The Delawares immediately set out to find the distant lake, and learn
the identity of the people whom Spotted Deer had seen. They followed the
route which Running Fox had taken several days before, and late the
second day they climbed to the top of the high mountain from which he
had discovered the lake. They judged that the water was about two days’
journey away.
“Does that look like the water you saw!” Running Fox asked Spotted Deer.
“Yes, it is the same,” replied Spotted Deer.
Then he turned toward the west, and pointed out the route which the
unknown war-party had followed.
“Well, if they did not turn off some other way they must be at the water
by now,” declared Running Fox. “It would be foolish, to try to catch up
with them. We must go ahead carefully, and see if we can find their
camp.”
“Yes, that is how I feel about it,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They spent the night on the mountain-top, and at dawn resumed their
journey toward the lake. Later in the day, as they were making their way
through a dense swamp, they heard a harsh cry over their heads. Looking
up they saw a large bald eagle circling slowly above the tree-tops.
Running Fox immediately became excited.
“See, there is Woapalanne!” he cried. “That means a fight. Yes, I saw
him flying around like that before I had the battle with the bear. Do
you hear him calling? Well, that is the war-cry of his people. Spotted
Deer, I believe we are going into some kind of danger.”
“Well, I do not know about those things, but I believe that what you say
is true,” said Spotted Deer.
They watched the eagle with gloomy forebodings, and as it chanced to
disappear into the north their suspicions were strengthened. Running Fox
felt confident that they were about to have an encounter with their
foes.
“We must keep together, and watch sharp,” he warned Spotted Deer.
At the end of the following day they reached the lake. Having seen
nothing of the roving company of warriors that Spotted Deer had
encountered, the lads wondered whether they were encamped somewhere
along the shore of the lake. They determined to take every precaution,
and instead of advancing directly to the lake they stopped on the top of
a low ridge some distance back from the water.
“We will wait here until it gets dark,” said Running Fox. “Then we will
crawl down there, and see if we can find out anything.”
The lake was large, and the Delawares had little doubt that it was the
body of water for which they had been cautioned to watch. They wondered
where the Mohawk camp was located. They believed it was somewhere toward
the north. Still they saw no evidence of it. They searched the sky until
dark, but were unable to find a trace of smoke. Then, as night finally
shut down, they determined to go to the shore of the lake to search for
the war-party.
The Delawares stole down through the silent black woods as softly and as
cautiously as Woakus, the fox. When they reached the edge of the water
they immediately sat down to watch and listen. They had little hope of
finding the telltale gleam from a camp-fire, for they knew that if the
Mohawks were actually on the war-trail they would not dare to expose
themselves in that manner, even in the heart of their own stronghold.
Therefore, when the lads found nothing to alarm them, they advanced
carefully along the shore of the lake. They had gone some distance when
they were astonished to see the light of a fire shining out over the
water. It was far ahead of them near the other end of the lake, and for
some moments the Delawares watched it in silence.
“It must be that those warriors have stopped there,” said Spotted Deer.
“It is mysterious,” replied Running Fox. “If those people are on the
war-trail why do they make a fire?”
The lads were unable to explain it. They had seen the Mohawks painted
for war, and under those circumstances it seemed incredible that they
would dare to make a fire. It appeared as if it must have been lighted
by some one else. Still, that too seemed beyond belief. The Delawares
realized that even a large war-party of enemies would scarcely be so
bold in the domains of their foes. Then Spotted Deer suggested that it
might be a company of warriors from one of the western villages of the
Iroquois.
“Yes, that may be true,” agreed Running Fox. “But there is something
strange about it.”
“What is it?” inquired Spotted Deer.
“Well, these people may he Oneidas or Onondagas,” said Running Fox.
“Perhaps they have come here to talk with their brothers, the Mohawks.
Perhaps they do not know that the Mohawks are on the war-trail. Perhaps
they have not seen any enemies on their journey. Well, if this water is
near the Mohawk village, why did these people stop here? If they are the
same people you saw, then they must have arrived here before the last
sun appeared. Why did they wait here? If they had gone on they would be
pretty close to the Mohawk camp by now.”
“What you say is true,” replied Spotted Deer. “But I will tell you how
it might be. I do not believe these people are Mohawks. I believe I was
wrong about that. I believe that they are Oneidas or Onondagas. Perhaps
they are Cayugas or Senecas from far away toward the place
Where-The-Sun-Goes-To-Sleep. Well, perhaps they have made a long
journey. Perhaps they want to rest. Perhaps the Mohawks do not know they
are here. Then they must wait. Yes, they must send scouts to tell the
Mohawks that they are coming to see them. Then the Mohawks will get
ready a big feast. It is the proper way to do. I believe that is why we
have found them here.”
“Well, I see that it may be as you say,” said Running Fox. “But we will
not find out about it by sitting here and talking. We see a fire. Well,
we must creep up close, and find out who made it.”
“I am ready,” declared Spotted Deer.
They rose and began a daring advance along the edge of the lake. They
moved with great caution, stopping frequently to listen for a warning of
danger. However, the fire was a considerable distance ahead of them, and
they believed that they would be comparatively safe until they got
within bow-shot of it. Then they were startled by a loud splash in the
river.
“What was that?” Spotted Deer whispered, anxiously.
“Sh,” cautioned Running Fox.
They listened many moments but the silence was unbroken.
“Perhaps it was some one paddling a canoe,” said Spotted Deer.
“I believe it was a big fish,” replied Running Fox. “Perhaps it was
Maschilamek, the trout.”
Then, as they heard nothing more, they continued toward the fire. They
had not gone far before they smelled smoke. They knew that the wind was
in their favor. It gave them confidence, for they realized that there
was less likelihood of being heard. A short time afterward they saw a
small light flash across their path. A moment later it appeared at one
side of them. Spotted Deer stopped.
“It is only Sasappis, the fire-fly,” whispered Running Fox.
“He is carrying his torch to frighten the witches out of the woods,”
declared Spotted Deer. “My mother has told me about him. We must be
careful not to harm him.”
A short distance farther on they were halted by the deep ringing notes
of the big horned owl. The call seemed to come from somewhere to the
right of them. It was repeated three times in rapid succession, and the
Delawares immediately became suspicious. A few moments afterward they
heard another owl calling directly behind them. It was so near that they
easily detected a number of false notes in it. They knew it was a
signal, and their hearts filled with alarm.
“We have run into a trap,” Running Fox whispered, savagely. “Come, we
must get to the water. It is the only chance.”
They were close upon the river, but as they turned to reach it they
heard twigs snapping directly ahead of them. Then they realized that
they had been surrounded, and that they must fight against heavy odds to
save themselves. They saw now that the fire was a clever ruse of their
enemies to draw their foes into an ambush. The lads had little doubt
that they were again face to face with the hated Mohawks.
“Stand still!” whispered Running Fox, as they heard some one passing
through the bushes at the edge of the river. “It is dark, and they may
go by us. Then we must rush into the water, and swim to the other side.”
“Let us climb into a tree,” proposed Spotted Deer.
“No, that would be foolish,” replied Running Fox. “These people have
surrounded us. They are close. If we climb into a tree they will know
where we have gone. Then they will wait until it gets light, and kill us
like Wisawanik, the squirrel.”
The next moment a piercing yell rang through the night, and the
Delawares heard their foes rushing forward on all sides of them. For an
instant they stood there, filled with panic. Then Running Fox recovered
his wits, and took command.
“Come, we must fight our way to the water!” he cried.
Fitting arrows to their bows they hurried toward the river. They had not
covered half of the distance, when two stalwart figures rose out of the
darkness to oppose them. An arrow sped close to Running Fox, and the
next instant his own arrow dropped his enemy to the ground. Turning to
call Spotted Deer, he heard him thrashing about in the undergrowth.
Rushing to his assistance, Running Fox found him fighting valiantly for
his life. Running Fox drove an arrow between the shoulders of his
assailant, and as the warrior rolled over the young Delaware stooped and
peered eagerly into his face. He felt sure that he was not a Mohawk, but
he was unable to identify him. Running Fox noted, however, that the
warrior’s face was streaked with charcoal, in token of war. Then the
lads heard their foes closing in upon them, and they realized that they
must be off. As they sped toward the river they heard some one behind
them shouting, “Mengwe! Mengwe!” at the top of his voice.
“Now I know who these people are,” cried Running Fox. “That person
behind us is shouting the Shawnee name for the Mohawks. Yes, this is a
Shawnee war-party. They take us for Mohawks. It is good.”
The Delawares reached the edge of the water in safety, and had waded in
knee-deep when the first Shawnees appeared on the shore. Then, as an
arrow hummed ominously above their heads, the lads plunged forward and
swam furiously to escape from bow-shot. They heard the Shawnees rushing
into the river in pursuit of them, and as soon as they reached deeper
water the Delawares dove from sight. They rose to the surface within
several bow-lengths of each other, far out in the river. They listened a
moment to make sure that none of their foes were within reach of them,
and then they turned and swam toward the opposite shore. They passed
through the water as silently as Winingus, the mink, for they knew that
sharp-eared foes were listening to catch the faintest sound. They heard
a number of signals from the shore they had left, and once they thought
they heard voices within bow-shot of them. It drove them to greater
efforts, and they raced through the water at top speed. However, as they
drew near the shore and found themselves in shallow water they moved
more cautiously. They believed that, having lost sight of them in the
darkness, their crafty foes were listening to hear them leave the water,
and they determined to take every precaution against giving a clue.
“We will swim ahead until we are a long ways above this place,” proposed
Spotted Deer.
“No, that would be a bad thing to do,” Running Fox told him. “If the
Shawnees reach land they will travel faster than we can move through the
water. Perhaps they will send scouts along the edge of the water. Then
it would be hard to get into the woods. We will swim ahead a little
ways, and then we will walk out.”
They swam some distance farther, and then waded ashore. They waited a
moment at the edge of the forest to listen for the Shawnees. The fire
was still burning brightly on the opposite shore, and the Delawares
smiled grimly as they realized how easily they had blundered into the
trap that had been set for their enemies, the Mohawks. Then, as they
feared that the Shawnee swimmers had reached land and begun to search
for them, they turned and sped away into the night.