A DOUBLE FAILURE.
Deerfoot the Shawanoe darted among the trees and ran a hundred yards
with great swiftness. He seemed to avoid the trunks and limbs with the
ease of a bird when sailing through the tree tops.
Coming to a halt, he looked around. He had not followed a direct course
into the woods, but turning to the right, ran parallel to the open space
which bordered the stream. He knew the Pawnees would do their best,
either to capture or kill him. So long as there was a chance of making
him prisoner, they would do him no harm, for the pleasure of acting as
they chose with such a captive was a hundred fold greater than that
which could be caused by his mere death. The American Indian is as fond
of enjoying the suffering of another as is his civilized brother.
The burst of speed in which the youth indulged gave him a position where
it would require some searching on the part of the Pawnees to discover
him; but they were at work, as speedily became evident.
A few seconds only had passed, when he caught sight of several forms
flitting among the trees. While they were separated from each other by
two or three rods, they were not far off, and their actions showed they
had observed him at the same moment he detected them. They made no
outcry, but, spreading still further apart, acted as if carrying out a
plan for surrounding him.
Deerfoot was too wise to presume on his fleetness of foot, and he now
broke into a loping trot which was meant to be neither greater nor less
than the gait of his pursuers. Glancing back he saw they were running
faster than he, whereupon he increased his speed.
Suddenly one of them discharged his gun, and a moment later another shot
was heard. The first bullet sped wide, but the second clipped off a dead
branch just above the head of the fugitive. There was no mistake,
therefore, as to the purpose of those who fired.
It was not the first time that Deerfoot had served as a target for the
rifle of an enemy, and though never wounded, his sensations were any
thing but pleasant. Where a good marksman failed, a poor one was liable
to succeed: for the most wonderful shots are those made by chance.
Deerfoot now ran as fast as he dared, where branches and tree trunks
were so numerous. Glancing to the rear, as he continually did, he
noticed that two of the Pawnees were leading in the pursuit. The thought
came to him that no better time could be selected for teaching them the
superiority of the bow over the rifle.
As he ran, he drew an arrow from the quiver over his shoulder and fitted
it to the string. This was difficult, for the long bow caught in the
obstructions around him and compelled him to slacken his pace. Then,
like a flash, he leaped partly behind a tree and drew the arrow to a
head.
The Pawnees must have been amazed to discover, while in full pursuit of
an enemy, that he had vanished as though swallowed by some opening in
the earth; for the action of the fugitive was so sudden that it was not
observed. They ran several rods further, during which Deerfoot made his
aim sure. As they had discharged their guns, and had not yet slackened
their pace to reload them, he had no fear of being hurt.
All at once the foremost Pawnee saw the long bow, with the gleaming eyes
behind the arrow, whose head was supported by the right hand which
grasped the middle of the bow.
"Whoof!" he gasped, dropping to the earth as if pierced through the
heart. His action saved his life, for a second sooner would have enabled
the matchless archer to withhold the shot, which was as unerring as
human skill could make it. Though the flight of the feather-tipped
missile could be traced when the spectator stood on one side of the
line, yet the individual who was unfortunate enough to serve as a
target, could not detect its approach.
Just as the leader went down, a quick whiz was heard, and the arrow
clove the space over him. Had his companion been in line he would have
been pierced, but he was just far enough to one side, to be taught a
lesson.
The strongly-driven missile went through the fleshy part of his arm, and
sped twenty feet beyond, nipping several branches and twigs before its
force was spent. No doubt the American race as a rule is hardy and
stoical, but the stricken Pawnee acted like a schoolboy. Dropping his
gun, he clasped his hand over the wound, and emitted a yell which
surpassed everything in that line that had been heard during the day.
Even the warrior on the ground called to him to hold his peace, and the
wounded Pawnee, awaking perhaps to a sense of the unbecoming figure he
was cutting, compressed his thin lips and became silent.
But the other took good care to reload and prime his rifle before
rising, and even then he came up with the utmost slowness, peering
toward the tree from which had come the missile. He was not surprised
because he saw nothing of the Shawanoe. Having discharged the weapon, it
was natural that the latter should shelter himself from the bullet that
was to be expected in return. Deerfoot (so reasoned the Pawnee), would
not dare show himself again; but therein the warrior made a mistake.
The latter slowly came up, his form in a crouching position, his head
about four feet above ground, while his eyes were fixed on the tree from
behind which had sped the well nigh fatal missile.
"He will soon show himself," must have been the thought of the Indian,
"the bullet can travel faster than the arrow."
At that moment his companion, who was still clasping his wounded arm,
uttered a warning cry. He had discovered the Shawanoe behind another
tree, aiming a second arrow at the breast of the leader.
With incredible dexterity, Deerfoot had run to a trunk fully twenty
yards from the one which first sheltered him. He crouched so low and
passed so swiftly that he reached the shelter before there was a
possibility of discovery. It was accident which led the second warrior
to detect the long bow, bending almost like a horseshoe, with the arrow
aimed at the other.
The latter could not grasp in an instant the full nature of the peril
which impended, though, as a matter of course, he knew it must be at the
hands of the Shawanoe. He cast one glance around him, and again dropped
on his face, but this time the arrow was quicker than he.
_Zip_ came the missile straight for the brawny chest which never could
have dodged from its path in time to escape; but, as if fate had
determined to interfere, the pointed flint impinged against a tiny
branch protruding from the tree nearest the Pawnee, clipping off enough
of the tender bark to leave a gleaming white spot, and glanced
harmlessly beyond.
Deerfoot was astonished beyond measure. He had discharged two arrows at
the foremost foe, and had failed to harm a hair of him. Such a double
failure had never before taken place in his history.
But the cause was self-manifest. The Indian dodged the first, and the
twig turned the second aside. All this was natural enough, but the fact
which impressed the young Shawanoe was that it would have taken place in
neither case had he used a rifle. Was it a wise thing, therefore, when
months before, he had flung aside his gun and taken up his bow again?
Deerfoot had asked himself the same question more than once since that
time, and the doubt had deepened until he could no longer believe he was
wise in clinging to his bow and arrow, great as was his skill in their
use.
But a third arrow was quickly drawn, and stepping from behind the tree,
so that he stood in full sight, he swung his hand aloft with a defiant
shout, and coolly walked away, as though the warriors were too
insignificant to be noticed further.
The wounded Pawnee was so much occupied with his hurt that he was
willing the youth should leave the neighborhood without further
molestation from him. Taking care to keep an oak fully a foot in
diameter between them, he was content to let him depart in peace.
Not so with the other, who, waiting only long enough to make sure the
back of the youth was toward him, straightened up and brought his rifle
to his shoulder. The distance was considerable, but he ought to have
reached the mark, and probably would have done so, had not a disturbing
cause prevented.
While sighting along the barrel, the startling fact broke upon him that
the face of Deerfoot was toward him, and he was in the act of drawing a
third arrow to the head: He had whirled about almost at the same instant
that the Pawnee leveled his gun. To say the least, it was very
disconcerting, and, anxious to anticipate the Shawanoe, the other fired
before he could be certain of his aim. The bullet went so wide that
Deerfoot heard nothing of its passage among the branches around him.
Although it looked as if the Shawanoe had the other at his mercy, yet he
refrained from discharging the arrow. In fact, his whole action was
designed rather to disconcert the Pawnee than to injure him. Not only
had Deerfoot's confidence in his bow and arrow weakened, but the two
escapes of the Pawnee gave him a half-superstitious belief that it was
intended the latter should not be injured. He, therefore, relaxed the
string of the bow, but, without replacing the arrow in the quiver, he
strode off, continually glancing back to make sure the Pawnee did not
use the advantage thus given him.