THE PICTURE WRITING ON THE BARK
"WHY, they're gone!" the backwoods boy exclaimed, as he stared hard at
the spot where he had supposed their visitors were still lying.
The blanket was there, carefully folded over a stick of wood, so as to
give the impression at first glance that some one might be underneath,
though Roger now saw that this could not be so.
"Yes, that's a fact," added Dick, just as if he meant to say that any
one with eyes could see it.
"But, if you thought this would happen, why didn't we do something?"
asked Roger.
Dick shrugged his shoulders.
"Why should we try to stop the old squaw if she thought it best to
leave us in this way? She is naturally suspicious of all whites. And
perhaps, for all we know, she might have thought we meant to take that
little girl away to our people. So, just like an Indian, she watched
her chance, and while we slept crept out of camp. Let them go, Roger;
even if we wanted to, we couldn't spare time to look for them now. We
have to find that river to-day, you know."
"Yes, I think you're right, Dick," admitted the other, slowly, as he
grasped the idea. "And anyhow, she didn't take my blanket. I ought to
be thankful for that, I suppose. Indians are born thieves, they say.
But see how she wrapped it about this piece of wood, just to make me
think one of them might be lying under the folds. What's that lying on
top of the blanket, Dick?"
"Looks to me like a piece of fresh bark," replied the other, as he
stepped forward.
"Oh! it may be a message!" cried Roger, his eyes sparkling.
"Just what it is," answered his cousin. "See, she has drawn it in
pictures, for you know that's the only way Indians can communicate
their ideas to each other. Here is what she means to stand for our
camp, with four of us sitting around a fire, two being men and the
others women, for they have skirts. Then you can see the last two
creeping away on their hands and knees. And here they come into what I
guess must be an Indian village."
"How easy to understand what she wants us to know," declared Roger,
much struck by the manner in which the old squaw had left word that she
and the little Indian girl were even then on their way to the village
where they belonged.
"I thought something like this might happen," Dick said, presently,
"when I saw the squaw hiding small pieces of meat last night, instead
of eating them herself, hungry though she was. She meant to keep them
for the child. A warrior, or an old squaw, may be able to go without a
bite for days, but not a child."
Roger folded his blanket, and stowed it away, after which he went back
to the little blaze he had started, saying in a humorous way:
"Well, anyhow we can have our meat cooked as we want it this morning,
and not half burned in the Indian style; and that's worth something;"
at which remark his comrade laughed.
"The chances are we'll never know just who old Karmeet was, or the
pretty little dark-faced girl with her," Roger observed later, while
they were eating their frugal meal. "Dove Eyes, she said her name was;
and perhaps it was all right, though I never yet saw a turtle-dove with
such black eyes; did you, Dick?"
But Dick's mind was already wrestling with a weightier problem. He
had to map out the day's march and figure on whether they would be
apt to strike the river by still heading due north. Roger was already
questioning in his mind whether they had not better turn somewhat
toward the northeast, so as to make doubly sure; but as yet he had not
dared speak his thought aloud.
But after all, it looked as though these things were ordered for the
best. Supposing they had never left the bank of the Missouri, what
would have been the fate of Karmeet and little Dove Eyes? Surely there
must be some Power that regulated all such affairs; and even this
wandering on their part had been for a purpose.
As they rode on that morning they gradually left the timber behind once
more, and found it only in scattered _mottes_.
Roger was wavering in his belief, but Dick never allowed himself to
doubt that, sooner or later, they must come upon the river again,
and possibly many miles above the spot where they had left it. He
himself had been figuring it out, and reached the conclusion that
there was a tremendous bend above the place of their turning aside to
make a "cut-off;" and that, when they were able to again look upon the
current of the river, they would have saved possibly a hundred miles of
territory.
And should this prove to be the case Dick stood ready to thank his
companion for being the cause of their wandering. What had promised
to be a disaster might under such new conditions prove a blessing in
disguise.
At noon they halted only long enough to take a cold bite. Indeed, this
might as well have been done while on the move, only that the boys had
compassion on their horses, and wished to give them a little rest in
the middle of a hot day.
More than once Dick had raised himself in the stirrups as the afternoon
wore on. Roger noticed this finally, and of course was curious to know
why he did it.
"Do you think you see anything ahead there, Dick?" he demanded.
"I was noticing the formation of the land," came the calm reply; "and,
Roger, unless I'm greatly mistaken, we're going to come on the river
before the sun sets."
"I only hope you're a good prophet, Dick, that's all," the other
quickly returned, as he, too, looked long and earnestly ahead. "And now
that you've called my attention to it, I do believe it looks promising
over there. Well, for one, I'm fish hungry, and I don't care who knows
it. It seems like a terribly long time since I felt a fish tug at a
line."
What Dick so confidently predicted came true.
Just one hour later they no longer had the slightest doubt about the
river lying ahead, for there were many things that went to prove this
fact. Roger gave himself up to picturing the success that was bound to
follow his fishing operations; for, as has been remarked, the boy never
was happier than when engaged in his favorite occupation.
"If we don't get there until about dark, Dick, promise me that you'll
lay out our camp to-night close to the water, so that I can have my
fill of fun without having to go far for it. Seems to me I don't want
to lose sight of the water in a hurry again."
"I feel pretty much the same way as you do, Roger," replied the other,
frankly. "And so I can safely promise you what you ask. We'll sleep
to-night so near the water that it will make music to put us to sleep."
"The finest of music, too," ventured Roger; "especially after you've
been silly enough to lose it for three nights running. But then I keep
on hoping we may have gained something after all, which would make my
blunder the easier to hear."
"I'm sure that it will turn out to be so," added generous Dick.
"And that we are right now closer to the exploring party than ever
before; that would be just fine, eh, Dick?"
"It certainly would, Roger. There, if you look yonder, you can see the
sun shining on what can be nothing else than running water."
"Yes, yes, that's what it must be, Dick; the river at last! I'll be
glad to see our old friend again. Two months we've been following its
course; until now we are so far away from our homes that it almost
seems as if we might never get back there again. But it does look good
to see the water again, and to know that perhaps we'll even have a
taste of fresh fish soon."
Even the horses seemed to know that the water was close by, for they
acted as if given new life, pushing on with a vim that had been lacking
during the earlier part of the day.
And so, about an hour before sundown, they came upon the Missouri once
more, flowing peacefully between its wide banks, and at this season of
the year rather low; so that here and there islands could be seen, as
well as sandbars, on the latter of which flocks of birds sought their
food.
"Now let's find a good spot where we can stay until morning; and it
must be a fishing place, too," Roger remarked, as they turned their
horses' heads up-stream.
Ten minutes later he suddenly called out:
"Look! how would that little island do, Dick? We can easily let the
horses wade out, because it is hardly to their knees, I feel sure.
And if you examine the lower part of the island you'll agree with me
that it's just the finest place to let a baited hook float down-stream
anybody ever could find. Please say yes, Dick!"
Roger was so urgent, and there seemed so little chance of anything
like disaster following the move, that even cautions Dick could not
resist. And when they put the horses to it, they found that the water,
as Roger had declared, was not more than a foot or so in depth, so that
the passage was easily accomplished.
It was only a small island, with a few trees growing upon it, though
even these showed signs of having been compelled to fight for existence
when the spring freshets came along.
"We might as well make camp here at this lower end, eh, Dick?" asked
Roger, who had an eye on the fishing possibilities, and was anxious to
get busy.
Dick had been looking around, as usual, being desirous of getting the
lay of the land fixed in his mind in case there should come any sudden
necessity for a change of base during the night, when he would know
what to do.
"Just as you say, Roger," he remarked. "If we are going to camp here,
one place is about the same as another to me, so long as we keep our
fire well hidden. And I can see where that can be easily done among
these rocks back here. The horses we can tie to the trees with their
ropes, and there is enough grass to do for one night. So get busy as
soon as you wish. I'll take care of everything else."
"Thank you, Dick; you feel for a fellow, don't you? But then you never
were just as wild for fishing as I am. Oh! don't it seem good to be
back once more close to our old friend, the river? And all night long
I'm sure the splash of the water on the rocks will keep me sound
asleep. It's the next thing to getting home again."
And in a short time Roger was attending to the several stout fish lines
that he had baited, and thrown far out upon the passing current.