CHAPTER XIV.

IN THE TREE-TOP.

When Deerfoot and Hay-uta parted company with Jack Carleton, he feared

he had several hours on his hands without any means of employing mind or

body. The active operations of the campaign, so to speak, were in charge

of the Sauk and Shawanoe division, while the young Kentuckian in reserve

had little prospect of being called upon to take part in the engagement.

But Jack, it will be noted, was almost opposite the open ground, whereon

burned the Pawnee camp-fire, and, by using care, he could hold it under

inspection as long as he chose. He had his choice of peeping from the

trees and undergrowth along shore, or of climbing the tree from whose

top the Shawanoe and Sank gained their first knowledge of the Pawnees.

Nearly every one would have stayed on the ground, but in obedience to a

whim, the lad climbed to the perch where his friends held themselves a

short time before. He carried his gun with him, for though it would have

been much more convenient to leave it below, the act would have been a

piece of remissness unpardonable in his situation. When, however, he was

half-way to the top, he carefully shelved it among some branches, where

it could not fall. He continued to climb until the limbs bent with his

weight. Cautious at all times, Jack then softly pushed aside the

branches in front of his face and found he was looking directly across

and down upon the Pawnee encampment.

At the moment of doing so, a slight incident caused him some uneasiness.

Among the group on which he gazed with such interest, he observed a

warrior standing on the other side of the fire, rifle in hand, with his

face turned toward the young Kentuckian. Not only that, but he seemed to

be watching Jack himself. So startling was his appearance, that the

youth shrank back, allowing the vegetation to close in front of his

face. This was done with a certain abruptness, which (if he was right in

his suspicion), was unfortunate, since the action would be the more

noticeable to the Pawnee. Then Jack stealthily parted the leaves and

peered out again.

The warrior was motionless, the stock of his gun on the ground, while

his right hand lightly clasped the barrel, his left thumb inserted at

his girdle, close to the handle of his knife, much after the fashion of

some of us who use the arm holes of our vests for that purpose.

The distance, slight as it was, prevented Jack Carleton from verifying

or disproving his suspicion. The painted face was turned directly toward

him and held stationary, as is often the case when a person is trying to

identify some sound which faintly reaches his ear. Had he been gazing

straight at the lad, he would have appeared just as he did when

stealthily viewed by the youth.

"I wonder whether that rascal is looking at me," said Jack to himself,

when he peeped timidly out the second time; "they're as sharp-eyed as

owls, but he never could have thought of any one in this perch, if he

hadn't accidentally looked at the spot. I'm afraid it would mix things

for Hay-uta and Deerfoot, if any of them should get a sight of me."

He was reminded of the experience of himself and Otto Relstaub when,

some weeks before, they were made captives by the Sauks, within a short

distance of Martinsville. At that time, one or two of the warriors,

while the boys were watching them, walked away from the camp in such an

off-hand manner, that neither dreamed their real purpose was to pass to

the rear of the prowlers and make them prisoners.

"I'll keep my eyes on him," was the wise conclusion of Jack, "and if he

starts off in the woods, I'll slide down this tree and make a change of

base in short order."

To the great relief of Jack the warrior did not maintain his impressive

pose, nor did he do what was dreaded and half expected. One of the red

men addressed him and he immediately gave attention.

"It was only an accident," was the conclusion of the youth; "he couldn't

have seen me--helloa!"

Jack had full warrant for his excitement, for, at that moment, who

should walk into his field of vision but Deerfoot, the young Shawanoe.

He advanced from the wood as I have already described, and saluting the

astonished Pawnees with a certain stateliness, opened the conversation.

He was not long in discovering that Lone Bear was the only one with whom

he could converse intelligently, and the two, as you remember, were soon

seated beside each other. It was Lone Bear who, at the first glance,

Jack Carleton thought was looking at him.

The dread that the boy felt, when first left alone, that time would hang

heavily on his hands was gone. He knew the Shawanoe well enough to feel

certain that he would keep things moving.

And so he did. I will not repeat the story of Deerfoot's experience,

which partook more of a comedy than of a tragedy. The young Kentuckian

held his breath when Lone Bear drew his knife and rushed upon the

Shawanoe, and his excitement was almost irrestrainable as the latter

began dancing backward with his infuriated assailant plunging and

striking at him. When the Pawnee sprawled, with his feet kicking the

air, Jack forgot where he was and laughed with delight.

"Hurrah for Deerfoot!" he called; "the whole crowd ain't enough for you!

you are worth all of them!"

The Pawnees were on their feet hurrying toward the combatants, and

scarcely less excited than the young Kentuckian perched in the tree-top.

But, stirring as was the incident, it was very brief. With the

exceptions already made known, the red men dashed into the woods in hot

pursuit of the fugitive.

"Deerfoot against the world!" exclaimed Jack, jerking off his cap, as

though he was about to fling it toward the clouds, but he restrained

himself and the cheer which could not be locked between his lips was so

impeded in its escape that it reached no ears on the other side the

river.

"Deerfoot beats the beaters," he added, bringing his feelings under

control; "I don't believe there ever was such a fellow; it must be that

Providence intends him for some work, and like Washington he can not be

killed until that work is done."

Jack had made a similar remark to his mother, when they were talking

about the Shawanoe some weeks previous, and he now recalled with a

shudder her comment, to the effect that the slightest of causes would

bring death to him just as quickly as to any one else, and, sooner or

later, he must succumb to the inevitable. It seemed not unlikely that

the prowess of the young Shawanoe was an element of peril to him, since

he relied too much upon it.

But the youth had eluded the hostiles, when they seemed about to

overwhelm him, and Jack was confident now that he had the cover of the

woods, where he was at home, that he could laugh his enemies to scorn.

The reports of guns, however, which reached his ears, could not but

produce a disquieting effect, which the lad felt for a long time

afterward.

"I wonder whether any one could have heard me," he muttered some minutes

later, when his nerves became calmer. "I forgot myself, as the Indians

themselves did, but I guess no one noticed it."

That prudence which should never leave the frontiersman, suggested that

he ought to descend the tree, and seek some other place of hiding.

Unfortunately, he decided to stay for awhile where he was.

There was much to occupy his attention, and keep alive his interest; for

the discomfited Lone Bear and his mock sympathizers were in plain sight,

and the gesticulations were so clear that it seemed to Jack he could

comprehend the words spoken.

But the most stirring scenes lose in time their interest, and, despite

the situation of Jack Carleton, it was not long before his thoughts

reverted to Otto Relstaub.

"Poor fellow," he muttered, "it does seem as if every thing went wrong

with him; I have no father, but if I had, he could love me no more than

mother. With Otto, however, it is a thousand fold worse, for he is

treated as if he were an intruder in his own home. He has been abused,

almost starved, and, to crown all, sent into the woods to look for a

horse that was lost a long time before, and of which there remains not

the faintest footprint. I wonder whether they will ever grieve for Otto

if we go back and tell them he is dead?"

When Jack pondered over the cause which led his friend to leave home, he

could not express his feelings. To him there was something

incomprehensible in the brutality of the parents toward their only

child. He was tempted to believe it was all a great mistake.

But second thought showed there was no error, and he asked himself

whether there was any ground to hope that the German lad was alive, and,

if so, whether he could be restored to his friends.

The fact that Otto was not among the group on the other side of the

stream, added to the misgiving. Hay-uta had made known that he

recognized members of the strange party of Indians to whom the boy was

sold. If they had kept their captive, where else could he be except with

them?

"Every thing points to his death," was the sad conclusion of Jack; "it

isn't likely they would trade him off to some one else."

Indeed, to believe such a thing would be to give the captive an

unreasonable value as a circulating medium; it was far more likely that,

finding his presence a burden, his captors had settled it in the most

natural manner that presented itself.

A still darker side to the picture caused Jack to shudder. If the

captors of Otto Relstaub had put him to death, was it by a quick taking

off, or had he been subjected to torture? Alas, that Jack Carleton was

forced to answer the query as he most dreaded.

"But, if he _is_ dead," he added, with a sigh, "he perished long ago,

and it can make no difference _now_ to him; but I ain't ready to give up

all hope and I won't do so, so long as Deerfoot holds on."

Forcing the distressing subject from his mind, the youth compelled

himself to give attention to what could be seen on the other side of the

river. Lone Bear and Red Wolf were seated by the camp-fire, talking

together, as has been told elsewhere, but the rest of the hostiles were

out of sight. Jack naturally wondered the cause of the sudden quarrel

that had sprung up between Deerfoot and the warrior who figured so

ridiculously in it, but he could only await the return of the Shawanoe

to hear the explanation.

The excitement of the lad boiled over again, when, with eyes roaming up

and down the open space, he caught sight of his old friend, standing,

bow in hand, on the edge of the wood. His pose showed he was making

ready to give attention to the unsuspicious hostiles.

"I wonder whether he means to send an arrow through one, and follow it

up with a second through another, before he can get out of their way. It

may be that Deerfoot isn't as chivalrous as he pretends to be; give him

a chance, and, if he thinks no one sees him, he will swing his tomahawk

and use his knife right and left."

But we know that Jack did his friend an injustice, as speedily became

apparent, when none of the arrows which sped from the large bow harmed

either of the Pawnees. Their frantic flight and the laughter of Deerfoot

proved that he had done precisely what he set out to do; he had given

the couple a shock which they were not likely to forget for many a day.

The occurrence was so amusing that Jack parted the branches in front of

his face and waved his hat to Deerfoot. If the latter saw the act of

forgetfulness, he was so displeased that he paid no attention to it.

When he vanished from sight in the wood behind him, he gave no

responsive salute to that of his enthusiastic young friend.

Footprints in the Forest · 第 14 / 33 章