THE PATH OF DANGER
Both Henry and Shif'less Sol had a clear idea of direction, and they
could lay a line, like a chain bearer, toward the rock fortress, where
they felt sure their comrades were lying in comfortable and hidden
security. But back now in the deep forest the atmosphere of peace and
content that they had breathed in the happy valley was gone, instead it
was surcharged with war and danger.
"I miss our Garden o' Eden," whispered Shif'less Sol regretfully. "We're
already back where men are fightin' an' tryin' to kill."
"I thought perhaps most of the army had already gone south, but there's
the column of smoke as big as ever, and also the second column nearer to
our home."
"An' here's a creek that we'll hev to cross. Looks deep too. Strike a
feller 'bout the middle."
"Maybe we can find a shallower place or a tree that has fallen all the
way across it."
They ran along its bank for some distance, but finding no place where
the water looked shallow plunged in, holding their weapons and
ammunition clear of the surface. As they emerged on the other shore, a
warrior standing in the bushes about forty yards away uttered a shout
and fired at them. But the Indian is never a good marksman and in the
dusk his bullet cut the leaves at least three feet over their heads.
His warning shout and shot was followed by a yell from at least twenty
others who lay about a small fire in a glade a hundred yards beyond.
Thick bushes had hid the coals from the sight of Henry and the shiftless
one and now, taking no time to reply to the bullet of the warrior, who
stood, empty gun in hand, they turned and ran swiftly toward the north,
while after them came the whole yelling pack.
"We've shorely left the Garden o' Eden, Henry," said the shiftless one.
"They didn't do sech things ez these thar in Adam or Eve's times, nor in
ourn. We come purty nigh walkin' plum' into a trap."
"And we've got to shake 'em off. We mustn't run toward the stone hollow,
because that would merely draw 'em down on all of us. We must lead away
to the west again, Sol."
"You're right, Henry, but that confounded creek's in the way. I kin see
it off on the left an' I notice that it's growin' wider an' deeper, ez
it flows on to the Ohio. They've got us hemmed in ag'inst it."
"But Sol, they'll have to do a lot before they catch such as you and
me."
"That's so, Henry. I guess we're right hard to ketch. I'm proud to be a
fugitive 'long o' you."
Henry glanced back and saw the long line of dusky figures following them
through woods over hills and across valleys with all the tenacity of a
pack of wolves pursuing a deer. He knew that they would hang on to the
last, and while he was sure that he and Shif'less Sol could distance
them, if they used their utmost speed, he was in continuous apprehension
lest they stir up some other band or at least stray warriors, as the
forest was full of them. The creek was a bar holding them to an almost
straight line. It was wide and too deep except for swimming, rising
almost to the proportions of a river. Henry calculated too that the
creek did not flow far west of their hollow in the rock, and thus they
were forced, despite their wishes, to run toward the very place they
wished to avoid.
"We've certainly had bad luck," he said to Sol, "and I think we've
stirred up a regular hornet's nest. Hark to that!"
From their right came a swelling war whoop with the ferocious whining
note at the end, and the eyes of the two fugitives met. Each, despite
the dark, could read the alarm in the face of the other. They had not
run out of the trap. Instead the trap was about to be sprung upon them.
With the unfordable stream on one side of them, an Indian band on the
other, and an Indian band behind them their case was indeed serious. The
transition from the Garden of Eden to a world of danger was sudden and
complete.
The band in the rear gave answer to the cry of their comrades in the
west, and Henry and the shiftless one had never before heard a whoop so
full of exultation and ferocity. Henry understood it as truly as if it
had been spoken in words. It said that the fugitives were surely theirs,
that they would be caught very soon, that they would be given to the
torture and that all the warriors should see the flames lick around
their bare bodies.
A red mist appeared before the eyes of Henry. The wonderful peace, and
the kindness toward all things that had enwrapped him, as he lay all day
long in the happy valley, were gone. Instead his veins were flushed with
anger. The warriors would exult over the torture and death of his
comrades and himself. Well, he would show them that a man could not be
burnt at the stake, until he was caught, and it was easy to exult too
soon.
He whirled for an instant, raised his rifle, fired, whirled back again
and then ran on. The whole motion, the brief curve about, and then the
half circle back, seemed one, and yet, as the two ran on, they heard a
warrior utter a death shout, as he fell in the forest.
"I reckon they'll keep back a little when they learn how we kin shoot,"
said Shif'less Sol. "Yes, they're not so close, by at least thirty
yards. Now, how foolish that is!"
The Indians fired a dozen shots, but all their bullets flew wild. Then a
pattering upon leaves and bark, but neither of the flying two was
touched.
"Foolish, so it was," said Henry, "but it was anger too. Now, hark to
that, will you!"
The shots were succeeded by a war cry, again on their right, but much
nearer than before. Henry took a longing to look at the creek, but if
they attempted to ford it the warriors would almost certainly shoot them
while swimming. He and his comrade must make a great spurt to escape
being cut off by the second force.
"Now, Sol," he said, "you're a good runner. So am I, and we need to fly
like deer. You know why."
"I reckon I do."
The speed of the two suddenly increased. They went forward now, as if
they were shot from a bow. Fortunately there were no pitfalls. The
ground was not strewn with vines and brush to entrap them, and seeing
that the two fugitives would be well ahead before the junction of the
two bands could be formed, the band behind them sent forth its war
whoop. But to Henry with his sensitive ear attuned to every shade of
feeling that night the cry was not so full of exultation and triumph as
the one before.
"Afraid the trap will fail to shut down on us," he said to the shiftless
one.
"I read it that way."
"A little faster, Sol! A little faster! We must make sure!"
Fortunately the creek now curved to the left, which enabled them to draw
away from the second band, and both feeling that the crisis was at hand
put forth their utmost powers. Under a burst of magnificent speed the
ground spun behind them. Trees and bushes flitted past. Then they heard
the disappointed yell, as the two bands joined, and the firing of shots
that fell short.
"One danger escaped," breathed Henry as they slackened speed.
"But thar's more to come. Still, I'm glad I don't hev to run so fast fur
a time. It's fine to be a race horse, but you can't be a racin' all the
days an' nights o' your life."
"We must cross the creek some way or other, Sol. I don't think our rock
fortress can now be more than ten miles away and we can't afford to
bring the warriors down on it."
Shif'less Sol nodded. They kept very near to the creek and he noticed
suddenly that the current was shallowing, and had grown much swifter. He
inferred that rapids were ahead, but this was surely the place to cross,
and he called Henry's attention to it. The bank was about six feet above
the water and Henry said instantly:
"Jump, Sol, jump! But be sure that you land squarely on your feet!"
The shiftless one nodded. Certainly a man could not choose a poorer time
to turn an ankle. Without stopping speed but balancing himself perfectly
he sprang far out, and Henry sprang with him. There were two splashes,
as they sank almost to the waists in the water, but they were able to
keep their powder and weapons dry, and in an instant they were at the
far bank climbing up with all the haste of those who know they are about
to become targets for bullets.
They heard the yell of disappointment anew, and then the scattering fire
of bullets. Two or three pattered on the stream, but they did not hear
the whizz of the others, and in an instant they were safely up the bank
and into the forest.
"Hit, Sol?" said Henry.
"Nary a hit. An' you?"
"Untouched."
"Come down straight on your feet in the creek?"
"Straight as straight can be. And you?"
"Split the water like a fish. Wet to the middle, but happy. I reckon we
kin slow down a little now, can't we? I'm a good runner, but I wuzn't
made up to go forever."
"We'll stop a little while in these bushes until we can get the fresh
breath that we need so badly. But you know, Sol, they'll cross the
creek, hunt for our trail and follow us."
"Let 'em come. We ain't hemmed in now, an' with a thousand miles o'
space to run in I reckon they won't git us."
They lay panting in the bushes a full ten minutes. Then their hearts
sank to a normal beat, strength flowed back into their veins, and,
rising they stole away, keeping a general course toward the west. They
went at a rather easy gait for an hour or more, but when they rested
fifteen minutes they heard at the end of that time sounds of pursuit.
The warriors were showing their usual tenacity on the trail, and knowing
that it was not wise to delay longer they fled again toward the west,
though they took careful note of the country as they went, because they
intended to come back there again.
Twice the Indian horde behind them gave tongue, sign that the pursuit
would be followed to the bitter end, but Henry and the shiftless one now
had little fear for themselves. Their chief apprehension was lest they
be driven so far to the west they might not return in time to allay the
doubts and fears of their comrades.
They soon passed from hills into marshy regions which to their skilled
eyes betokened another creek, flowing like its parallel sister into the
Ohio. All these creeks overflowed widely in the heavy spring rains, and
they judged that the swampy territory had been left by the retreating
waters.
"Ez I think I told you before," said Shif'less Sol, "I'm a mighty good
runner. But thar are some things I kin do besides runnin'. Runnin' all
night, even when you slow up a bit, gits stale. Your mind grows mighty
tired o' it even if your feet do plant themselves one after another jest
like a machine. Now, my mind is sayin' enough, so I think, Henry, we
might git through this swamp, leavin' no trail, o' course, an' rest on
some good solid little bit o' land surrounded by a sea o' mud."
"That's right, Sol. It's what we must do, but we must cross to the other
side of the creek before we find our oasis."
"Oasis! What's an oasis?"
"It's something, surrounded by something else," Henry explained. "Come
on now, Sol. Watch your footing. Don't get yourself any muddier than
you can help."
"I'm follerin', steppin' right in your tracks, over which the soft mud
draws the minute my foot has left 'em. I'm glad thar are lots o' bushes
here, 'cause they'll hide us from any warriors who may be in advance o'
the main band."
The creek was not as deep and wide as the other, and they crossed it
without trouble. Two hundred yards further on they found a tiny island
of firm ground set thick with saplings and bushes, among which they
crawled and lay down, until regular breathing came back. Then they
scraped the mud off their moccasins and leggings and sat up on the hard
earth.
"An' so this is an oasis?" said Shif'less Sol.
"Yes, solid ground, surrounded for a long distance by mud."
"An' with saplin's an' bushes so thick that the sharpest eyed warrior
ever born couldn't see into it. Henry, I'm thinkin' that we've found
another little home."
"One that hides us from people passing by, but that does not put a roof
over our heads or give us food to eat."
"Do you care to rec'lect, Henry, that all our venison is gone?"
"Don't talk to me about it now. I know we'll be hungry soon, but we'll
just have to be hungry, and that's all."
"I wish it _wuz_ all. I'm hungry right now, an' I know that the longer
I lay here the hungrier I'll git. I'm lookin' ahead, Henry, an' I see
the time when we'll hev to shoot a deer, even ef thar are ten thousand
warriors in a close ring about us."
"Peep between those vines, Sol, and you can see them now among the
bushes on the far side of the creek."
The shiftless one raised himself up a little, and looked in the
direction that Henry had indicated. There was sufficient moonlight to
disclose four or five warriors who had come to the edge of the swamp and
stopped. They seemed at a loss, as the mud had long since sunk back and
covered up the trail, and perhaps, also, they hesitated because of the
dreaded rifles of the two white men, which might be fired at them from
some unsuspected place. As they hesitated another figure emerged from
the background and joined them.
"Braxton Wyatt!" said Shif'less Sol. "He must hev been in the second
band that come up. Do you think I could reach him with a long shot,
Henry?"
"No, and even if you could you mustn't try. We are well hidden now, but
a shot would bring them down upon us. Let Braxton Wyatt wait. His time
will come."
"Here's hopin' that it'll come soon. I'm beginnin' to feel a sight
better, Henry. Lookin' over all that mud they don't dream that the
fellers they're lookin' fur are layin' here in this little clump o'
bushes, like two rabbits in their nests."
"They won't find us because there is no trail leading here. They'll be
searching the forests on the other side, and we can stay here until they
go away."
"Which would leave us happy ef I wuzn't so hungry. It's comin' on me
strong, Henry, that hungry feelin'. You know that I'm gen'ally a pow'ful
feeder."
"I know it, but this is a time when you'll have to resist."
"I ain't so shore. I notice that them that want things pow'ful bad an'
go after 'em pow'ful hard are most always them that gits 'em, an' that's
me tonight."
"Well, lie close, and we'll see what happens, there's Wyatt within reach
of my rifle right now, and it's a strong temptation to put a bullet into
him. The temptation is just as strong in me, Sol, as it has been in
you."
"Then why don't you do it an' take the chances? We kin git away anyhow."
"For several reasons, Sol. I doubt whether we could get away, and escape
is important not only to ourselves--I like my life and you like
yours--but to others as well. Besides, I can't draw trigger on Braxton
Wyatt from cover. Cruel as he is, and he's worse than the savages,
because he's a renegade, I can't forget that we were boys at Wareville
together."
"Still your bullet, most likely, would save the life o' many a man an'
o' women an' children too. But it's too late anyhow. He's gone, an' them
warriors hev gone with him. By the great horn spoon, what wuz that!"
They had now gone to the extreme eastern edge of their little covert and
a sudden floundering and gasping there startled them. A large black
figure rose up from a dense thicket of alders, pawpaws and small willows
and gazed at them a moment or two with frightened red eyes.
"A bear," exclaimed Shif'less Sol. "Oh, Henry, let me shoot! I kin see
his steaks fryin' over the coals now. Thar's our supper, settin' on its
hind legs not ten feet from us."
"Don't you dare do such a thing!" exclaimed Henry, laughing. "Why, your
shot would bring a whole tribe of Indians down upon us!"
"I know it, but I do want that bear, an' I want to put the
responsibility o' not gittin' him on you."
"All right. I take it. There he goes and your chance, too, is lost."
The bear threshed out of his den, clattered across the mud flats and
entered the forest, whence came in a minute the sound of a shot.
"Thar, the warriors hev got him!" exclaimed Shif'less Sol, deep
disappointment showing in his tone, "and in two or three hours they'll
be cookin' him. An' he was our bear, too. We saw him first. I could see
that he was nice an' fat, even ef it wuz early in the year, an' them
steaks belong to us."
"Maybe they did, but we've lost 'em. Now, I think we'd better keep
quiet. The Indians are probably far ahead of us, thinking that we've
gone that way."
The shiftless one subsided into an indignant silence. The oasis was an
ideal place for two situated as they were, and having the wisdom of the
woods they remained still and quiet in its cover. But after three or
four hours the shiftless one became restless. He was a man of great
strength, and despite his lazy manner, of wonderful bodily activity. It
took much food to satisfy the demands of that powerful frame, and he was
growing hungrier and hungrier. Moreover a light wind began to blow from
the west, bringing upon its edge a faint aroma that caused him to sit up
and sniff inquiringly. The odor grew stronger, and he no longer had need
to ask questions with his nose. He knew, and he knew too well.
"Henry," he said, "thar's our bear jest as I expected. They're cookin'
him, an' it's not so fur away either!"
"I think you're right, but we can't help it. We have to be resigned."
"Mebbe we can't help it, an' then ag'in mebbe we kin, but anyway I ain't
goin' to be resigned. I'm protestin' all the time, 'cause it's my bear.
I saw him first."
The savory odor grew stronger, and the anger and indignation of the
shiftless one increased. And with these two emotions came a third which
hardened into a resolution.
"Henry," he said, "you're our leader, an' we most always do what you
say, but this time I reckon I've decided fur myself what I'm goin' to
do. I'm growin' hungrier an' hungrier. Sometimes I put that hunger down
but in a minute it bounces back up ag'in stronger than ever. It's my
master, gittin' control over ev'ry inch o' me, an' I've got to listen to
what it says. I know I'm makin' a long speech, talkin' like an Injun
chief at a council, but I've got to explain an' make clear ez day why
I'm goin' to do the thing I'm goin' to do."
"Go on, Sol. Talk as much as you please. We've all night before us."
"Which is good. Ez I said, hunger has laid hold o' ev'ry inch o' me, an'
is workin' mighty fast. When I git into that state I'm plum' distracted
on the question o' food, though it makes me smarter an' more keerful
than ever on the ways to git it. I jest wanted to tell you, Henry, that
I'm goin' to leave this oasis an' come back with a load o' them bear
steaks that rightfully belong to me."
"Have you lost your mind, Sol? You'd be killed and scalped in an hour!"
"I knowed you'd say that. That's the reason I come around to it gradual
like, an' in a circle, but Henry, it ain't no use talkin'. I'm goin'. My
mind is clean made up. Besides, I won't be scalped an' I won't be
killed. Jest you lay down an' afore long I'll be back here with my
property."
Henry saw that it was no use to argue. The mind of the shiftless one was
made up, and occasionally he could be as resolute as Henry himself.
"If you're bound to go I can't help it," Henry said. "I don't know your
plan of action, and I won't ask it, but if you don't come back I'll feel
pretty bad, Sol."
"But I'll come back. That's shore. The night has jest this minute turned
darker, which is a sign. Darkness is what I need, an' it tells me that
I'm goin' to git through."
Henry saw his comrade depart with keen regret. He did not look upon him
as lost, because his skill was great. But so was the danger, and he
thought the risk was out of proportion to the purpose. But there was
nothing more for him to say and he watched the shiftless one as he left
the oasis, glided over the mud flat and disappeared in the forest to the
west.
Then came a long and painful wait. Twice he heard the warriors, through
the medium of the wolf's howl, calling to one another, but he did not
believe the cries had any bearing upon the adventure of Shif'less Sol.
Then he heard a faint chorus of yells in the western forest, whence his
comrade had gone, and he knew that something had happened. He was filled
with apprehension, but he could do nothing, except to lie still in the
covert.
The yell was not repeated, but he intently watched the edge of the
forest on all sides except the west. After a while he saw the faint
figure of a man, scarcely a tracery, appear in the north, and then come
skipping like a swift shadow across the flat. His heart did not rise
merely, but took a sudden jump upward. It was the shiftless one
returning to their lair, and doubtless in triumph.
He had not time to think much about it before Shif'less Sol was on the
oasis, crouched among the bushes, laughing low, but in a tone that was
fairly redolent of triumph.
"I done done it, Henry!" he exulted. "I done done it!"
He held up the hind quarter of a bear that had been cooked to a turn
over a bed of coals.
"I haven't tasted it yet," he said, "but jest smell it! Did sech an odor
ever afore tickle your nose? Did your mouth ever afore water so much?
Here, Henry, fall on!"
He took out his knife, cut off a big piece and handed it to Henry, who
began to eat eagerly. Then the shiftless one fell to in like fashion.
"How did you manage it?" he asked.
The shiftless one grinned.
"Didn't I tell you that the sudden darkness wuz a sign favorin' me?" he
said. "Paul is always tellin' about them old Greeks an' Romans not goin'
into battle till they had talked with the omens, mostly the insides o'
cows an' sheep. I believe in signs too. Mine wuz a lot better, an' it
worked. I found that they hed jest finished roastin' the bear on the
coals, after hevin' dressed him an' cut him into four quarters. 'Pears
that most o' 'em hed gone deeper into the woods to look fur somethin'. I
come close up in the bushes, an' began a terrible snarlin' an' yelpin'
like a hull pack o' wolves. The three that wuz left, the cooks, took
torches from the fire, an' run in after me. But I hed flew like
lightnin' 'roun' to the other side, jumped in, grabbed up one o' the
quarters by the leg, an' wuz away afore they could fairly see what had
happened, an' who had made it happen. Then they set up one yell, which I
guess you heard, but I kept on flyin' through the woods to the north,
curved about, came over the mud flats whar no trail kin last a minute,
an' here I am with our bear, or ez much of it ez we want o' him."
"You've done a great deed, Sol. I didn't think you could go through with
it, but you have, and this bear is mighty fine."
"He wuz ourn, an' I wuz bound to hev a part o' him."
"We'll put the rest in our knapsacks and there ought to be enough for
two days more. It relieves us of a great anxiety, because we couldn't go
without food, and we really needed it badly."
"I'm feelin' like two men already. I wonder what the boys are doin' up
thar in the holler? A-layin' 'roun' on the stone floor, I s'pose,
eatin', drinkin' cold water, an' hevin' a good time."
"But remember their anxiety about us."
"I do. They shorely must hev worried a lot, seein' that we've been gone
so long a time. Them are three fine fellers, Henry, Paul with all his
learnin' an' his quiet ways, an' Long Jim, with whom I like so pow'ful
well to argy an' who likes so pow'ful well to argy with me, ez good a
feller ez ever breathed, an' Tom Ross, who don't talk none, givin' all
his time to me, but who knows such a tremenjeous lot. We've got to git
back to 'em soon, Henry."
Henry agreed with him, and then, having eaten heartily they took turn
and turn in sleeping. Their clothing had dried on them, but their
blankets had escaped a wetting entirely, and they were able to make
themselves comfortable.
In the morning Henry saw that the larger column of smoke was gone, but
that the smaller remained, and the fact aroused his curiosity.
"What do you make of it?" he asked Shif'less Sol.
"I draws from it the opinion that the main band with the cannon hez
started off into the south, but that part o' the warriors hev stayed
behind fur some purpose or other."
"My opinion, too. But why has the big force gone and the small one
remained?"
"I can't say. It's too much fur me."
Henry had an idea, but hoping that he was mistaken he did not utter it
just then.
"If the big band has started south again," he said, "and the absence of
the column of smoke indicates it, then all the Indians in this part of
the forest have been drawn off. They've long since lost us, and they
wouldn't linger here in the hope of running across us by chance, when
the great expedition was already on its way."
"That's sound argument, an' so we'll leave our islan' an' make fur the
boys."
They picked a path across the mud flats, recrossed the creek and entered
the deep forest, where the two felt as if they had come back to their
true home. The wonderful breeze, fresh with a thousand odors of spring
in the wilderness, was blowing. It did not come across mud flats, but it
came through a thousand miles of dark green foliage, the leaves
rippling like the waters of the sea.
"The woods fur me," said Shif'less Sol, speaking in a whisper, with
instinctive caution. "I like 'em, even when they're full o' warriors
lookin' fur my scalp."
The forest here was very dense, and also was heavy with undergrowth
which suited their purpose, as they would be able to approach the
hollow, unseen and unheard. Henry still did not like the presence of the
smaller column of smoke, and when he reached the crest of their first
hill he saw that it was yet rising.
"You had a sign last night, and it was a good one," he said to Shif'less
Sol, "but I see one now, and I think it is a bad one."
"We'll go on an' find it."
They approached the hollow rapidly, the forest everywhere being
extremely dense, but when they were within less than a mile of it both
stopped short and looked at each other.
"You heard it?" said Henry.
"Yes, I heard it."
"It wasn't much louder than the dropping of an acorn, but it was a rifle
shot."
"O' course it wuz a rifle shot. Neither you nor I could be mistook about
that."
"And you noticed where it came from?"
"Straight from the place where Paul and Tom and Long Jim Hart are."
"Which may mean that their presence has been discovered and that they
are besieged."
"That's the way I look at it."
"And we must make a rescue."
"That's true, an' we've got to be so mighty keerful about it that we
ain't took an' scalped and burned by the savages, afore we've had a
single chance at makin' a rescue."
The thought in the minds of the two was the same. They were sure now
from the absence of the larger smoke column that the main force had gone
south, but that the smaller had remained to take their comrades, whose
presence, by some chance, they had discovered. They lay closely hidden
for a while, and they heard the report of a second shot, followed by a
mere shred of sound which they took to be an Indian yell, although they
were not sure.
"Ef the boys are besieged, an' we think they are," said the shiftless
one, "they kin hold out quite a while even without our help. So I think,
Henry, we'd better go an' see whether the main camp has broke up an' the
cannon gone south. It won't be so hard to find out that, an' then we kin
tell better what we want to do."
"You're right, of course," replied Henry. "We'll have to leave our
comrades for the time and go to the big camp."
They curved again toward the south and west, keeping to the thickest
part of the forest and using every possible device to hide their trail,
knowing its full necessity, as the day was brilliant and one, unless
under cover, could be seen from afar. Game started up in their path and
Henry took it as new proof that the main body of the Indians had gone.
Deer, scared away by the hunters, were so plentiful that they would
return soon after the danger for them departed. Nevertheless both he and
the shiftless one were apprehensive of wandering warriors who might see
them from some covert, and their progress, of necessity, was slow.
They came to several grassy openings, in one of which the buffalo were
feeding, but Henry and his comrade always passed around such exposed
places, even at the cost of greatly lengthening their journey. At one
point they heard a slight sound in the forest, and being uncertain
whether it was made by an enemy they remained crouched in the thicket at
least a half-hour. Then they heard another faint report in the north and
their keen ears told them it came from a point near the rocky hollow.
"I can't make anything of it," whispered Henry, "except that the boys
are besieged as we feared. I've tried to believe that the shots were
fired by Indians at game, but I can't force my belief. The reports all
come from the same place, and they mean exactly what we wish they didn't
mean."
"But they mean too," said the shiftless one, courageously, "that so long
as we hear 'em the boys are holdin' out. The warriors wouldn't be
shootin' off their guns fur nothin'."
"That's true. Now, we haven't heard that sound again. It must have been
made by a wildcat or a wolf or something of the kind. So let's press
on."
The great curve through the forest took them late in the afternoon to
the site of the big camp. They were sure, long before they reached it
that it had been abandoned. They approached very carefully through the
dense woods, and they heard no sound whatever. It was true that a little
smoke floated about among the dense leaves, but both were certain that
it came from dying fires, abandoned many hours ago.
"You don't hear anything, do you?" asked Henry.
"Not a sound."
"Then they're gone."
Rising from the undergrowth they boldly entered the camp, where perhaps
a thousand warriors had danced and sung and feasted and slept for days.
Now the last man was gone, but they had left ample trace of their
presence. In the wide open space lay the charred coals of many fires,
and everywhere were heaps of bones of buffalo, bear, dear and wild
turkey. Feathers and an occasional paint box were scattered about.
"The feast before the fight," said the shiftless one. "I've a good
appetite myself, but it won't hold a candle to that of a hungry
warrior."
A low snarling and a pattering of many feet came from the surrounding
forest.
"The wolves," said Henry. "They've been here to glean, and they ran away
at our approach."
"An' they'll be back the moment we leave."
"Like as not, but we don't care. Here are the wheel tracks, Sol, and
there is the road they've cut through the forest. A blind boy could
follow the trail of the cannon, and do you know, Sol, I'm bothered
terribly."
"Yes, I know, Henry. We've got to turn back, an' save the boys while
them warriors, with the English an' the cannon, are goin' on into the
south to attack our people."
"And time is often the most precious of all things."
"So it is, Henry."
Henry sat down on one of the logs and cupped his chin in his hands. The
problem presented to him was a terrible one, and he was thinking with
all his powers of concentration. Should he and Shif'less Sol follow and
continue his efforts to destroy the cannon, or return and help their
comrades who might be besieged for a week, or even longer? But it was
likely that Paul, Long Jim and Silent Tom, with all their resources of
skill and courage, would hold out. In the face of a defence such as they
could make it would be almost impossible to force the cleft in the
cliff, and they had some food and of course unlimited water.
They could be left to themselves, while Shif'less Sol and he hurried on
the trail of the Indian army and made their great attempt. Shif'less Sol
watched him, as he sat, his chin sunk in his hand, the deep eyes very
thoughtful. Presently both looked at the column of smoke not more than a
mile away that marked the presence of the smaller camp, the one that had
remained and which was undoubtedly conducting the siege. As they looked
they heard once more the faint report of a shot, or its echo coming down
the wind. Henry stood up, and there was no longer a look of doubt in his
eyes.
"Sol," he said, "those three have been with us in a thousand dangers,
haven't they?"
"Nigher ten thousand, Henry."
"And they never left us to look out for ourselves?"
"Never, Henry."
"And they never would do it, either."
"Never. Warriors, an' fires, an' floods, an' earthquakes all together
couldn't make 'em do it."
"Nor can they make us. We've got to go back and rescue our comrades,
Sol, and then we'll try to overtake their army and destroy the cannon."
"I thought you'd decide that way, Henry. No, I knowed you'd do it."
"Now, we've got to bear back toward the left, and then approach the
cliff."
"An' on our way find out jest what the warriors attackin' it are up to."
They began a new trail, and with the utmost exercise of skill and
caution undertook to reach their comrades.