Yes, I had seen that foot before; or one so very like it, that the
resemblance was cheating me. This could hardly be. With the exception
of its fellow, the foot of which I was thinking could have no
counterpart on the prairies: it must be the same? At first, my
recollections of it were but vague. I remembered the foot associated
with some ludicrous incidents; but what they were, or when and where
they had occurred, I could not say. Certainly I had seen it somewhere;
but where? No matter: the foot recalled no unpleasant associations. I
felt satisfied it was a _friendly_ one; and was now more anxious than
ever of overtaking its sesquipedalian owner.
After proceeding a short distance, the shoe-tracks again became too
indistinct to be followed farther. By quartering, however, we came upon
them once more--at a place where the impressions were deep and clearly
defined. Once more the immense foot rose upon the _retina_ of my
memory--this time more vividly--this time enabling me to _place_ it: for
I now remembered many an odd incident that had secured it a corner on
the page of my recollections. Sticking through a stirrup with an
enormous Mexican Spur on its heel--its owner mounted on a horse thin and
rawboned as himself--I remembered the foot, as well as the limbs and
body to which it was attached. Beyond a doubt, the tall fugitive we
were following was an old fellow campaigner--a veteran of the "Rifle
Rangers!"
The figure, as seen through the telescope, confirmed me in the belief.
The long limbs, arms, and neck--the thin, angular body--all were
characteristics of the bodily architecture of Jephthah Bigelow. I no
longer doubted that the taller of the two men was my old follower "Jeph
Bigelow," or "Sure-shot," as his Ranger comrades had christened him; and
appropriate was the designation--for a surer shot than Jeph never looked
through the hind-sights of a rifle. Who the little man might turn out
to be, I could not guess--though I was not without some recollections of
a figure resembling his. I remembered a certain Patrick, who was also a
"mimber of the corpse," and whose _build_ bore a close resemblance to
that of him seen between the trams of the barrow. My conjecture as to
who the men were, increased my desire to overtake them. If the tall man
should turn out to be Sure-shot, a rifle would be added to our strength
worth a dozen ordinary guns; and, considering the risk we were running--
in danger of losing our scalps every hour in the day--it was of no small
importance that we should join company with the deserters.
We made every exertion, therefore, to come up with them--my comrade
employing all the lore of the backwoods, in his effort to recover their
traces. The new footmarks we had discovered, though lost the instant
after, had served one good purpose. They indicated the general
direction which the two men had followed; and this was an important
point to be ascertained. We found another index in the trees. These in
most places stood thickly together; and it was only here and there that
an object of such breadth as a wheelbarrow could pass _conveniently_
between their trunks. Carried upon the shoulders, it would be an
awkward load with which to squeeze through any tight place; and it was
reasonable to conclude that only the more open aisles of the forest
would be followed. This enabled us to make pretty sure of the route
taken; and, after trusting to such guidance for several hundred yards,
we had the satisfaction to light once more upon the shoe-tracks. Again
only a short distance were we able to follow them; but they confirmed
our belief that we were still on the right trail. My comrade had
suggested that the man who carried the barrow "wud soon tire o' totin'
it:" and this proved to be the case. On striking into an old
buffalo-path, our eyes were once more gladdened by the sight of the
wheel-track--plainly imprinted in the mud.
"Our prospecting" was for the time at an end. The barrow-track
continued along the buffalo-path; and we were able to follow it, almost
as fast as our legs could carry us. Even after it had grown too dark
for us to see the track of the wheel, we were not disconcerted. We
could follow it by the _feel_--stooping only at intervals to make sure
that it was still among our feet. In this way we had travelled, to the
full distance of a mile from the place where our horses had been left,
when all at once the barrow-track gave out. The buffalo-path continued
on; but no barrow had passed over it, unless carried as before. This
was improbable, however; and we were forced to the conclusion, that the
two men had turned off, by some side-path we had not observed.
While looking for this, a sound reached our ears, that resembled the
murmur of a distant waterfall; but, listening more attentively, we could
distinguish in it a different intonation. We at once moved in the
direction whence the noise came; and before we had advanced a hundred
yards through the thickly standing trees, we were aware that what we
heard was the sound of human voices. Another hundred yards brought us
within hearing of words--at the same time that a luminous reflection
cast upwards upon the trees, indicated that there was a fire at no great
distance off. The underwood hindered us from seeing the fire; but
guided by its gleam, we continued to advance. After making another long
reach through the leafy cover, we got the fire well under our eyes, as
well as those who had kindled it. We had no conjecture as to whether we
had been following the true track, or whether it was the two runaway
travellers we had _treed_. The point was determined by an object seen
standing close to the fire, in the full glare of its ruddy light. Need
I say it was the wheelbarrow?