OUT IN THE WORLD.
It cannot be doubted that the Indian youth intended to make an assault
on Jack Carleton. He must have known of his prostrating illness and
concluded that he was a much less dangerous individual than when they
first met; but there was something in the flash of the captive's eye and
a meaning in the act of drawing his knife part way from his girdle,
which caused the young Sauk to hesitate. Evidently he concluded that
much could be said for and against the prudence of opening hostilities.
Jack strode forward, with his shoulders thrown back and a scowl, as
though he preferred that the youth should make the attack. He kept his
gaze on the savage until some distance beyond him, the latter turning as
if on a pivot and narrowly watching him to the very door of the lodge.
Jack then withdrew his attention and took a survey of matters in front.
The same quiet which he had noticed a short time before held reign. The
few Indians moving about paid no attention to the lad, with the
exception, perhaps, of one: that was Ogallah, the chieftain who had just
noticed him on his return from the spring. The noble head of the band
was lolling in the shade of one of the wigwams, discussing affairs of
state with one of his cabinet, when he observed the youth. Summoning all
his latent energy, he rose to his feet and strolled in the direction of
his own home. The moment Jack saw him, he assumed the most woe-begone
appearance it was possible to wear. The defiant attitude and manner,
which were a challenge of themselves, vanished: the shoulders drooped
forward: the step became slouchy and uncertain, and the poor fellow
looked as if about to sink to the ground in a final collapse.
Pretending not to see the sachem, Jack feebly drew the bison skin aside
and pitched into the lodge. Glancing around, he found he was alone,
whereupon he strode straight across the space, lay back on his couch,
and kicked up his heels like a crowing infant.
"I must work off some of this steam or I shall burst," he said to
himself, rolling and tumbling about in the very abandon of rapid
convalescence: "It's hard work for me to play sick, but it must be done
for the big prize that is at stake."
He kept close watch on the entrance, and, when a hand suddenly drew the
skin aside and the bent figure of the chieftain came through and
straightened up within the lodge, young Carleton had the appearance of a
person whose sands of life were nearly run out.
Ogallah walked forward and examined him closely. He saw a youth who was
unquestionably a "pale face," staring vacantly at him for a few seconds,
and who then rolled on his face with a groan that must have been heard
some distance beyond the lodge. Restless flingings of the limbs
followed, and, when the sachem turned away, he must have concluded that
it would never be his privilege to adopt the young gentleman into his
family.
Toward night the squaw and dog appeared and the domestic economy of the
aboriginal residence went on as before. When a piece of cooked meat was
brought to Jack, he devoured it with a ferocity which threatened
incurable dyspepsia, and he swallowed a goodly draught of water freshly
brought from the spring.
Recalling the mistake he made while on the journey through the woods to
the village, Jack Carleton resolved he would not fail through any
similar forgetfulness. He fell asleep at that time on account of his
exhaustion, but now the case was different: he had had enough slumber to
last two days, while his brain was so clear and full of the scheme that
it was impossible for him to rest until after it had been tested.
Nothing is more weary than the waiting which one has to undergo when
placed in his position. The hours drag by with scarcely moving
footsteps, and before the turn of night comes, one is apt to believe the
break of day is at hand. From his couch, Jack furtively watched how
things went, which was much the same as he had seen before.
The pup ate until they would give him no more and then stretched out at
the feet of the squaw, who, having finished her meal, lit her pipe and
puffed away with the dull animal enjoyment natural to her race. The
chief himself led in that respect, and the two kept it up, as it seemed
to Jack, doubly as long as ever before. At last they lay down and
slept.
The captive had noted where his rifle was placed. It leaned against the
side of the lodge where it had stood every time he saw it, so that, if
he could steal out of the place in the night without arousing the
inmates, it would be easy for him to take the gun with him.
The fire flickered and burned up, then sank, flared up again, and at
last went into a steady decline, which left the room filled with a dull
glow that would have failed to identify the objects in sight had not the
boy been familiar with their appearance.
When convinced that the two were sound asleep, Jack repeated the prayer
that had trembled so many times on his lips, rose as silently as a
shadow, and began moving across the lodge on tip-toes to where his
invaluable rifle leaned. Lightly would that warrior have need to sleep
to be aroused by such faint footfalls.
The boy had not yet reached his weapon, when he was almost transfixed by
the vivid recollection of the attempt he made to get away when on the
journey to the village. He believed his liberty was secured, when he
suddenly awoke to the fact that Ogallah and his warriors were trifling
with him.
Could it be the chief had read in the captive's face the evidence of his
intention?
This was the question which for the moment held life in suspense, while
Jack Carleton stood in the middle of the dimly lit wigwam and gazed
doubtingly toward the figures near the smoldering fire.
"Likely enough he is only pretending he's asleep, and, just as I am sure
the way is clear, he will spring to his feet and grab me."
It was a startling thought indeed, and there were a few moments when the
lad was actually unable to stir; but he quickly rallied and smiled at
his own fears.
"If I once get my gun in hand, he won't be able to stop me----"
He was reaching forward to grasp it, when one of the embers fell apart,
and a yellow twist of flame filled the apartment with a glow which
revealed everything. Jack stopped with a faint gasp and turned his head,
sure that the chief was on the point of leaping upon him; but he was as
motionless as a log, and the hand of the boy was upraised again as he
took another stealthy step forward. A half step more, and his fingers
closed around the barrel. The touch of the cold iron sent a thrill
through him, for it was like the palpable hand of Hope itself.
The powder horn lay on the ground beside the weapon, the Indian having
made no use of either since they came into his possession. The string
was quickly flung over the shoulder of the boy, who then began moving in
the same guarded fashion toward the door, throwing furtive glances over
his shoulder at the king and queen, who did not dream of what was going
on in their palace.
Jack Carleton "crossed the Rubicon" when he lifted the rifle and powder
horn from the ground. Had he been checked previous to that he would have
turned back to his couch, and made the pretense that what he did was the
result of a delirium. But with the possession of his weapon came a
self-confidence that would permit no obstruction to divert him from his
purpose. He would not have fired on the chief or his squaw (except to
save his own life), for that would have been unpardonable cruelty, but
he would have made a dash into the outer air, where he was sure of
eluding his pursuers, so long as the night lasted.
But the slumber of the couple was genuine. They did not stir or do
anything except to breathe in their sonorous fashion. Jack took hold of
the bison skin to draw it aside, when he found the door was locked. It
was an easy matter, however, to unfasten it, and a single step placed
him outside the wigwam.
Instead of hurrying away, as his impatience prompted him to do, the
youth stood several minutes surveying the scene around him. The Sauk
village was asleep, and the scrutiny which he made of the collection of
wigwams failed to show a single star-like twinkle of light. The night
was clear, and a gibbous moon was high in the sky. Patches of clouds
drifted in front of the orb, and fantastic shadows whisked across the
clearing and over the wigwams and trees. The dwellings of the Indians
looked unsightly and misshapen in the shifting light, and Jack felt as
though he were gazing upon a village of the dead.
Turning to the southward, he faced the narrow, winding river. From the
front of the chieftain's lodge, he caught the glimmer of its surface
and the murmur of its flow, as it swept by in the gloom on its way to
the distant Gulf. A soft roaring sound, such as we notice when a
sea-shell is held to the ear crept through the solitude like the voice
of silence itself.
Jack was impressed by the scene, but when he saw a shadowy figure flit
between two of the wigwams, and was certain he heard a movement in the
lodge behind him, he hastily concluded it was the time for action and
not meditation. With a start that might have betrayed him, he quickly
left his position and hastened away.
It was natural that the many hours devoted by Jack during his
convalescence, to forming his plan of procedure, should have fixed the
plan he meant to follow. Thus it was that the few minutes spent in front
of the chieftain's lodge were not occupied in debating the proper course
to take, and, when he once made a start, he went straight ahead without
turning to the right or left.
The reader will readily see how great were the advantages on the side of
the fugitive. He was certain of a fair start, which ought to have made
his position absolutely safe, for if the American Indian is
phenomenally skillful in following the trail of an enemy through the
wilderness, that enemy, if he suspects such pursuit, ought to be able to
throw him irrecoverably from the scent.
Furthermore, it is scarcely conceivable that the trail of Jack Carleton
could be taken at the door of Ogallah's wigwam and followed as the
warriors trailed a fugitive through the woods; for the ground whereon he
walked had been tramped hard by multitudinous feet, and the faint
impressions of the boy's shoes could not be individualized among the
thousand footprints. It was far different from fleeing from a camp in
the woods, where his trail crossed and was interfered with by no other,
and where the slightest depression or overturning of the leaves was like
the impression on the dusty highway.
The fugitive's first intention was to take to the woods, and guiding his
course by the moon and sun, travel with all the speed and push at his
command. Fortunately he was enabled to see that such a course was almost
certain to bring disaster. Instead of doing that, he went directly to
the river side, where he had seen the Indians frolicking in the water,
and he himself had so often sighed for the same delicious privilege.
There were five canoes partly drawn up the bank and waiting the will of
their owner. They were made of bark with curved ends, fantastically
painted, and each was capable of carrying, at least, six or eight
able-bodied warriors. They were so light that the lad found no trouble
in shoving the first clear of the shore, and sending it skimming out
into the stream. As it slackened its pace, it turned part way round,
like a bewildered swan, as if uncertain which way to go. Then it sailed
triangularly down current, much after the manner of Ogallah's dog when
on a trot.
It was not more than fairly under way, when the second glided out after
it, then the third, the fourth and finally the fifth and last. This
contained Jack Carleton who took the long ashen paddle in hand and began
plying it with considerable skill. He was paying less attention to his
own progress than to the manipulation of the other canoes, which he had
set free for a special purpose.
He kept the five in the middle of the current until a fourth of a mile
was passed. Then he gave one such a violent push that it ran its snout
against the bank and stuck fast. Some distance down stream he repeated
the man[oe]uvre with the second boat against the opposite shore,
continuing the curious proceeding until he was alone in the single
canoe, floating down stream.