The Bee Hunters—Drake and Rolla on the Trail—Call of the Tree
Toad—Answer of the Blue Jay.
We left Drake and the two Quicks on the Steneykill, returning with honey.
When they discovered moccasin tracks and heard Rolla’s peculiar bark,
they became alarmed for the safety of those at the cabin, and hurried
forward. Rolla rushed ahead and commenced an uncommon continued howl.
That is a new howl, said Drake.
And has a new meaning, replied Cahoonshee.
They hurried forward and Rolla continued to howl.
When they approached they saw Rolla stretched out at full length on the
ground, and the cat Walt lay dead by his side with an arrow through its
head.
The Great Spirit have mercy on those at the cabin, exclaimed Cahoonshee.
The cabin was soon reached, and there sat Betsy tied to her chair. She
was soon released and the parties informed of the capture of Amy by the
Stockbridge Indians.
Drake was much affected, and tears ran down his cheeks.
Fear not, we will save the girl, said Cahoonshee. You three take the dog
and go in search of the trail. Follow it as long as it goes west, but if
it turns east, send one of your number to me.
Drake and the Quicks shouldered their guns and started, Rolla taking the
lead, and soon found the trail, which went nearly due west, toward the
Mongaup.
It would seem that the Indians made no effort to conceal their trail,
which for a long time puzzled the pursuing party. The sun was now down,
and the darkness of the night over-shadowed the forest. Yet, Rolla with
perfect confidence followed the trail until they came to Mongaup River.
Here the hunters found themselves baffled. They went two miles up on the
east side of the River. Then crossing, searched back to the point where
they commenced, but failed to find any sign of the trail.
Then they resolved to return to the cabin, fill their knapsacks and renew
the search in the morning.
After the hunters left, Cahoonshee went out and shot some rabbits, and
with their brains preserved the skin of the cat Walt.
It was after midnight when the hunters returned. They informed Cahoonshee
of the finding of the trail and losing it again at the Mongaup.
You lost time in searching down-stream, he said. They went up the River
until they found a small stream, then they followed that to its source.
But somewhere between where they reached the River and Mongaup Falls,
they had to leave the River and pass over land. They may have gone up the
Bushkill as far as the Falls. But there they would be compelled to leave
the stream. Fill your knapsacks, and at sun-rise start for the mouth of
the Bushkill. Follow it up to the Falls. From there go to my cabin on
the Steneykill, where I will meet you.
As soon as the day broke, Drake, Tom and Rolla started, and were at the
mouth of the Bushkill at sun-rise. Rolla seemed to understand the object
of the search, and applied his nose to every stone that lay above the
water. He had not been gone long before he gave three loud barks.
He has the trail! Drake fairly screamed.
But Rolla was soon out of sight and was not heard again for some moments.
Then he was heard again and continued barking until Drake and Tom came up
to him at the foot of the falls.
It was evident that they had found the trail. There was the remains of
their camp fire, strewed with fish bones.
What is that? said Tom, pointing to a small rock that leaned against the
side of the mountain.
That, replied Drake, is Amy’s writing:
“Gone to the cave from whence you came. Amy.”
That is plain. Let us go up the Falls and over the ridge to Cahoonshee’s
cabin.
They found Cahoonshee and the elder Quick at the cabin, and a warm
breakfast prepared for them.
Cahoonshee was informed of the finding of the trail and the course it
took.
There is but one more thing to learn, he said. They will cross the river
at Kingston. From here to Kingston there are three trails. The first is
the old Kingston trail. But they will not take that, as there are white
settlers every few miles, and they would not take their captive that way.
The other trails are farther west and are seldom traveled. It will take
them two days longer than if they went by the Kingston trail. We must
try and get to the Hudson ahead of them. The whites are thickly settled
there, and we can get all the assistance we want.
Now, Drake, you, Tom and Rolla take their trail and follow it until you
can determine which route they have taken. Then go direct to the Yah
House, and Quick and I will meet you there.
The boys were soon on the trail and followed it across Handy Hill, then
across the Neversink, then north, until they struck the western trail
leading to Kingston.
At this point they left the trail and took a north-easterly course to the
Yah House, where they arrived late in the evening and found Quick and
Cahoonshee there.
It was then determined to travel direct on the Kingston trail and head
the Indians off before they reached the river. If they failed in this, to
push forward to the cave.
We shall not stop to describe the incidents that happened to the
travelers from the Yah House to Kingston. Suffice it to say that they
traveled as fast as Cahoonshee’s health would permit. When within ten
miles of the Hudson River, they struck north-west, and after going about
two miles, Rolla gave the usual signal that he had discovered where Amy
had walked.
They followed the trail about four miles to a stream that emptied into
the Hudson, and here the trail was lost. The party divided and followed
down both sides of the stream until they reached the river, but no trail
was found.
Cunning dogs! exclaimed Cahoonshee. They have waded up or down stream.
But they will have to come to the shore somewhere. They can’t wade across
the river. They will have to steal a canoe or build a raft. They have
probably gone down stream. Let us follow them.
The sun was just setting, and dark clouds threatened a storm from the
south-west. A vivid flash of lightning lit up the forest and river. Rolla
sprang into the air and gave the usual three barks.
The dog either sees or smells something, said Cahoonshee. Look on the
river when the next flash comes.
Then came a gust of wind that bent the trees nearly to the ground, which
was followed by continuous lightning, and which lit up the river from
shore to shore. About a thousand feet from the shore was plainly to be
seen the canoe containing Amy and her captors.
Our chase is in vain, said Cahoonshee. The canoe cannot float long in
that stream. It will drive them on the rocks at the head of the island.
Let us build a raft and renew the search as soon as the storm is over.