and intended to follow him in
this manner. Being thoroughly well acquainted with the country, there
was no difficulty in doing this; and, without pausing to think of drink
or food, the two resumed their pursuit as hopefully and confidently as
though the matter were already settled.
To follow up thus persistently one of the most skillful border-men of
the period, with the desire of assisting him in whatever strait he may
have gotten himself, would have been the acme of absurdity upon the
part of those undertaking it, and would have gained for them no thanks
for attempting it, had the circumstances been difficult. But,
incommoded as he was by the charge of Edith, and environed by enemies,
it could hardly be expected that he would come through unscathed. His
enemies, fully aware of the difficulties of his situation, undoubtedly
were using every endeavor to thwart him, it being certain that they
were aware of his identity. To have captured the leader of the Riflemen
of the Miami would have been a feat of which even a war-party would
have been proud, and the Huron well knew they would not give over their
efforts until he was absolutely beyond their reach. This was the reason
why he was so anxious to press forward as far as it would be prudent to
venture during the darkness.
By midnight the two had reached a point above which the Huron believed
the fugitives would not go; and being unable to determine the precise
course which they had taken after this, they concluded to wait until
daylight before going further. Accordingly they lay down on the ground,
both dropping to sleep immediately, and both waking at precisely the
same moment, just as the light of the day was appearing.
A half-hour's search discovered the trail of their friends within
several hundred yards of where they had slept--thus close and exact had
been the calculation of the sagacious Huron. He and O'Hara now began to
entertain hopes that, after all, the fugitives had succeeded in
reaching the settlement. The latter, at the most, was not more than
twenty miles distant; and, had Dernor been allowed the entire night to
travel, he could have safely reached it. A critical examination of his
footprints, however, revealed the fact that they had not been made more
than twenty hours before. If he had reached the settlement, therefore,
he must have done it in the latter part of the preceding day.
The two now pressed on with all haste. They had gone scarcely a
half-mile, when both made a startling discovery. Numerous
moccasin-tracks became suddenly visible, and O'Hara needed no prompting
to understand that the persistent Indians were again upon the trail of
the fugitives. How they had succeeded in regaining it, after being so
cleverly misled, was a mystery. The Huron accounted for it only upon
the supposition that they had come upon it by accident. A slight
comparison of the two trails by Oonamoo showed that the savages were
close behind their friends--so close that they could overtake them ere
they could reach their destination--the settlement.