[Illustration: "WHAT IN BLAZES ARE YOU AIMING AT?"--Page 168.]
THE WILDERNESS FUGITIVES
BY
EDWARD S. ELLIS
AUTHOR OF "DEERFOOT" SERIES, "LOG CABIN" SERIES, "BOY PIONEER" SERIES,
ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO., PHILADELPHIA, CHICAGO, TORONTO.
COPYRIGHTED 1893 BY THE PRICE-McGILL CO.
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE.
I--Alone and Together, 7
II--Soft and Low, 15
III--Eavesdropping, 22
IV--The Course of True Love, 30
V--A Light Ahead, 37
VI--The Fragments of the Feast, 44
VII--The Report of a Gun, 51
VIII--Mr. Isaac Perkins, 59
IX--Border Bravery, 67
X--On the River, 75
XI--An Unfavorable Omen, 83
XII--Forced Backward, 91
XIII--New Peril, 100
XIV--Diamond Cut Diamond, 107
XV--A Delicate and Dangerous Task, 114
XVI--Iroquois Against Iroquois, 121
XVII--At Last!, 128
XVIII--The Southeastern Shore, 136
XIX--The Mohawk Objects, 143
XX--The Longest Way Home, 152
XXI--A Curious Discovery, 159
XXII--Another Fugitive, 166
XXIII--Doubt and Perplexity, 174
XXIV--The New Guide, 182
XXV--The Hiding-place, 189
XXVI--Curious Proceedings, 196
XXVII--What Does it all Mean? 203
XXVIII--Up and Doing, 210
XXIX--A Startling Check, 217
XXX--A Merited Fate, 227
XXXI--The Mohawk Explains, 234
XXXII--The Fatal Tree, 242
XXXIII--Captive and Captors, 249
THE WILDERNESS FUGITIVES.
CHAPTER I.
ALONE AND TOGETHER.
The reader will recall that at the close of The River Fugitives the
narrative left our friends in a situation, apparently, of safety; and
the belief, on the part of Jo Minturn, his sister Rosa and Ned Clinton,
was strong that, in their flight from the dreadful scenes of the Wyoming
massacre of July, 1778, they had left all dangers behind. They were
confident that, under the guidance of the matchless Mohawk, Lena-Wingo
(temporarily absent in quest of food), the road to security was beset by
no perils worth the mention.
But, as has also been intimated, they were altogether wrong in this
belief. Brother and sister and Ned Clinton were seated near each other
on a fallen tree, and it was not yet fully dark when the soft tread of a
moccasin was heard on the leaves, and they saw the tall, slim figure of
the Mohawk come forth like some spirit of the forest to ask them their
business in thus invading his domains. The supposition was so general
that he had gone in quest of food, that a common instinct led them to
look to see whether he brought anything of that nature with him. There
was enough light left to show that he carried nothing but his gun.
"Well, Jack," said Ned, "we thought you had gone out foraging, but if
you did, you didn't make much success of it."
"Lena-Wingo didn't hunt eat--he hunt something more."
"Well, did he find it?" asked Rosa, who was more daring in her questions
than the others thought it prudent to be.
"Yes--he find him."
"Why don't you bring him here, then, that we may see him?"
"He gone," was the direct but rather unsatisfactory answer, for there
was no telling to what he referred.
Rosa was on the point of questioning him further, when it struck her
that if he desired them to know what he had been doing he would tell
them only when he chose. And so she forbore.
"I hope the result was pleasing to you," ventured Ned Clinton, on what
seemed forbidden ground.
"When Lena-Wingo look for Iroquois in canoe, he take knife along."
As this remark was clearly intended in the light of a joke, all felt the
duty of laughing at it, although the mirthful inclination was not very
tremendous, coming from such a grim source.
"Jo," added the redskin, after waiting for the applause to wear itself
out, "want to see you."
The young man thus appealed to sprang to his feet, and placed himself
beside the red scout, wondering what he could have to say that he should
keep from the rest. Ned and Rosa saw them talking together for a minute
or two, when they turned, as if to walk deeper into the woods. At that
moment, Jo looked around and called to them in a cautious voice, just
loud enough to be heard:
"We won't be back for some time."
This was a curious proceeding, indeed; but there was no use of
protesting against it. The Mohawk had a way of doing as he pleased about
such matters, and it was useless to interfere. When they had been gone
several minutes, it struck Ned that, as they would not be back for
awhile, he was given a chance to converse with Rosa, such as had not
been his since the invasion of the Wyoming valley.
The consciousness came upon him so suddenly that he was not a little
confused by the problem of how he was to improve the opportunity. True,
he had spent many hours in the company of the beautiful girl, but it
seemed to him that never had he felt as he did then. He was sure that
she must be aware of the unutterably tender affection he held toward
her--a feeling that had grown within the last few days, until it took
possession of his being. Not until the life of Rosa Minturn was placed
in peril did he comprehend how much he loved her. When there was reason
to fear she was in the hands of the Iroquois or the Tory colonel, and
that he might never see her more, then it was that it seemed his heart
must break from grief alone. And when, a short time after, she was found
without a hair of her head injured, his joy was correspondingly
great--so great, indeed, that he was sure all noticed it, even Rosa
herself.
The couple were seated upon a fallen tree, there being some two or three
feet of space between them. The twilight, which was fairly upon forest
and stream, threw the faces of both in shadow, and Ned was glad of it.
If there was one thing in the world of which he was absolutely certain,
it was that he was never so ill at ease as he was at that moment, it
following, as a matter of course, that Rosa could not but be aware of
it, and that she looked upon him with pity and contempt. She was
wonderfully kind, it seemed to him, and so far as he could judge, showed
no consciousness of the pitiful exhibition he was making of himself.
"When we once arrive at Wilkesbarre, and you are safe from the Indians
and Tories, I suppose Jack will hasten back to your parents with the
tidings, for it will be a great relief to them."
"He hasn't said anything to me about it, but it will be just like him,
for he is never content with anything except danger and action."
"It would have gone hard with you if you had had any one besides him to
lead you through the woods."
"None is so capable as he when he chooses to exert himself; but I think
he has been a little careless. There was no need of his being caught as
he was in that house when you went to his rescue."
Although it was too dark for it to be seen, yet a crimson flush
overspread the face of the young scout again at receiving such a
compliment from those fair lips. He checked the protest that rose to his
own with the remembrance of the reproof of Jo, fearing that he might
appear to assume a modesty that he did not feel.
"Where one has done so much for us as the Mohawk, it would be ungrateful
not to give him what assistance I could. I was as much pleased as was he
that I was able to divert the attention of the Iroquois until he found a
chance to get away. But, Rosa, you know as well as I that they could not
have held him there, for he has been in many a worse situation than
that."
"That may all be true, Edward, but you do wrong to throw aside all the
credit, as you seem anxious to do. You acted bravely, and you know it.
Jo has told me about it, and he said more than that, too!"
"I don't know what he could say more than that," said young Clinton in
surprise.
"He told me that you had a dreadful time in getting away from the
battle. You had to swim the river out to Monacacy island, and the
Indians followed you, and came near capturing both. You acted very
bravely again, as any one who knows you might have been sure you would,
and helped him very much, indeed. I thank you for that, Edward."
"I don't want to appear in the light of disputant of all that Jo says,
but he gives me more credit in that matter than belongs to me. It was
all we could do, and more than appeared possible, to take care of
ourselves--each of us alone, without thinking of the other. He surely
helped me as much as I helped him."
"Well, I shall have to wait till I hear what he has to say about that,"
responded Rosa, with that persistency so charming in a beautiful woman
when it is in favor of him with whom she is holding her argument.
The certainty that he possessed the good opinion of this girl, in spite
of his own sense of awkwardness and embarrassment, caused more than one
thrill of delight to pass through the young hero as he listened to the
words--a thousand times more delightful--coming from such lips as hers.
"I am pleased beyond measure," he said, gathering courage from her
utterances, and the darkness that now veiled their faces from each
other, "to find that I have earned your good opinion, and all that I
ask is that I may continue to deserve it."
"Why, of course you will," she was prompt to reply. "What could you do
to make any one respect you less?"
"Well, I might do a great many things that I hope I won't do," he
laughed. "Not to mention my own principles, the fear of displeasing you
would be enough at any time--"
"'Sh!" interrupted Rosa, in a frightened whisper. "I am sure I heard
some one just then behind us."