UNCONGENIAL NEIGHBORS.
Jack Carleton fixed his eyes on his cap, wondering how near the Sank
could come to it. Feeling some misgiving, he took several more steps
backward, until he was fully five yards from the pendant headgear.
_Twang_ went the bow-string, and the next instant something flashed so
close to the eyes of the youth that he winked and flirted his head
backward. The arrow had missed his nose by less than an inch!
"Well, that's the greatest shooting I ever saw!" exclaimed Jack, when he
turned and saw where the missile, after clipping some leaves near at
hand, had fallen to the ground. "Hold on!" he called, with a gesture
which the Sauk understood, "if you are going to try it again, aim at
_me_; then I'll be safe."
Hay-uta was as much astonished as he--so much so, indeed, that he stood
staring, neither smiling nor making any move to launch another shaft.
Jack ran and picked up the arrow that had been discharged, for the
quiver was not full and Deerfoot had none to throw away.
When the youth rejoined the warrior, the latter handed him the bow, as
though glad to be relieved of it, but seeing he had done no harm, he
made a successful attempt to grin.
"Hay-uta, you are not to be blamed because you ain't half as handsome
nor smart as other folks; it is no fault of yours if nature made you a
fool; you are entitled to pity; but if you want to learn something about
handling a bow just study _my_ style."
The reason Jack Carleton talked in this fashion was because he knew the
one whom he addressed could not understand a word of what was said.
Nevertheless, Hay-uta looked upon his actions with interest; for,
feeling assured that the shot could not be as bad as his, the chances
were that it would be much better.
Conscious of what was expected of him, the young Kentuckian (who could
not repress a smile over the performance of the Sauk), did his utmost to
make a shot which would command the admiration of the only spectator
with whom he was favored.
"I'm in a peculiar situation," reflected the youth, as he fitted the
same arrow to the string, "for I am to try to hit a target which I don't
want to hit. I don't suppose there's much danger, but I would like to
beat Hay-uta."
The latter walked to the stump of the limb on which hung the cap, but he
showed his wisdom by dodging behind the trunk of a tree large enough to
shield his body. Jack laughed when he observed him peeping timidly from
behind this cover.
"I'll point a little to one side of my cap," reflected the youth, "and
if I elevate my aim a little, as Deerfoot does, I ought to come pretty
near it."
His manner of discharging the bow was similar to that of the Sauk. He
slowly drew back his right hand, whose thumb and forefinger inclosed the
arrow and string, until his strength was at the highest tension, when he
let go.
The aim could not have been improved, for it was a "bull's eye". The
flint-pointed shaft tore its way through the top of the cap, which was
carried off its support and dropped to the ground with the feathered
part of the missile sticking in the air.
Hay-uta ran from behind the tree, picked up the target with the head of
the arrow tangled in it, and held up the two in view of the young
Kentuckian, who viewed them with dismay.
"Great Caesar!" he exclaimed, "I believe I've ruined my cap!"
But as that which had been done could not be undone, he put on the best
face possible. He waved his hand and nodded his head, as though he was
not unduly proud over his own success.
"That's the way I always manage those things," he said, loftily, "put it
up again."
The Sauk saw what he meant and replaced the cap, from which he first
drew the destructive arrow, with a good deal of recklessness as it
seemed to the owner, who plainly caught the gleam of daylight through
the top, when it slightly oscillated for a moment on its perch.
"I don't suppose another shot will hurt it much, so I'll send this one
right in the track of the first; then Hay-uta will know that my skill is
next to Deerfoot's, and it won't be necessary to do any more shooting
with this plagued bow."
The second missile was launched with more care than the first, Jack
doing his very best to make a center shot; but the result was
astounding: the arrow impinged against the tree behind which the Sauk
had shrunk, chipped away a piece of the bark, and skipped off at a sharp
angle, just as did the glancing missile which slew the ancient king of
England, when hunting in the forest.
It looked to the amateur as if Hay-uta, when he thrust his face from
behind the trunk was grinning to an extent that endangered his ears.
Nothing could have been more eloquent than his gesture, when he pointed
to the untouched cap, then at the tree from which the bark had been
chipped, and then with a still more overwhelming smile indicated the
spot where the erratic arrow lay at rest.
Jack Carleton flung the bow to the ground (as if it were to blame for
his miserable work), but he could not help laughing when the Sauk
brought back cap and arrows, and gravely handed them to him.
"If there was any chance of my hitting the mark," said the youth to
himself, "I might lead him to believe I missed it on purpose, but likely
enough my third shot would be wilder than the second, so I'll resign my
commission."
A brief examination of his cap showed that the shaft had inflicted a
ragged rent, but when the strong material was pushed and doubled
together, a good deal of the air was prevented from entering through the
opening. The arrows were replaced in the quiver, the bow unstrung, and
the two "shook themselves together", as the expression goes.
The forenoon was well along and the air promised to be warmer than on
the previous day, though, where the shade was so abundant, it could not
be oppressive.
It was not likely that any thing would be seen of Deerfoot until he
chose to present himself to them, but, as if in obedience to the same
impulse, the two moved toward the river-bank, which was close at hand.
Jack allowed the Sauk to keep in advance, for he did not mean to make
any observation for himself. They were only a few paces apart when the
lad caught the gleam of water among the trees in front and stopped,
while the warrior stepped to the edge with the guarded step he always
used at such times. While the surface of the river was partially visible
when looking through the limbs, yet the undergrowth almost shut off the
view if one stepped down the sloping bank. Just as he had done many
times before, the Sauk reached his right hand forward and parted the
vegetation, so as to clear the way in front.
A glance was enough; near the middle of the river and almost opposite
where they stood was an Indian canoe containing six Pawnees, two of whom
were paddling the boat straight for the bank on which the Sauk and young
Kentuckian had been practicing archery.
Jack Carleton saw that his friend had made some discovery, and he
stepped quickly to his side. He did not heed the warning gesture of
Hay-uta, and it took only a few seconds to learn the whole truth. Both
moved back, allowing the leaves to close again. The Sauk then lay flat
on his face and the lad did the same; in that posture neither could be
detected by any parties on the river.
It was noteworthy that, although the Pawnees were using no special
caution in crossing the river, and though they were but a few rods
distant, yet the swinging of their paddles and the advance of the canoe
were so noiseless that Hay-uta and Jack only discovered them, as may be
said, by accident.
Without taking time to consider the significance of the proceeding, the
friends on shore must needs use great care to avoid a dangerous
complication. If the Pawnees should learn where they were, the chances
were ten to one that they would either kill or capture both.
There was good ground, however, to hope that delicate as was the
situation of our friends they were likely to escape. Although nearly
opposite to the Sauk, when he first saw the party, and heading as they
were for the spot where he stood, yet the swift current carried the boat
downward, so that it was sure to land a distance below. The footprints
made by Jack Carleton, Hay-uta and Deerfoot did not lie in that
direction, and, therefore, the peril was at its minimum, unless some
impulse should lead the Pawnees to turn and move up stream. It remained
to be seen whether that would be the case.
The two, therefore, lay still, listening and peering into the shrubbery
and undergrowth which grew between them and the margin of the river. The
straining ear was able to catch the faint sound of a ripple against the
prow of the heavy laden canoe, and once or twice the dip of the paddle
was heard. Then the Pawnee who was the leader said something in the
guttural voice peculiar to his race, and one of his warriors answered.
All this was a relief to the couple, for it was proof that no one in the
canoe suspected the truth, they had no thought that two of the parties
whom, most probably, they were seeking, were anywhere near them.
The soft rippling sound which occasionally came to the watchers showed
that the canoe was drifting with the current and that it would land at a
point fully fifty feet below. Hay-uta and Jack ventured to raise their
heads a few inches, and, as they did so, caught a glimpse of the boat
and its occupants, as it ran sharply against the bank and the warriors
began stepping out.
This was a critical moment, and lowering their heads, they pressed the
ground as closely as they could. Jack half wished that some car of
Juggernaut might roll over them, so as to flatten them still more.
The grunting of voices was plainly heard, while the Indians stood close
to the boat and discussed some question. Had Jack and his companion
raised their heads, as they did a few minutes before, they would have
seen every one of them. The Sauk did elevate his nose, just enough to
gain an indistinct view of the nearest Pawnee, but the youthful
Kentuckian lay with his ear against the ground. Soft as were the
footfalls of their enemies, the sound reached him through the better
conducting medium of the earth.
"Suppose the Pawnees _do_ come this way--what then?"
This was the question which, presented itself to the youth, and which,
naturally enough, caused him misgiving, for, beyond all doubt, the peril
was critical. If the Pawnees moved up stream, nothing could save the two
from discovery, and it then would be two against six--all brave and well
armed. The former could make no stand before a force three times as
strong as they, and their situation could scarcely be improved by
flight. Grave as was the crisis, it was rendered still graver by the
fact that Jack and Hay-uta could not talk to each other. At such a time,
a perfect understanding must exist between the members of the weaker
force, and I have shown that in the present instance, that was
impossible.
"Ah, if Deerfoot were only here," was the prayer that trembled on Jack
Carleton's lips more than once, while he lay on the ground listening to
the grumble of voices so close at hand.
"It was queer on his part any way," added the youth, following the line
of thought forced upon him; "just when we need him the most he is gone;
the Sauk is a good fellow, but he can't compare with Deerfoot. Helloa!"
he muttered, noticing a movement on the part of Hay-uta, "something is
up."