ZANY OR LUNATIC.
In no respect did the Indian display his matchless coolness more
strikingly than when, amid the terrific exertion he was compelled to put
forth, he never ceased his doleful singing, if such it may be called. It
continued, indeed, while he was paddling directly against the current,
until, when one of his strains was half complete, it ceased abruptly, as
if cut in two.
At the same moment the prow of the craft was turned to the left, and,
shooting across the brief space, slid a few inches up the sloping beach.
It was evident that his keen eye had detected the recent presence of
persons there, and with far less fear of them than they had of him he
proceeded straightway to investigate matters.
By this time the boys were less inclined to run. The spiritual edge, so
to speak, had worn off, and they saw that it was a material creature
before them--a genuine red man, with some of whom they had had
experience, especially during the preceding hours. They had become
accustomed to that business, and could view it with comparative
calmness, inasmuch as each held a loaded rifle in his hand.
Wharton gently touched the shoulder of his companion as an appeal to him
not to speak or make any sound. The two rose noiselessly to their feet
and watched the strange being's actions.
The prow of the canoe having been forced far enough up the stony slope
to hold it motionless, the Indian laid down his paddle, leaned forward,
took the torch in hand, and then stepped from the boat. The torch was a
piece of resinous pine, whose top leaned so far over the gunwale that
there was no danger from the smoking flame. With this in his left hand
he looked down at the embers of the late fire, some of them still giving
forth a faint blue smoke, and he saw the few remaining fragments of the
meal.
With much deliberation he gazed out over the moonlit lake, gradually
coming back to such a position that when he peered into the gloomy depth
of the woods his eyes seemed to be centred on the spot where the two
boys looked silently and wonderingly at him in turn.
The strange being had no gun, but a knife and tomahawk protruded from
the belt around his waist. He was dressed similarly to the Shawanoes
whom they had encountered so recently, and there could be little doubt
that he belonged to their tribe.
No figure could be more picturesque than that formed by this creature
when he raised the flaming torch aloft, bent his head down and craned it
forward, while his black eyes seemed to pierce the impenetrable gloom
from whence the boys silently watched him.
His face was smeared in the truly frightful manner of his people, and
his countenance and features were so irregular that he was forbidding to
the last degree. He stood with one foot advanced, his attitude
suggesting that of a man pausing on the edge of a ravine and peering
across before venturing to leap.
He maintained this attitude for several minutes, as motionless as those
toward whom he was staring. It seemed to Wharton that his flaming black
eyes could look through solid wall or rock, and the youth held his gun
ready to meet any sudden rush from him.
But he did not advance. Suddenly he resumed his weird chanting, and then
began a fantastic dancing back and forth over the rock, keeping rude
time by swaying the torch and the free arm. The exhibition was so
grotesque that the spectators surmised the truth.
The explanation of it was that the Shawanoe was a zany or lunatic. The
latter is as rare with the American race as it was with the African in
the South before the war, but on no other theory could the course of the
Indian be explained.
Neither Wharton nor Larry held a thought of harming him. Had he been
Blazing Arrow himself they would not have done so, except in
self-defence. Believing him harmless, they would have been glad to act
the part of a friend toward him.
Instead of seeking out those who had started the fire, the warrior
returned to his canoe, carefully adjusted the torch in its place, shoved
the boat clear, leaped into it, caught up his paddle, and sent his craft
spinning along the left bank, seemingly with the speed of a swallow on
the wing.
"He's not a ghost," exclaimed Larry, "but he's crazy clear through.
Where has he gone?"
The two stepped to the edge of the water and looked in the direction
where the boat had disappeared. A short distance away the shore made a
curve, and it was this, evidently, which shut the Indian and canoe from
sight. It would have taken rapid motions, but the paddler had proved his
expertness in that.
The occurrence caused the boys to forget their drowsy, tired feeling.
They became as alert and wide awake as during the day.
"Larry, let's push on and around the lake. I'm worried now about father
and mother, and it won't do to lose more time."
"I'm as willing as yersilf."
The rocky shore made travelling easy, and they walked with greater
freedom than at any time since leaving the vicinity of the falls. The
younger kept his place a few paces in advance, and had not gone far when
he stopped again with the exclamation:
"Here's the crazy man again!"
He was not exactly right, for instead of the Indian he saw the canoe
drawn up against the rocky shore, as in the previous instance. The
paddle was there, but the Indian and torch were missing.
"I wonder what that means?"
"Maybe he has grown tired and gone ashore to rest awhile."
It did not seem likely that the fellow was far away, and they looked
curiously in every direction. He had not resumed his chanting after
leaving the scene of the boys' camp, and he was nowhere in sight.
There is no telling what fancy may enter the head of a lunatic, and,
much as the couple would have disliked to harm him, they were always
ready to defend themselves.
Doubtless it was the sight of the fire by which Wharton cooked the fish
that led the Shawanoe to paddle his craft across the lake. It is not
likely that the whole performance was meant to frighten away the
intruders.
"I don't think we have anything to fear from him," remarked Wharton,
after they had waited several minutes; "we may as well use our time in
pushing on."
"It's a long thramp we have before us."
The two looked up the lake toward the end where the wild waters rushed
through the gorge. The outlook was discouraging, for, light as was the
moonlight, they could see nothing of the dark line of forest which must
have marked the uttermost boundary.
Wharton drew a deep sigh.
"I'm tempted to turn back; we can follow the stream and find the trail
again, while now there's no telling where we may bring up."
"I've a better idea," said Larry, with a chuckle.
"What's that?"
By way of answer he pointed to the canoe, whispering:
"The paddle is there."
"We'll do it; it will save us a good deal of hard work, and perhaps
prevent our going astray. But the owner will be likely to object."
"How can he help himself?"
"All right; in with you; there's no saying when he'll be back again."
Larry Murphy was as deft in handling the paddle as his companion, and at
the same moment shoved the prow clear and leaped in. He made a couple of
sweeps with the implement, which sent the boat far out over the gleaming
surface.
It was well that they were so prompt in their movements, for the next
minute the red man burst from the woods, and came rushing and chattering
toward them as if he intended to overhaul them by swimming. His words
were unintelligible, being in his native tongue, but there was no
mistaking his wrath.
"I belave the gintleman is excited," remarked Larry, swinging the paddle
more leisurely.
"It looks that way----"
"Sh! mind your eye!"
Something whizzed by the head of Wharton and splashed in the water
beyond. It almost grazed his cheek, and seemed to be like a cannon ball.
For all purposes it might have been considered such, for had it struck
the youth, the result would have been fatal.
The crazy Indian had hurled a large stone with prodigious force and
accuracy. Little need, it would seem, of such a thrower carrying a
firearm.
As Wharton turned his affrighted gaze around he saw the fellow about to
hurl another.
"Gracious! he will kill us," exclaimed the youth, bending his head
forward to dodge the terrible missile.
"No, he won't, ayther."
As Larry spoke he dropped his paddle, caught up his rifle, and, pointing
toward the red man, fired.