A TRAP AVOIDED AND FRIENDS DISCOVERED
At Réné's cry, suppressed though it was Has-se turned quickly, and in
time to see the moccasin glide away through the water. He also noted
the spot of blood on his companion's finger, at which the latter was
gazing with a look of horror.
Without a word the young Indian sprang to Réné's side, drew the little
sharp-pointed dagger from its sheath, and firmly but deliberately
enlarged with it the minute wound made by the fangs of the snake, until
the blood flowed freely from it; then raising the hand to his own
mouth, he sucked all that was possible of the poisoned blood from the
wound, stopping several times during the operation to rinse his mouth
with water.
When this was done he took a handful of slimy river mud and placed it
over the wounded place, bidding his friend hold it there. Then,
seizing his paddle, he turned the bow of the canoe up-stream in the
direction from which they had come. He paddled back to a small lagoon
that emptied into the stream, and in which he had noticed a peculiar
species of water-lily growing as they passed it on their way down.
Pulling a handful of these up by the roots, he selected one of the
bulbs attached to them, pounded it until it was a mass of fibre, and
washing the river mud from the wounded hand, he replaced it with this.
The hand had already swollen and become very painful, but the
application of the bruised lily-root acted so like a charm that Réné's
face showed an instant sense of relief, and he expressed his gratitude
to Has-se.
"It is nothing to do," replied the other. "It is but the remedy of my
people for such things." Then he added, with a sort of pride,
"The pale-faces are wise in many matters that we poor red men know
nothing of; but we have at least learned that for every evil there is a
remedy close at hand, and that wherever poisonous serpents are found
there also grows a plant that will render their poison harmless. In a
short time thy hand will be as sound as before it laid hold of
Chitta-wewa, the great water-snake."
"Tis marvellous!" exclaimed Réné; "and if thou wouldst return with me
to France, bringing with thee a few of these samples and thy knowledge
of their application, thou wouldst become a great medicine-man and
obtain much honor of my people."
Has-se only shook his head and smiled at this suggestion; then he said,
"For a time thou must lie perfectly quiet, and keep that upon thy hand
wet with cool water. Meantime I will carry out a plan of which I have
just conceived the idea. Near by, from the head of this lagoon, there
runs a narrow trail by which a great bend in the stream is cut off, and
a point much lower down upon it is reached. If thou wilt remain here
and nurse thy hand, I will cross to the lower stream by this trail; and
it may be that I will thus gain more speedy information concerning
those whom we follow."
Réné at once agreed to this plan, and was soon left alone to nurse his
hand and meditate upon his present strange position. From his savage
surroundings his thoughts ran back to the uncle whom he had left in
Fort Caroline to battle with sickness, and possibly with starvation and
the upbraidings of his own men. The boy's heart was full of tenderness
for the brave old soldier who had so promptly assumed the part of a
father towards him; and had he not been restrained by the consciousness
of the vital importance of the mission he had undertaken, he would have
been inclined to return at once and share whatever trials were
besetting the chevalier. From him the boy's thoughts sped to France
and the old chateau in which he was born. He almost laughed aloud as
he imagined the look of consternation with which old François would
regard him if he could now see him, lying alone in a fragile craft,
such as the old servant had never imagined, in the midst of a terrible
wilderness of great moss-hung trees, queer-looking plants, black
waters, and blacker mud.
From these reveries he was suddenly startled by the sound of a slight
splash in the water and a subdued human voice. Raising his head very
cautiously above the side of the canoe, Réné caught a glimpse, at the
mouth of the little lagoon in which his own craft was concealed, of
another canoe, in which were seated two Indians. It was headed
up-stream, but its occupants had paused in their paddling, and from
their gestures were evidently considering the exploration of the very
place in which he lay hidden from them. In one of them Réné recognized
the unwelcome face of Chitta the Snake, but the other he had never
before seen.
With a loudly beating heart and almost without breathing he watched
them, thankful enough for the shelter of broad lily-leaves that raised
their green barrier in front of him. He was fully conscious that upon
the result of the conversation the two were holding, in such low tones
that he could not distinguish a word, depended his own fate. He knew,
from what Has-se had told him, that Chitta regarded him as an enemy,
and he knew also that for his enemies an Indian reserves but one fate,
and will kill them if he can.
Thus it was with the feeling that he had escaped a mortal peril, and
with a long-drawn sigh of relief, that he saw the discussion come to an
end, and the strange canoe continue on its course up-stream. It
disappeared in the direction from which he and Has-se had come before
encountering the moccasin. Then he became feverishly impatient to
leave a place that seemed so full of danger, and he longed eagerly for
Has-se's return.
Although Réné watched anxiously for Has-se, he also cast frequent
glances towards the stream, fearful lest Chitta and his companion
should again appear. Thus he was not looking when his friend emerged
from the forest, and did not hear the light tread of his moccasined
feet. Nor was he aware of any presence near him, until a low laugh,
which so startled him that he almost upset the canoe, gave the first
hint of his friend's return.
"Oh, Has-se!" he exclaimed, in a whisper rendered hoarse by his
excitement, "glad am I to see thee once more. Chitta is in pursuit of
us, and with him is as evil-looking an Indian as ever I saw, but large
and powerful withal."
Then he related the whole incident of the appearance of the strange
canoe, to which Has-se listened with grave attention.
When Réné had finished he said, "Has-se also has something to tell.
Far down the river, on the side opposite the end of the trail, he heard
the sound of many voices, and he knows his people are there. Let us go
to them."
"But if we venture out into the stream, will not Chitta and the one
with him see us?"
"If they do not until we float on the river, they must prove themselves
swifter than Hu-la-lah" (the wind) "to catch us before we reach
friends. How is thy hand? Is the sting of Chitta-wewa still painful?"
"Oh! my hand? Why, no; I had no thought of it until now. Thanks to
thy application, the pain and the swelling seem alike to have been
removed."
"Then let us go, and if it comes to meeting Chitta, we will see if we
cannot render his sting as harmless as that of his namesake
Chitta-wewa."
Very cautiously the two boys paddled their canoe out from the lagoon,
and headed it down the narrow river towards the place where they hoped
to find friends.
Having reached the stream in safety, they were about to congratulate
each other on their good-fortune, when suddenly a wild scream, such as
is made by an enraged panther, came ringing down through the dark
forest glade behind them.
"It is the yell of Cat-sha the Tiger, chief of the Seminoles!" cried
Has-se. "For the Snake, with the Tiger to aid him, we are no match.
If those white arms of thine have strength in them, now is the time to
prove it, Ta-lah-lo-ko."
With this the two boys bent over their paddles, and plied them with
such energy that their light craft fairly hissed through the water, and
flew past the gray, motionless columns of the cypresses. Not far
behind came their pursuers, also straining every muscle, and already
exulting over the prize that was so nearly within their grasp.
Cat-sha and Chitta had become impatient of waiting in their ambush for
those who failed to come, but who they knew had been following them,
and they finally decided to cautiously retrace their course in order to
learn, what had become of them. At the mouth of the lagoon in which
Réné had awaited Has-se's return they paused, undecided, for a moment.
From the very trail taken by Has-se there branched another, which led
to the distant Seminole fastness in the heart of the great swamp.
Cat-sha at first thought they would do well to examine this trail; for
if it should prove to be some of his own band of whose canoe he had
caught a glimpse, he would surely discover traces of them here.
Chitta, however, said that those who had followed them might chance to
pass on unnoticed while they were in the lagoon. It would be time
enough to examine the trail after they had been back as far as the
bayou, and made certain that nobody was between them and it. Happily
for Réné de Veaux, this counsel had prevailed, and they had gone on up
the stream.
It was while on their return from the bayou that they had caught sight
of the two boys just leaving the lagoon, and that Cat-sha had uttered
his war-cry with such startling effect.
Even at the distance they were, both he and Chitta had seen the
Flamingo Feather braided in Has-se's hair, and had also recognized the
peculiar costume worn by him whom they knew as the son of the great
white chief.
Faster and faster flew the two canoes in their race of life or death
down the narrow stream. That of the two boys was the lighter, but the
other, impelled by the powerful strokes of the gigantic Cat-sha, kept
pace with it from the outset, and at length began slowly to gain upon
it. Foot by foot, closer and closer, it came, and as the labored
breath of the panting boys came shorter and quicker, while the
perspiration rolled in great beads from their faces, it seemed as
though they were moving at a snail's pace, and they knew that the
unequal struggle could not last much longer.
Suddenly Has-se paused from his labor for an instant, and placing a
hand to his mouth, uttered a long, tremulous cry, so wild and shrill
that it roused the forest echoes for miles around.
He had hardly resumed his paddle, after a quick backward glance that
showed the other canoe to be fearfully near them, when his cry was
answered by one precisely similar, uttered only a short distance ahead
of them.
In another minute an arrow from behind whizzed so close to Has-se's
head that it cut the red feather from his hair, and passing on, it
buried itself in Réné's shoulder. At the same instant a canoe filled
with Micco's warriors appeared around a point ahead of them, and the
two hunted and exhausted boys, seeing it, knew they were saved.