A CURIOUS DISCOVERY.
"Stay here," said the Mohawk, as soon as they halted; "Lena-Wingo go
look for Iroquois--soon be back--don't go away--don't make noise,
listen--watch, don't go away."
"But suppose some of them come down upon us, Jack?" asked Ned,
determined to understand the situation as fully as possible.
"Keep out way--won't come down--stay away."
"Well, if you are enough satisfied to give me a written guarantee,
that's all there is about it. How long do you expect to be gone?"
"Not long--soon be back."
This was not very definite, but it was all the Mohawk would say, and
without any more words he took his departure, walking back over the
trail which they had been following since leaving the river.
"I can't understand why he is sure that no one will make a call on us
while he is gone," said Jo Minturn to Ned, as the three once more
seated themselves, this time on a fallen tree.
"The only reason that suggests itself to me is that he believes we are
so far off the track of the Iroquois that the only possibility that can
lead them this way is by their discovering our trail, and if they
attempt that, they will run against him, as he is going backward over
it."
"That seems to be a pretty good reason, but he may miss it,
nevertheless. There may not be much danger of an invasion from any other
direction, and yet there's no telling, either, from what point of the
compass these wretches may come."
"You ought to have explained all that," said Rosa. "I am quite sure that
Lena-Wingo would be grateful for all the instruction you can give him in
the ways of the woods. But you know he is so much younger than you, and
has had so little experience, that you must be charitable, and not judge
him too harshly."
Jo laughed and shook his head at his sister, who persisted in "touching"
him up on every occasion.
"As we are to stay here indefinitely," said Ned, "there can be no harm
in taking an observation and learning something for ourselves."
"How are we to do it?" asked his friend.
Ned pointed to the towering trees which stood on every hand.
"Climb up among those branches; what better outlook can one ask than he
can get among those limbs?"
"What a nice target a man would be, too, if an Indian should catch sight
of him!" said Rosa, as she looked up at the leaves gently swaying in the
slight morning breeze. "But after what Lena-Wingo said, I don't think
there's much to be feared of that, and I look upon your idea as a good
one, Edward."
"If my sister considers the idea a good one," said Jo, "that settles it,
and you need have no further fear."
"Of course not," was the prompt assent of Ned, who moved to the tree
which he had selected as his lookout.
As there was a remote possibility that some such a contingency as the
one intimated by their fair companion might occur, Jo and Rosa stationed
themselves beneath the tree to guard against surprise, Jo holding his
gun ready, while Ned left his own piece in the hands of Rosa, who,
should the occasion arise, knew how to employ it effectively. It was
the work of a few minutes for the athletic young man to make his way to
the top of the tree, which was one of the tallest in the neighborhood,
and gave him the opportunity he wished. Ned remembered the words of
Rosa, which, uttered in jest as they were, contained a good deal of
sense. While making his way among the limbs, he frequently paused and
carefully scrutinized the ground below, on the lookout for lurking
Indians.
The most rigid scrutiny failed to reveal anything alarming, and reaching
as high a point as was prudent, he settled himself among the luxuriant
branches, and then, like the shipwrecked mariner, looked long and
searchingly over the waste around him.
Peering to the northward, from his elevated perch, Ned saw the stretch
of woods, cultivated fields, the broad, smoothly-flowing Susquehanna,
with the faint view of the ruins of Fort Wintermoot and of Forty Fort
beyond. The view was a lovely one, as seen in the clear sunlight of this
summer morning, and it was hard to realize that the fair vale had been
desecrated within so brief a time by the merciless white and red men,
who had not yet left the valley. No wonder that the beauties of this
enchanting spot have drawn the tribute of the poets of the Old and New
World.
Ned Clinton had often gazed on the attractions of his native vale, and
he appreciated them always, but he restrained the admiration which he
might have felt at any other time. The first glance over the extended
scene failed to discover any signs of life; but when he had looked
again, he detected the figure of a canoe crossing the river, the
distance making it appear but a speck, while the number of occupants was
indistinguishable. To the southwest, almost in the line of the
Susquehanna, he observed a black cloud resting like a smirch of dirt
against a clear, blue sky. This, he had no doubt, was the smoke from
some conflagration of the night before.
The little primitive town of Wilkesbarre, with its rude fortifications,
lay also along the bank of the river, but owing to some intervening
trees of tall growth, standing close to the fort, the view in that
direction was not as complete as in others. Having scanned the outer
boundaries of the field, Ned attended to those portions which lay nearer
to him. It was a long time before he could fix upon any spot that
promised to give him information of friend or foe. Nothing could be
seen of Lena-Wingo, who was pursuing his investigations in his own way,
and was not likely to return until he had accomplished something upon
which to base an intelligent course of action. But by and by, as the
youth was scanning a point two or three hundred yards away, his eye fell
upon something which promised to give him the very knowledge he was
seeking.
In an open space at the distance mentioned, he observed a large flat
rock, which had nothing peculiar in its appearance, but which, it was
evident, was being used by some one as a means of concealment, while he
in turn took a survey of the young man in the tree. Ned was under the
impression that no matter how much he played the sentinel, he was
invisible to all outsiders that might be attempting to steal toward him
and his friends. It happened that he glanced directly at the object at
the moment that a man, whose dress showed him to be of the same race as
the young scout, rose to his feet, stood a second or two, and then
dropped down out of sight again. His action was such as a man would make
when he suspected that some one else was trying to obtain a closer
scrutiny than was agreeable. Ned was not a little puzzled by what he
witnessed. He looked down to his friends, and spoke in a careful
undertone:
"Keep a sharp lookout; I have discovered something which I want to study
a while."
"All right," called back Jo; "manage your end of the rope as you ought,
and we'll take care of ours."
Left thus free, the sentinel devoted himself to the task of watching the
movements of the stranger, and learning what his intentions were in
conducting himself in the manner described.
"He can't get away from where he is without my seeing him," was the
reflection of the watcher, "and if he means mischief, I shall detect it
in time to prevent his hurting us."
The stranger at this period was invisible, as he must continue to be so
long as he kept behind the rock; but it was hardly likely that he would
stay there long.
"It may be he is some fugitive like ourselves," added young Clinton,
"and he doesn't feel certain enough of our identity as yet to trust
himself within reach."