LOST
"Run, Dave, run!"
Dazed and bewildered by the sudden death of the hunter, the youth did
not know what to do until the voice of Sam Barringford rang out close
by his side. The old frontiersman had his rifle leveled, but he did not
pull the trigger, for the Indian who had appeared was already out of
sight.
"Where shall we run to?" asked Dave.
For answer the old frontiersman pointed with his hand, and without
delay both set off, down the illy-defined trail they had been pursuing
but a short while before. Another rifle shot rang out, and the bullet
graced Dave's shoulder, clipping away a bit of his jacket.
"Into the brushwood," said Barringford, and made a leap over some
low bushes. Dave followed, and both went plunging straight into the
heart of the wilderness, over rough stones and fallen trees, and then
downward, into a gully where the overhanging bushes soon hid them from
view.
The Indians were now in full pursuit. As Flabig had said, there were
from fifteen to twenty of them, and they belonged to the Seneca tribe
that had just left Venango in ashes and killed the majority of the
garrison attached to that post. They were skillful warriors and bent
upon killing or capturing Dave and Barringford at any cost.
But the old frontiersman did not intend to be taken, and once in the
gully he did not stop, but continued to push forward until he reached a
series of rough rocks. Up these he climbed, and finding an overhanging
branch, drew himself up into the tree and called on Dave to follow.
Then they climbed to the other side of the tree, dropped behind more
bushes, and continued their flight.
Dave gave a sigh of relief.
"Reckon as thet will throw 'em off the trail, or, leas'wise, give 'em
a bit o' huntin' to do afore they pick it up ag'in," observed the old
frontiersman. "But we've got to leg it good an' strong, or we'll be
their game, sure pop."
Nearly a mile more was covered before they slackened their pace. They
had reached a stony brook, and along this watercourse they walked,
to conceal their trail again. Then, coming to a cliff of overhanging
rocks, they found a fine shelter, and here stopped to rest.
"Poor Flabig," murmured Dave. "He certainly didn't deserve that fate."
"He's better off than if he was captured an' tortured," returned
Barringford. "Kinder winded, eh, Dave?"
"Just a little. It was a stiff run."
"It war a run fer life, lad, nuthin less. I seed at onct it wouldn't do
to take a stand--they war too many fer us. I hope they don't find their
way here."
While resting they kept their eyes and ears open for the appearance of
the Indians, but not a red man showed himself. At the foot of the cliff
was a spring of clear, cold water, and here they procured a refreshing
drink.
"I don't suppose you know where we are, Sam?"
"Hain't got much o' an idee, Dave, an' thet's a fact. One thing is
sartin, we ain't nigh to thet trail."
"The wilderness is pretty thick around here."
"Shall we go on?"
"If you think best."
It was decided to continue their course, and as well as they were able,
they shaped it toward the southeastward. Presently they came to an open
glade and here found the remains of a fire.
"Sumbody has had a camp here," said the old hunter. "But it war weeks
ago."
An hour passed, and they appeared to be going slightly downhill.
Overhead the tree branches were so thick that scarcely a ray of
sunshine reached the ground. Then it became darker, so that they could
not see where they were going. The tree roots were of immense size,
sprawling in all directions. The silence was so profound that it was
painful.
"Might as well stop right here," said Barringford at last.
"What do you mean?" questioned Dave, quickly.
"Ain't no use to go further, seeing as how we don't know whar we are
gittin' to."
"Sam, we are lost!"
"So we are, Dave, teetotally lost at thet, too."
Dave gave a long look around, and in spite of his natural bravery
a shiver went over him. He had been lost in the forest before, but
never in such a complete wilderness as this. Because of the trees
and brushwood they could not see fifty feet on any side of them. The
silence remained unbroken, although they strained their ears to the
utmost, to hear even the gurgle of a distant brook or the note of some
bird.
It was a situation to alarm the stoutest heart. Dave had heard numerous
stories of travelers, and even experienced hunters, becoming lost in
the wilderness, and either losing their lives because of this, or
becoming insane through their wanderings. He knew the tales to be true,
and as he gazed around the reason became very plain to him.
"We might as well take it easy," said Barringford, trying in his rough
way to comfort his companion. "Ain't nuthin to be skeert about, yet."
"Have you any idea where the trail is, Sam?"
"I've been allowin' to myself it's off thar," and the old frontiersman
pointed out the direction he meant. "But I ain't puttin' up no money on
it."
They tried to rest, but each was too much disturbed in mind to remain
quiet, and soon they went on, deeper and deeper into the great
wilderness. So they continued until night came on and all became black
around them.
"I'm going to have a fire," said Dave, half desperately. "I'm not going
to sit in this darkness, Indians or no Indians."
"An' I'm with ye," returned Barringford, and without delay they kindled
a fair-sized camp-fire, over which they prepared a well-earned meal.
Firewood was to be had in plenty and they heaped it on recklessly,
although the forest, as a whole, was so damp that a general
conflagration was impossible.
"I suppose we'll have to stay here all night," said Dave, when the
meal, leisurely eaten, was finished.
"Don't see no way out on't lad. The rest will do us good."
"Don't you think we made a mistake by going down so deep into this
hollow?"
"Perhaps, lad--but it wasn't no mistake to git away from them redskins."
All was made safe around the camp-fire and not long after this they
went to sleep. Nothing came during the night to disturb them, and both
slumbered on until the sun was showing above the tree-tops.
Dave was the first to stir, but scarcely had he gotten up than
Barringford followed. The smoldering fire was coaxed up, and they
procured such a breakfast as their scanty store permitted.
"What do you say to climbing a tall tree and looking around?" said Dave.
"I was goin' to suggest that same, Dave."
A giant of the forest was not far away, and having procured two good
saplings, each having a crook at one end, they hauled themselves up
into the tree. Standing on one limb, each would reach for that above
with the crook, and then haul himself up on the sapling, as a sailor
hauls himself up on a rope. To climb up along the big tree trunk was
entirely out of the question.
Mounting to the very top of such a large tree was no easy task, and
both felt tired when they had gained the position desired. A grand
panorama was now spread before them and they surveyed it with interest.
"That's the trail!" cried Barringford, pointing it out. "But it's a
good mile from here."
"And there is the river, just beyond!" replied Dave. "But, Sam, it
looks like a rough walk to get to it."
"'Twill be a rough journey truly, lad, but that can't be helped. Let us
be thankful that we have located ourselves."
"I am thankful. It was horrible to be lost in such a wilderness as
this."
Having fixed the "lay of the land" well in their heads, they descended
to the ground, put out the camp-fire, and started in the direction
of the trail. They had proceeded less than a hundred yards when
Barringford called a halt.
"What is it now, Sam?"
"Boggy ground, Dave. We've got to go around."
"Which way?" asked the youth, and then gave a sudden yell. "Look out!
There's a snake!"
He was right, and an instant later, not one snake, but half a dozen
came into sight, from under a fallen log. They were three to four feet
in length, of a dark brown color, and with eyes that shone like beads.
They hissed viciously and then started to crawl in several directions.
One passed directly between Barringford's feet, causing the old
frontiersman to leap out of reach in great haste.
"Don't stay here!" cried he. "Come!" And away he went on a run, with
Dave beside him. They might have shot at the snakes, but did not wish
to waste their scant store of ammunition.
Fortunately, the snakes did not follow them, for which they were
thankful, and a little later they struck an open space, where walking
became easy.
"I suppose there was a regular den of snakes back there," said Dave.
"Ugh! I'm glad we didn't strike them last night."
"Perhaps they wasn't poisonous, Dave, but it's best not to run any
risks."
It took them the best part of the day to regain the lost trail, and by
that time they were so exhausted that further walking was out of the
question. They went to fishing in the river and soon had a good mess,
which they cooked for supper. Then they sought out a camping spot and
retired for the night.
The next day was one of hard tramping, around some falls and rapids of
the stream. But after that, they constructed a rude raft and floated
along at their ease for the rest of the week. They also shot some small
game, which gave them all they wished to eat in that line, and found
numerous wild berries. Then they came to a spot where the river divided
into two forks, and did not know which fork to take to continue the
trip.
"Let us take that on the right," said Dave, and Barringford agreed. A
day later they reached some waterfalls, and both the youth and the old
hunter gazed around in amazement.
"I know this spot, Sam!"
"So do I, lad."
"We came out here to hunt, several years ago."
The old frontiersman nodded.
"We came up yonder trail, directly from Fort Cumberland."
"Yes."
"Then we are only about a good day's journey from the fort," went on
the youth, his face brightening.
"You are right, Dave, an' we ain't lost no more nuther. Come on, we'll
soon be thar now, an' then we'll know what's been a-happenin' sence we
went away," added the old frontiersman.