The Delawares had not gone far the following day before they came upon
an inviting eddy in the river, and as the day was unusually warm they
determined to loiter for a swim. The water was cool and refreshing, and
they splashed about in great delight. Spotted Deer especially enjoyed
it, for the cold water felt very soothing to the burning gashes he had
received from the panther. In spite of their frolicking, however, the
lads kept a sharp watch for foes. They soon saw the necessity of it, as
Running Fox suddenly looked up the river and discovered something which
caused them to scramble frantically to the shore.
A bark canoe had suddenly appeared around a bend of the river, and was
drifting slowly toward them. The lads watched it with great uneasiness.
It appeared to be unoccupied and abandoned. Still the suspicious
Delawares feared a trap. “Perhaps some one is lying down inside of it,”
suggested Spotted Deer.
“Well, we will soon be able to find out about that,” replied Running
Fox.
They studied the approaching canoe with great attention, but were unable
to tell to what tribe it belonged. Running Fox had been well trained in
the art of observing, and his sharp eyes soon told him enough to quiet
his fears.
“See, it sits high in the water,” he told Spotted Deer. “If any one was
inside it would be low down and heavy.”
“Yes, that is true,” agreed Spotted Deer. “But some one may be swimming
on the other side of it.”
“No, I do not believe it,” said Running Fox. “It does not tremble, and
it leaves no trail.”
Satisfied, therefore, that the mysterious canoe was deserted, the
Delawares wondered how they might gain possession of it without exposing
themselves to discovery. They feared that crafty foes might be watching
from ambush, and they hesitated to show themselves.
“See, it is moving toward land,” Running Fox whispered, excitedly.
A short distance below them a narrow gravelly beach reached far out into
the water, and they noticed that the canoe was drifting directly toward
it. They watched eagerly until the canoe finally struck upon the
projecting point of land. Then, as the canoe swung slowly about with the
current, they realized that they must act quickly to secure it.
“I will go out and catch it,” said Running Fox.
He skulked through the bushes as cautiously as a fox. When he reached
the spot where the canoe had struck he stopped to search the river for
foes. Then he saw the canoe swinging stern foremost down the river. He
realized that in another moment it would be beyond his reach. Throwing
caution to the winds, Running Fox rushed boldly into the water and
seized the prize. As he had guessed, it was unoccupied. As he drew it
toward him it left a tell-tale mark in the gravel. However, he made no
attempt to erase it, for he hoped that any one following on the trail
would find it and be deceived. It made it appear that, having lodged for
a time at that spot, the canoe had finally floated free and drifted down
the river.
Once in actual possession of the canoe, Running Fox signaled for Spotted
Deer to join him. They waded with the prize until they found a safe
hiding place, and then they dragged it into the bushes. They had found a
long hickory bow and a buckskin quiver filled with arrows in the bottom
of the canoe.
“This is very strange,” said Running Fox, as he examined the weapons.
The lads saw at once that they were different in pattern from their own,
and they had little doubt that they were of Iroquois design. Still they
were not sure. They stared at them in amazement. The whole affair was a
great mystery. They would have given much to know how far the canoe had
come, and how the weapons happened to be in it.
“Whoever left these things in that canoe was very foolish,” said Spotted
Deer.
“Well, I see that he kept the paddle,” replied Running Fox.
“That is true, I did not see that,” said Spotted Deer.
At first the Delawares were inclined to keep the weapons, and hide the
canoe in the woods until they returned down the river on their way to
the Delaware camp. It would have been a splendid trophy, and they
dreaded to lose it, but Running Fox finally decided to set it adrift.
“This canoe has floated away, and some one will come down here looking
for it,” he said. “If they do not find it, they will become suspicious.
Perhaps they will look for our trail. We have a long journey to make,
and we are in great danger. We will not take any chances. Come, we will
keep the weapons, and give up the canoe.”
“You are the leader, I will do as you say,” Spotted Deer said,
resignedly. “But if some one comes after this canoe they will miss the
weapons.”
“We will fool them about that,” laughed Running Fox.
They carried the canoe to the water, and as they set it adrift Running
Fox overturned it with his foot. Spotted Deer laughed as he saw the
reason for the wily bit of stratagem which would make the owner of the
canoe believe that his weapons were somewhere at the bottom of the
river. They watched until the canoe floated slowly from sight around a
bend of the shore.
“Now we must hide, and watch to see who comes after it,” said Running
Fox.
They concealed themselves in the bushes, and began to watch the river.
All day they remained there, as alert and patient as a lynx waiting for
prey. Nothing escaped them. Their eyes caught every movement, their ears
heard every sound.
“I do not believe any one will come,” said Spotted Deer, after they had
watched a long time in vain.
“We must wait,” Running Fox told him.
Then, toward the end of the day, their patience was rewarded. They saw a
second canoe coming swiftly down the river. They saw at once that it was
similar in pattern to the one that had preceded it. It was guided by two
sturdy paddlers, whom the lads recognized even at a distance as Mohawk
warriors. It was not the first time that the young Delawares had seen
those fierce fighters, for several had been captured and brought to the
village by Delaware scouts. Now, however, they looked upon them with
different emotions. The lads felt their hearts pounding wildly against
their ribs as the Mohawks approached, but they had concealed themselves
with great care and they had little fear of being discovered. At any
rate there was no chance to retreat.
“We must keep very quiet,” cautioned Running Fox.
The Mohawks kept to the middle of the river, while they watched the
shore for signs of the missing canoe. As they passed, the lads studied
them closely. The warrior in the stern of the canoe was a powerful
middle-aged man of threatening appearance, but his companion looked more
youthful and pleasing of countenance. They turned the canoe toward the
beach, and the Delawares wondered whether they would discover the mark
in the gravel. They were not long left in doubt, for they saw the
younger warrior pointing toward the spot, and talking excitedly to his
companion. The latter seemed suspicious. It was apparent that he was
watching the shore. Then he said something, and they moved slowly toward
the beach. They spent some time studying the mark in the gravel, and the
Delawares watched them in painful suspense. They wondered whether the
crafty Mohawks would really be deceived by the stratagem of Running Fox.
However, they soon saw that it had been successful, for the paddlers
pushed out into the current and disappeared down the river.
“We have fooled those warriors,” laughed Running Fox.
“I could have sent an arrow into them,” said Spotted Deer.
“That would have been very foolish,” Running Fox told him. “Perhaps you
would not have killed them, and they would have gone back and told their
people what had happened. No, we are in a dangerous country, and we must
not let them know about us. If they see us it will be hard to get near
their camp. The fox does not jump at the bear when he steals to his
lodge for meat.”
“That is true,” agreed Spotted Deer. “Well, I will be very cautious.”
“Pretty soon those warriors will come back,” said Running Fox. “We must
watch sharp.”
As the evening shadows were settling upon the forest the Mohawks
returned with the missing canoe. They passed close to the shore, and the
Delawares had a splendid view of them. They saw that the faces of the
canoemen were streaked with black.
“Those warriors are painted for war,” said Running Fox, after the
paddlers had passed from hearing.
“Yes, I saw the black marks across their faces,” replied Spotted Deer.
“Who are they going to fight?”
“I do not know,” Running Fox declared, uneasily. “We must find out.
Perhaps they are getting ready to fight our people. We will follow
them.”
They waited until they felt sure that the Mohawks were a safe distance
ahead of them, and then they left their hiding place, and followed
cautiously up the river. They soon came in sight of the canoes, and
trailed them until darkness finally blotted them from sight. Then the
Delawares were puzzled. They had expected the Mohawks to stop at the end
of the day. The fact that they still continued their journey made the
lads believe that they were either in a great hurry, or else were making
toward some familiar camp-site near at hand. The latter possibility
induced the Delawares to follow on the trail. They hurried along within
sound of the water, straining their eyes to catch the warning flicker of
a camp-fire. However, as the night wore on, and they failed to get any
trace of the mysterious canoemen, the Delawares began to realize that
they were exhausting themselves in vain.
“It is foolish to keep going,” declared Running Fox. “Perhaps those
warriors will not stop before it gets light. Perhaps they will stop, but
if they do not make a fire we cannot find them. They are painted for
war. Warriors on the war-trail do not make fires. If we try to go ahead,
we may pass them. That would make things bad for us. I believe the best
thing to do is to stop until it gets light.”
“Yes, I believe it will be the best thing to do,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They turned from the river, and reconnoitered carefully through the grim
black wilderness in search of a safe stopping place for the night. They
finally found suitable shelter in a thick stand of pines on the summit
of a rocky knoll directly above the river.
“This is a good place,” said Running Fox. “When it gets light we will be
able to see a long ways along the water. Perhaps we will find the
Mohawks.”
They determined to keep a sharp watch until daylight, for they feared
that their foes might be nearer than they supposed. It was agreed that
one should remain on guard while the other slept. Spotted Deer said that
he would take the first watch. He had not been long on guard when he
heard the weird serenade of Gokhos, the owl. Acting upon the impulse of
the moment he placed his hands to his mouth, and gave a perfect
imitation of the call. Running Fox sprang up at the sound.
“What was that?” he inquired, anxiously.
“I am talking with Gokhos,” laughed Spotted Deer.
“You are very foolish,” said Running Fox, as his eyes flashed angrily.
“Warriors do not cry out like children when there are enemies about to
hear. Perhaps what you heard was a signal. I have heard my father tell
how the Mohawks use the voice of Gokhos to call one another. You have
done a bad thing.”
Spotted Deer accepted the rebuke in silence. He suddenly realized the
peril of his act. It filled him with shame. He could offer no excuse.
“Running Fox, I see that I have done a very foolish thing,” he said. “I
did not think about it. Now I see that it may get us into trouble. I
feel very bad.”
“We will not talk any more about it,” said Running Fox.
They listened anxiously, and in a few moments they heard the call of
Gokhos again echoing through the forest. It seemed to come from farther
up the river. The notes sounded perfectly natural, but Running Fox was
suspicious.
“I believe it is Gokhos,” said Spotted Deer.
“Perhaps,” replied Running Fox.
A short time afterward the cry was repeated nearer at hand, and Running
Fox looked at Spotted Deer and smiled.
“Perhaps Gokhos is coming to talk with you,” he said. “I believe it will
be better to move away.”
As they retreated cautiously into the night, the weird, mocking cry
again came to them through the darkness. Running Fox strained his ears
to find a flaw in it, but it sounded genuine. Still he was distrustful.
“Well, perhaps it is only Gokhos,” he told Spotted Deer, “I do not hear
anything wrong with it, but I do not feel right about it. We have seen
the Mohawks. They were painted for war. We are in their country. We must
not be too bold.”
As he finished speaking they were surprised to hear Gokhos calling from
somewhere down the river. For a moment it allayed their suspicions, for
they realized that only Gokhos himself could have moved so rapidly. Then
they heard the other cry farther to the northward, and their fears were
strengthened.
“Now I believe it is the Mohawks calling one another,” declared Running
Fox. “We will stay here, and watch until it gets light.”