THE LAST HALT.
Within the following half hour a pleasant surprise came to the little
party.
"My gracious!" exclaimed the pioneer to his wife, "do you see that,
Margaret?"
He pointed to the ground between them as he spoke, and she nodded her
head with a smile.
"We are travelling over a trail," he added; "Red Crow is keeping his
promise; he knows what he is doing."
It was the truth. The path was faintly marked, but it was unmistakable,
and all knew the meaning. They were approaching one of those open
spaces, known as "salt licks," which are quite numerous in Kentucky and
Ohio. Naturally they are the resort of animals who thread their way
over long distances to the spots where the brackish moisture, oozing
through the ground, affords a taste of the mineral which is as
indispensable to beasts as to human beings.
The bears, deer, buffaloes and other inhabitants, journeying toward one
common point, gradually form paths through the forest, into which
additional brutes turn, adding to the distinctness of the trails, which
sometimes radiate outward from the common centre like the spokes of a
wheel, until they gradually lose themselves in the wood, as the brutes
diverge from the route, whose individuality becomes lost like the course
of the streams in the sandy wastes of Africa or the barren regions of
the Southwest.
By and by the path was as clearly defined as the trail connecting the
settlement and the block-house. A short distance farther and they
arrived at the lick.
The favorite time for the wild animals to visit these places of
refreshment is early in the morning, but when our friends arrived there,
a huge wolf was lapping the ground on the other side. They caught but a
single glimpse of him, when he skurried off among the trees, vanishing
in a twinkling.
The sight was a singular one, with the ground worn as smooth as the
floor of a barn by the licking of multitudinous tongues, and its
moisture glistened in the sunlight, as if it had been oiled.
The horses showed their appreciation of the luxury by stretching out
their necks and eagerly applying their tongues to the saltish surface.
They were allowed to do so freely, and a few minutes later Kenton joined
them. His handsome face expanded with a broad grin, and he surprised
all, especially the recipient of the compliment, by slapping Red Crow on
the shoulder.
"Arqu-wao, you're a powerful good chap, and here's my hand on it."
The Shawanoe, rather gingerly, allowed his palm to be almost crushed in
that of the scout.
"He's doin' jes' what the varmint said he would," added Kenton,
addressing the rest of the party. "If nothin' don't happen, he'll land
us at the settlement all right, but we're goin' to be followed."
"Have you discovered anything?" asked Mr. Edwards.
"Not as yet, but they won't let us slip away in this style without some
kind of a rumpus; we musn't stay here too long."
Red Crow was of the same mind, for he tugged at the rein of the leading
horse, who was reluctant to abandon his feast, while the pioneer had to
work as hard with the other before he would leave the spot. The lick was
skirted and another trail taken on the other side, so that the journey
was continued in substantially the same direction as before. Inasmuch,
however, as this path must soon dissipate itself, there was some
curiosity to know what their guide would do when the point of vanishing
was reached. Not a member of the party, however, felt distrust of his
ability and loyalty to them.
Kenton, as before, fell to the rear, for there was every reason to
believe that whenever the Shawanoes chose to make a demonstration, it
would be from that quarter. As anticipated, the path grew fainter as
they progressed until it was hardly perceptible, but the wood remained
open, and progress was comparatively easy.
For some minutes before this the whites had been sensible of a dull,
roaring sound, which at times was quite distinct, and then sank again
beyond their power of hearing.
"I believe that is the stream where Larry and I had so much trouble
yesterday and last night," said Wharton to his father.
"Undoubtedly you are right."
"I wonder whether he intends we shall cross it?"
"If he does, he knows the way."
"I guess we will not, for you know the regular trail doesn't take the
other side."
"But if he means to follow a new course to the settlement, it may be
necessary."
The afternoon was well along, and some of the party had eaten nothing
since early morning. All were hungry, but though there was a substantial
lunch in the packs carried by the horses, no one spoke of it. They were
too desirous of getting forward while the opportunity was theirs, to pay
any attention to their appetites.
They had not yet reached the torrent, which was now close at hand, when
Red Crow halted the animals and said to the pioneer:
"Wait here--Arqu-wao go ahead--won't stay long--want to see."
Mr. Edwards bowed his head, signifying that it should be as he wished,
and the Shawanoe was off in a twinkling before Kenton, who was hardly
out of sight to the rear, could come up. He soon appeared, and inquired
what had taken place.
"Thar's trouble," was his emphatic comment.
"How can you know that?" asked the pioneer, with slight impatience; "you
haven't seen anything."
"We're not far from where the younkers had the row yesterday; the lake
isn't more'n half a mile up stream, and the reg'lar trail ain't that fur
off in t'other direction."
"Don't you think Red Crow is acting wisely?"
"No one could do as well. It ain't that; but I told you we wouldn't
reach the settlement without a rumpus. He means to take us across the
gorge. The other varmints may not know the course we've took, but
they'll be smart enough to 'spect that we'll try to cross at this spot,
and some of 'em will be on the watch thar as sure as you're born. Wait
hyar whar you be till I go ahead and larn how things stand. I think Red
Crow is likely to need me."
The words proved true sooner than the sagacious scout suspected.