AN INVISIBLE CHASE
Deep in a shadowed glade sat the five, eating a quiet breakfast, and
talking in low tones of satisfaction.
"I knew that you would come," said Paul, "and when I heard the four cries
of the wolf I knew, too, that all four of you were there. When you sent
the call Braxton Wyatt, who alone might have suspected, was asleep. The
Spanish commander was awake, and he was troubled, but he did not know
why."
"Wa'al, I guess he knows now," said Shif'less Sol with a silent but deep
laugh. "Ef he's the kind o' man you say he is, Paul, an' I guess he is--he
needed our teachin' him a lesson. I hate a man who knows too much, who is
too almighty certain, an' I guess the Spaniard is one o' that kind. Think
o' him comin' out here in the woods, breakin' faith, so to speak, an'
holdin' you, Paul. Ef I wuz to go over to Europe, which I ain't ever goin'
to do--an' wuz to light down in one o' them big cities, Paris or London,
do you think I'd tell the fellers in the streets that I knowed more about
their town than they did?"
"No, Sol," said Paul, "you're too wise a man ever to do such a thing."
"I should hope I wuz," said Sol emphatically. "Jest think o' me stoppin' a
lot o' French fellers in the streets o' Paris, me jest happened in from
the woods fur the fust time, an' sayin' to them: 'Here, Bob, be keerful
how you cross the street thar, it's a right bad spot fur wagons, an' you'd
shorely git run over ef you tried it,' or 'Now, Dick, that thar is the
wrong street that you're takin', ef you foller it you'll land a full mile
from your cabin.'"
"But Frenchmen are not named Bob and Dick," said Paul with a smile.
"Wa'al ef they ain't they ought to be," said the shiftless one with
conviction. "Why they want to call theirselves by all them long names
nobody can pronounce, when there are a lot o' good, nice, short, handy
names like Dick, an' Jim, an' Bill, an' Bob, an' Hank, layin' 'roun' loose
an' jest beggin' to be used, is more'n I kin understand."
"We must soon decide what to do," said Henry. "If the Spanish captain
concludes to help the Indians, and with Braxton Wyatt at his elbow I think
he is likely to do it, our people in Kentucky will again be in great
danger. We must drive the Spaniards back to New Orleans."
"I agree with you," said Paul, "but how is it to be done?"
"Mebbe we kin shoo 'em back, skeer 'em, so to speak," said Shif'less Sol.
"We're jest bound to keep Spain out o' this country."
"It is true," said Paul. "Great things grow out of little ones. Such a
land as this is sure to have a great population some day and what we five
do now, obscure and few as we are, may help to decide what that population
is to be."
As Paul spoke, his comrades and the shadowed glen floated away, and the
look of seer came upon him. Again he saw great towns and a nation. The
others regarded him with a little awe. The spiritual, or rather prophetic,
quality in Paul always had their deep respect.
"Paul shorely does take mighty long looks ahead," whispered Shif'less Sol
to Henry, "an' sometimes I can't follow him clean to the end. I mostly
drop by the way. I like to live this very minute, an' I'm pow'ful glad to
be alive right now. But I'm with him clean to the finish o' our big job."
Henry nodded and presently he and the shiftless one went away through the
woods. Paul, Ross, and Long Jim remained lying at ease in the forest--Paul
had learned the great wilderness lesson of patience--and about noon the
two returned. They had been spying upon the Spanish camp, and they
reported that Alvarez and his men had not moved.
"They seem to be waiting for something," said Henry. "Braxton Wyatt is
still with them, and they have posted more sentinels in a wider circle. I
don't believe they will move camp for several days. So long as they keep
theirs there, we'll keep ours here."
"O' course," said the shiftless one. "We must keep the watch."
Several days passed and there was little to do. One or another of the
five at times crept close to the Spanish camp, and always reported that
the men there were lounging at their ease and still waiting. Now and then
the Spaniards hunted in detachments, usually guided by Braxton Wyatt, and
brought in both deer and buffalo. On the fourth day Henry and Paul also
went hunting.
"The country west of here," said Henry, "opens out into a big prairie, and
we may see something worth seeing."
Paul did not ask what it was, content to go and see, and the two, rifle on
shoulder, slipped away through the woods, taking a direct, western course.
Paul noticed that the country soon became much less hilly, and that the
forest thinned. After a while hills and forest ceased altogether and the
two stood upon the edge of a wide sweep of gently rolling, open country,
extending so far that it met the horizon.
"Look," said Henry. "A great prairie!"
"And look what's on it!" exclaimed Paul.
Henry laughed and glanced at his comrade's pleased face. As far as the eye
could reach the prairie was covered with a multitude of great, dark
animals, grazing on the short, sweet grass. Near by these animals, as Paul
saw, were a few feet apart, but further on they seemed to blend into one
solid, black, but heaving mass.
"A real buffalo herd," said Henry.
Paul had seen buffaloes often in Kentucky, but there they were usually in
small groups of a dozen or so, owing to the wooded nature of the country,
and now he looked for the first time upon a great herd, twenty thousand,
thirty thousand, maybe more--one could not calculate. The spectacle
appealed greatly to his imaginative temperament.
"What a grand sight!" he said.
"Yes," said Henry, "it is wonderful, but, Paul, this is nothing to what
you can see on the great plains. When I was a captive with the
northwestern Indians I've seen a herd that was passing our party all day,
and it was also so wide you could not see across it."
They stood there some time looking. The huge, savage bulls were on the
outskirts of the herd, and just beyond them at the fringe of the forest
were snarling timber wolves, waiting for a chance to drag down some
careless calf, or a bull weakened to the last degree by old age.
As the two youths looked they heard a shot and saw a movement among the
buffaloes. Another shot followed and then a half dozen. The portion of the
herd near by seemed suddenly to contract and to roll in upon itself. The
waiting wolves disappeared in the woods, and snorts of terror arose from
the herd.
"There they are! I see them!" exclaimed Paul. "It is the Spaniards, sure
enough!"
Five or six men in the Spanish military attire burst from the forest, not
more than a hundred yards away, and continued to fire as fast as they
could into the herd.
"How foolish!" exclaimed Henry. "Either they are wasting their shots or if
they don't waste them they are killing far more buffaloes than they can
use!"
The boys withdrew into a thicket, as they did not wish to be seen by the
Spaniards, and watched closely. The soldiers continued to reload and fire
and uttered shouts of joy whenever a buffalo fell. Transported by
excitement they scattered, and one man ran down near Paul and Henry,
detaching himself unconsciously from the rest of his comrades.
This Spaniard was young and athletic, and he fired at a huge bull. Had he
been an experienced hunter, he would have known better, as the bull was
too big and tough to eat, and he was also one of the savage guardians of
the herd. Moreover, the Spaniards were armed mostly with muskets, a weapon
far inferior to the Kentucky rifle.
This great bull stung in the flank, but stung only, uttered a roar of
pain, and, sharp horns down, charged directly upon the young Spaniard. He
was a terrifying sight as he tore up the grass of the prairie, his red
eyes flaming. The Spaniard, appalled, dropped his musket and ran for the
woods, the great beast thundering at his heels, and his hot breath, in
fancy at least, upon his back. Both Paul and Henry at that instant
recognized him. It was one of the unfortunate sentinels. Luiz.
"I'll save him," said Henry, "but keep back, Paul! Don't let him see you!"
The Spaniard was about to reach the edge of the wood, but another jump
would bring the raging buffalo upon him. His foot caught among some roots
and with a despairing cry he fell upon his face. But as he struck the
ground there was a sharp, lashing report, far different from the dull boom
of a musket, and the great animal suddenly ploughed forward on his head.
So violent was his plunge, as he was stricken in mid-charge, that his neck
was broken, and, after his crashing fall, he lay quite still.
The young Spaniard, Luiz, sprang to his feet unharmed, and he was
confronted by a figure that startled him, the figure of a very tall and
powerful youth, clad wholly in deerskin, leaning on a long, slender
barreled Kentucky rifle, and looking at him contemplatively. So sudden was
his appearance and so fixed his gaze that Luiz, although joyful over his
escape from death, was startled and awed. His adventure of a few nights
before when he was seized, bound, and gagged by unseen but powerful hands
had left him shaken, and now his brain was whirling.
The young Spaniard stared at the figure, which neither moved nor spoke,
but which returned his gaze with a fixed look. Was it a spirit, or was it
really one of the Americans? But whatever it was, it had, beyond a doubt,
saved his life, and deep down in his Spanish heart he was not ungrateful.
"Thanks, Señor!" he stammered. "Your shot--it came just in time!"
The apparition spoke, but only a few words.
"We are your friends, not your enemies, don't forget," it said, and the
startled Luiz rubbed his eyes. The figure of the great youth was gone. It
had been there and then it was not there, and only some bushes, waving
slightly, told where it had been. He regained his musket, and, still
bewildered, rejoined his comrades to tell them a story that they did not
more than half believe.
Henry, laughing a little, returned to Paul. It had been a simple trick. He
had merely darted away among the bushes, while Luiz was still in a daze.
"I did not want to see the man killed," he said, "and maybe we have sowed
a good seed, that will grow up in time, and produce something."
"It may be," added Paul.
They went a little farther into the forest and watched the Spaniards
finish their hunt, gather up as much of their game as they could carry,
and depart. When they were well out of sight, Henry and Paul went to a
slain cow that the soldiers had neglected, cut out some of the choicest
portions, and took the way to their own camp.
"I think the Spaniards are likely to be disturbed over what has happened,"
said Henry.
In fact, the shiftless one, who was the scout the following night,
returned with a story that the Spanish camp was greatly agitated. Braxton
Wyatt and Alvarez were positive that the five were still lingering
somewhere near, but the uneducated soldiers were not sure that a spirit
was not lurking in the wilderness. It might be a beneficent spirit, as it
had saved Luiz, but, on the other hand, it had taken away the American
prisoner, and they were afraid of the unknown and mysterious. These vast,
dark woods were so different from the open and sunny plains of Spain,
where a man knew what to expect, that they were inspired with awe.
Yet Alvarez would not move, so Shif'less Sol reported. He seemed to be
still waiting for something, and on the following night Henry, Paul, and
Shif'less Sol went forth to watch the Spanish camp again.
"I've a feelin' in me," said the shiftless one, "that somethin' is goin'
to happen to-night. I often have these feelin's, omens some people call
'em, min'-readin' other people say. I notice that I gena'lly have 'em jest
about when all the circumstances show that things are comm' to a head,
jest ez ef Paul here wuz to feel along about 6 or 7 o'clock in the
afternoon that sundown couldn't be fur away. You can't beat it. Now when
I've gone fifteen or eighteen hours without food I have a feelin'--an'
it's a strong one, too--that I'm goin' to be hungry, an' I'm sca'cely ever
mistook, jest ez I've got a feelin' when the skies are filled with big
black clouds that it's liable to rain purty soon. I tell you, Paul, it's a
great thing to have this here power you call second sight."
The three walked steadily on in Indian file through the forest, their
trained feet making no sound among the trunks and brushes. The night was
dark, just suited to their purpose, and clouds floated up to dim the
skies. No stars came out, and the moon was hidden. By and bye the wind
rose, and dashes of rain were whipped into their faces.
But the three did not mind. Such things as these had become trifles to
them long since. Henry led with sure step, Shif'less Sol came next, and
Paul brought up the rear. Henry stopped after a while, and sank down
among the bushes. The other two did likewise, and, after a little pause in
which they heard nothing, they began to creep forward, taking the utmost
care to make not even the slightest sound. They saw presently through the
trees and bushes a faint red shade that grew fast to a glow and then to a
glare.
Henry stopped, sank lower, and beckoned to his comrades. They crept to his
side and looked over a steep little cliff directly upon the Spanish camp.
Most of the soldiers were grouped about a large camp fire, and Francisco
Alvarez was among them in a place of honor.
Hidden in the deep shrubbery the three occupied points of vantage, and,
while secure from observation themselves, they could easily see all that
passed in the glade. Several tents had been set, although the flaps were
wide open and within one of these sat Francisco Alvarez in all the
gorgeous attire of a Spanish officer, most fastidious in his taste. The
gold on his uniform glittered, the lace on his cuffs was snowy and fresh,
and the polished hilt of his small sword gleamed in the firelight. He had
the air of one who expected distinguished guests.
"Now I wonder what has become of Braxton Wyatt," whispered Paul. Nowhere
could he see a sign of the renegade.
"He is coming," whispered Henry, who had what Shif'less Sol would have
called an intuition.
Two of the Spaniards heaped more wood upon the fire. The logs crackled
and blazed merrily, casting long tongues of flame across the glade, and
sending a grateful heat into the veins of the warm-blooded Southerners.
The flurries of rain ceased, and the skies brightened a little. A star or
two peeped out.
"Ah!" said Henry in the lowest of whispers, "here they come!"
The bushes at the far side of the glade parted and three figures came into
the open. They took but two or three steps forward and then stopped full
in the blaze of the firelight, where every feature showed like carving in
the red glow.
The hidden watchers recognized at once the three who had come. They were
Braxton Wyatt, Yellow Panther the Miami chief, and Red Eagle the Shawnee
chief. Paul repressed a little cry of amazement that he should see the two
Indian leaders so far from the territory of their tribes. They must intend
much to come such a journey.
Braxton Wyatt stepped back a little, as if having performed his function
of guide he would now remain awhile in the background, but the two great
chiefs stood motionless, side by side, magnificent specimens of savage
life, bronze of skin, tall of figure, powerful of chest, thin, eagle-like
faces, and defiant scalp-locks waving above. The imaginative Paul, seeing
how well they fitted into the wilderness scene, was forced to admire. The
firelight flickered and blazed over them, but they were immovable in all
their savage dignity. Henry put his hand upon Paul's shoulder, and pressed
gently. It was an intimation to look with all his eyes and listen with
all attention. But Paul did not need the hint.
Francisco Alvarez also was impressed. He loved the towns and luxury, but
he had acuteness and perception, and he knew that these were strong men of
their kind, men with whom he must deal according to the courtesy of the
woods. He rose from his tent, bowed to them, and walked forward. He
himself was a splendid figure in his gorgeous uniform, and his carriage
was marked by dignity.
"Now see them salute," whispered the shiftless one in Paul's ear.
Braxton Wyatt stepped forward again, produced a pipe with a beautifully
carved horn handle, and filled it carefully with tobacco, which he lighted
with a coal from the fire. Then he handed it to Red Eagle, who was the
older of the chiefs, and Red Eagle gravely took a half dozen whiffs. Then
he passed it to Yellow Panther, who did likewise, and the chief in his
turn handed it to the Spanish commander. Alvarez smoked gravely for a half
minute, and then Braxton Wyatt took the pipe.
"Now for the big confab," whispered Sol.
Fine buffalo robes were spread before the fire, and the three leaders and
Braxton Wyatt sat upon them. All others kept at a respectful distance. The
four began to talk and, although only an occasional word reached the
watching three, they knew too well their subject of converse. It was the
great conspiracy to draw the Spanish from Louisiana into an attack upon
the infant settlements, upon the ground that they were or would be
interlopers. It was cannon that the assailants needed to smash the block
houses, and cannon in abundance could be brought on the great rivers from
New Orleans.
The watchers presently saw Braxton Wyatt take a small parcel from the
inside of his deerskin hunting shirt. He unfolded the parcel and the
watchers could see that it consisted of large pieces of the finest, tanned
deerskin.
"Maps," said Paul intuitively. "That scoundrel, Braxton Wyatt, has made
them for the aid of the Spanish, and to disclose all our weak points!"
The fire blazed higher and they could see that on the white deerskin were
drawn lines in colored pigment, and the rest they guessed. It was true
enough. Braxton Wyatt, no mean draughtsman, had drawn, with the most
elaborate care and attention to detail, maps on a large scale of every one
of the infant settlements. There was nothing about Wareville in particular
that he did not show, and he also designated all the rivers, hills, and
valleys as far as they were known. With such aid a Spanish force, backed
by cannon and the warriors, must triumph over every post in Kentucky.
"I never thought of this," whispered Paul. Henry merely pressed his
shoulder again to indicate that they were ready to deal with it, if man
could.
The three watchers remained there more than an hour, and Alvarez, Wyatt,
and the chiefs still discussed the maps with every appearance of
agreement, bending their heads over them, and now and then disclosing
eager faces, as they lifted them in the firelight.
"Alvarez wants to help them," whispered Paul. "He hates us, and, if he
can, he will commit the Governor of Louisiana to the Indian alliance."
"Beyond a doubt," replied Henry, "and so it's not worth while for us to
wait here any longer."
They slid away in the dark and returned to their own camp. There Long Jim
and Tom Ross were placidly awaiting them, and they were not at all
surprised at the news. Then the five held another of their conferences.
"I think it likely," said Paul, "that Alvarez will go back at once to New
Orleans. He will tell the Governor there that armed bands of Americans are
trespassing upon Spanish territory and that they must be driven off. He
will come back with cannon and a powerful force to do the driving. That
means war, of course, and an attack upon us in Kentucky. How will the
Governor of New Orleans know whether the fighting is on Spanish territory
or not? And even if Alvarez overstepped the limits he could say that he
was attacked first."
"Of course," said Henry, "and it means that we must follow Alvarez all the
way to New Orleans if necessary, and it may be that we shall have to carry
the message of the Kentuckians to Bernardo Galvez, the Spanish Governor
General himself."
"We're ready," said Shif'less Sol lazily. "I wouldn't mind seein' that
furrin town. I saw a town once when I wuz a little boy. It wuz Baltimore,
an' a pow'ful big place it wuz, most nigh set my head to swimmin'. I
heard tell that ez many ez eight or ten thousand people lived thar. Sounds
impossible but some o' 'em swore it wuz true."
"We'll prepare at once for the journey," said Henry.
All set to work.