A NIGHT OF ANXIETY
As the signals were not repeated, Spotted Deer feared that his foes were
approaching each other with the hope of trapping him between them. He
realized that he must act quickly. For a moment only he studied his
predicament. If he attempted to dash down the river, the odds were
against him. He felt certain that there were two of his foes in each
canoe, and he also knew that the weight of the game in his own canoe
would be a serious handicap to his speed. It seemed folly, therefore, to
attempt an open race for safety. Still, he knew that if he remained upon
the water there would be little chance of avoiding his foes. There
seemed but one thing to do, and that was to hide in the woods until the
canoemen passed. He resolved to try the ruse.
Night had fallen, and forest and river were cloaked in darkness. Aware
that his foes might have come within bow-shot, Spotted Deer realized
that each moment was precious. Turning toward the shore he maneuvered
the canoe with rare skill. It glided forward as easily and silently as a
drifting leaf until Spotted Deer stopped it at the edge of the bushes.
He tested the depth of the water with his paddle. It was shallow. He
waited a moment or so, listening for a warning of danger. All was still.
Feeling secure, Spotted Deer stepped from the canoe and waded toward the
shore. As he left the water, he again stopped to listen. He heard a
splash a short distance below him. His heart beat wildly. He believed
that his foes were close at hand. There seemed little chance of
concealing the canoe before they found him. He listened in breathless
suspense. In a few moments he heard another splash. This time it gave
him relief. He had recognized it as the signal of Amoch, the beaver,
slapping the water with his great broad tail.
"Amoch," Spotted Deer murmured, softly.
He moved cautiously along the edge of the woods until he found an
opening in the undergrowth. Then he drew the bow of the canoe from the
water. Stooping, he seized the fore legs of the buck and dragged it from
the canoe. It was a difficult task as the deer was heavy and Spotted
Deer feared to make a sound. When the buck was safely on the ground, he
drew the canoe into the bushes. Then he crouched behind it to watch and
listen for the approach of his foes.
If his enemies passed, Spotted Deer planned to launch his canoe and slip
noiselessly down the river. However, he disliked to abandon the deer. It
seemed like presenting it to his foes. The idea irritated him. For an
instant he determined to take it. Then he suddenly realized the folly of
placing himself at a disadvantage.
"Perhaps they will not find it," he told himself, comfortingly.
At that moment he heard a low, indistinct sound on the water. He
listened. Long, anxious moments passed. The silence was unbroken.
Spotted Deer wondered if he had been deceived. He waited in trying
suspense to learn if his fears were real.
"There is no one there," he said, finally.
Then the call of Gokhos, the owl, sounded directly before his hiding
place. It was low, and soft, and querulous, and he realized why it had
seemed so far away when he heard it before. He listened anxiously for
the sound of voices, but the signal was followed by silence. Spotted
Deer watched eagerly for the canoe, but it was hidden in the darkness.
He wondered if it had passed. He listened for the slightest clew, but
heard nothing which would tell him what he wished to know. He waited
impatiently for an answer to the call. Many moments passed before he
heard it. At last it echoed weirdly across the water. Spotted Deer tried
to locate it. He decided that it came from the north. It convinced him
that his foes were searching along both sides of the river.
Spotted Deer tried to guess the identity of the mysterious canoemen. He
believed that they were Mohawks. The thought filled him with alarm. It
suggested disturbing possibilities. They might be scouts moving down the
river to spy upon the Delaware camp. Perhaps a war party was following
close behind them. The idea filled him with gloom. He knew that the
unsuspecting Delawares were totally unprepared for an attack, and he
feared to think what might happen if a strong force of Mohawks should
suddenly appear before the village. The possibility roused him. His
heart filled with a reckless resolve to help his people. He determined
to ignore his own peril, and slip away to warn the Delawares.
"Yes, yes, I must go," Spotted Deer told himself.
He listened for further sounds from his foes. As he heard nothing to
arouse his suspicions he determined to begin his perilous journey down
the river. Aware that the slightest sound might betray him, he drew the
canoe toward the water with infinite care. After he had gone a
bow-length he stopped to listen. All was quiet. Spotted Deer felt
encouraged. Slowly, carefully, a bow-length at a time, he dragged the
canoe to the river. When he reached the water he stopped and stared
anxiously into the night. Then he stepped into the canoe, and pushed it
from the shore.
Once afloat, Spotted Deer believed that he would be safer in the center
of the river. The signals had sounded near the shore, and he felt sure
that his enemies would expect to find him hiding in the heavy shadows
from the forest. The entire river was shrouded in darkness, and Spotted
Deer was unable to see more than a bow-length beyond his canoe. He
paddled slowly, moving his paddle through the water to avoid making the
slightest sound. Realizing that at any moment he might collide with his
foes, he was alert and ready for an emergency.
Spotted Deer had gone several arrow flights when he suddenly heard
voices. They were close by. He stopped his canoe, and attempted to
locate the sounds. The talk had ceased. Spotted Deer wondered if his
foes were as near as they had seemed. He knew that voices might be heard
a long distance over water, and he realized that the sounds might have
come from near the shore. He determined to make sure. His canoe drifted
slowly with the water. He made no effort to stop it. It was an easy and
noiseless way of slipping down he river.
In a few moments Spotted Deer again caught the low, ominous murmur of
subdued voices. This time he located the sounds. They seemed to be
directly ahead of him. The discovery alarmed him. He stopped his canoe
and turned abruptly from his course. Having performed the maneuver
without a sound, Spotted Deer hoped to pass safely by his foes. He had
taken only a few paddle strokes, however, when he discovered a long,
black object squarely in his path. There was no time to turn. Throwing
all his strength into a quick deep stroke of his paddle, Spotted Deer
crashed bow foremost against the side of a canoe. It immediately
capsized and spilled its astounded occupants into the river. By the time
they rose from beneath the water, the wily young Delaware had
disappeared into the night.
Spotted Deer paddled furiously down the middle of the river. His eyes
twinkled merrily as he heard the angry shouts of the men in the water.
They were calling wildly to their companions. Spotted Deer grew serious
when he heard their appeals answered from various parts of the river. He
suddenly realized that he had encountered a strong force of his enemies.
However, having successfully eluded them he was hopeful of getting away.
Then he heard the long, piercing shriek of Nianque, the lynx, some
distance farther down the river. The cry had sounded perfectly natural,
and still, under the circumstances, he mistrusted it. He ceased paddling
and listened suspiciously. Precious moments passed. The call was not
repeated. The cries and signals from his foes had stopped. An ominous
hush had settled upon the forest. Spotted Deer feared it. He believed
that the lynx cry had carried a warning.
"It is bad," he whispered.
Fearing to loiter, he moved cautiously down the river. He wondered if
crafty scouts were waiting to intercept him. Could he escape them? The
possibility of another collision with his mysterious foes tried his
courage. Still, he believed that his safest plan was to continue on his
way. Night was his ally, and he hoped to pass safely in the darkness. He
felt quite sure that his foes were close behind him. He feared that they
would soon overtake him. The thought made him reckless. He resolved to
continue down the river.
Spotted Deer paddled desperately to keep ahead of his pursuers. He
believed that they would separate and again attempt to trap him between
them. The thought made him wary. He determined to keep in the center of
the river, as he feared that his foes were on both sides of him. His one
chance seemed to be to go ahead. He realized that even that course might
bring him into contact with some lurking foe. The mysterious lynx cry
still lingered in his mind. It depressed him. If it had been a signal,
he felt almost certain that he would find his enemies waiting for him
farther down the river.
It was not long before Spotted Deer saw his suspicions confirmed. He was
astounded to see the river ahead of him brightly illuminated. On each
shore a great fire was blazing fiercely at the edge of the water. The
light from the flames spread far out over the river. Spotted Deer
realized that it would be impossible to pass without being seen. His
heart filled with despair. He appeared to have run into a trap. There
seemed to be slight chance of escape. He paddled wildly toward the
shore. Sheltered by the darkness, he hoped to elude the foes who had
pursued him down the river. He was within bow-shot of the woods when he
heard the careless splash of a paddle close behind him. Aware that he
had been discovered, Spotted Deer made frantic efforts to reach the
shore. An arrow hummed threateningly above his head. A moment afterward
he heard another arrow strike the water within bow-length of his canoe.
He glanced uneasily over his shoulder. A grim, black shape swept out of
the night. Then his canoe crashed against the shore. A piercing yell
rang across the water. Seizing his weapons, Spotted Deer jumped from the
canoe, and dashed into the woods.