Within an hour the two men had become firm friends. They were alike
only in the saving grace of humour, for Audubon had been trained in a
gentler school than Norton. The latter was amazed to find that his
new comrade, as Rosier had said, left his family and business at
Louisville, in order to spend weeks in the woods; yet when Norton saw
the drawings and sketches of birds which Audubon proudly displayed,
he was forced to confess that the long weeks had borne fruit.
"I can't see what use they are, except to science," he said ruefully,
"but I presume you get out of them the same keen satisfaction that I
get out of a trail well blazed or a hunt well finished."
"Exactly," laughed the other. "But enough of this. Tell me about
Blacknose."
Norton did so, relating all that had happened to him since his
eventful arrival at the Taylor farm. Audubon listened in keen
interest, stroking his long powerful chin but saying nothing. When
Norton had made an end, the naturalist--for this, and not
shopkeeping, was his real profession--quietly bundled up his drawings
in a portfolio. He arranged them neatly and in precision, and not
until he had buckled the last buckle did he break the silence which
had fallen. Then his eyes clenched on the keen sword-gaze of Norton,
and he smiled.
"I will go with you. My wife is with General Clark, and need fear
nothing; I myself am accounted as a little crazed, so no man would
hurt me. But let them wait! The day is coming when this country of
ours shall take her rightful place among the nations who sit at the
feet of science! Look at our bison and elk, our countless new
species of every bird and animal----"
He broke off suddenly, laughed at his own hot enthusiasm, and
continued.
"But, sir, your pardon. You are a soldier, and I am not--but in
truth I have served in the navy of France, so let us demolish these
river pirates together. Poor Rosier would scarce credit me joining
you, I fear!"
Norton smiled. He liked this animated, vivacious, strong young
fellow immensely, and was far too well educated to share in the
prejudices of the Kentuckians against him. Audubon had been in
Louisville only a few months, his life having alternated between
France and America, but his business venture with Rosier had been
sadly crippled by the activity of the river pirates, and also by his
own indifference. He did not lack energy for any pursuit which
attracted him, however, and flung himself into Norton's problem with
a whole-hearted enthusiasm which delighted the Louisianian.
The latter went over each point, from the description of the would-be
assassin to his last meeting with Duval and Grigg. On this last,
Audubon managed to throw some faint light.
"Grigg was accused of horse-theft this spring," he said thoughtfully.
"He was even had up in court, but Duval defended him most ably, and
had him acquitted. I have often seen them together, too. This
fellow Duval is a most able lawyer, Norton; he is said to be a second
Hercules in strength, and seems to have plenty of money. So you met
the famous Colonel Boone, eh? I hope for that pleasure some day; he
is a famous man, a famous man!"
Norton tried to elicit some information about the two mysterious
Indians whom he had met, but Audubon merely shook his head, knowing
nothing of the redskins and caring less.
"As to this river piracy, one of our merchants, a Mr. Tarascon, last
year tried to capture the men. His hogsheads of tobacco were
privately marked in a certain place, and after losing two cargoes he
had all the river captains watching for them. One Captain
Brookfield, who runs a horse-power barque of forty tons, stated later
that he had received a number of hogsheads from a settler at Blue
River. He believed them to be the ones in question, but the private
mark had been branded over very cleverly. So that plan came to
nothing."
"At least," exclaimed Norton eagerly, "it would go to show that the
Tarascon boats were looted between Louisville and Blue River, eh? Of
course, others have vanished at different points; a band of pirates
with confederates on the boats would not be so foolish as to commit
all their piracies at one spot, especially after what happened to the
Mason and Harpe gang through just such work. Well, I believe we can
do no better than to seek this man, Red Hugh--if indeed you are
willing to incur the risk of helping me."
"Do you wish me?" Audubon looked at him calmly. "I do not want to
intrude----"
"Why man," and Norton laughed in sheer happiness until his brown face
lost all its cold grimness and expressed only eager delight--"when I
left Louisville I wished that one of two men were with me--one of
them Daniel Boone, the other a younger frontiersman named Crockett,
whom I know well. Now I extend that to a third, and the third is
named Audubon; I think, perhaps, that I would sooner have this same
Mr. Audubon than either of the other two! You are a man, sir."
Audubon put out his hand, and Norton gripped it, eye to eye.
"And you," returned the other slowly, "are--well, that compliment
gains its whole value, sir, in coming from you. I can say no more."
It was enough, and with a song in his heart Norton returned to get
his horse, while Audubon gathered his scattered belongings and made
ready to depart. The bird-lover had a small double-barrelled rifle
which he had bought in Philadelphia some years before, and when he
had replenished his stock of ammunition from Norton's store, the two
set forth.
They were a strange pair--Audubon in his black satin and French
shirt, Norton in his buckskin and magnificent moccasins. Both were
well versed in threading wilderness pathways, however, and it was no
great task to find the Ohio. Late that afternoon they pushed their
horses to the brow of a small hill, and saw the great river lying
before them. The hills, which drew close to the Ohio at Blue River,
were some distance back from the banks at this point, dense patches
of canebrake appearing along the lower ground. The summer heat had
thoroughly dried out the canes, and at sight of the yellow-brown
patches Norton nodded.
"I rode along the Indiana shore from Fort Massac to Louisville," he
said, "and remember seeing these canebrakes from across the river.
We're almost opposite a little settlement called Doe Run----"
"Yes," added the other quickly, "and we are some eight miles from the
spot indicated to you by Boone. I went down-river to Henderson last
month and remember seeing that rocky cliff on the Indiana shore.
What think you--shall we press on and find your Red Hugh to-night, or
wait till morning?"
Norton decided to camp where they were. The afternoon was far gone;
there were no settlements on the Kentucky shore, and they would stand
little chance of finding Red Hugh's cabin at night. So he went on
with the horses, while Audubon went after meat; by the time Norton
had made camp on a small hillock of dry ground among the canebrakes,
his companion came in with a wild turkey and news that a storm seemed
coming up from the south.
When darkness came down and their bird was cooking, Audubon's
prediction was justified by a shrill whispering of the canes as the
wind stirred them. A brush shelter was soon thrown up, however, and
the two men settled down in comfort, regardless of the weather.
Norton found that his companion agreed with him on the course to be
pursued. Leaving Ayres out of the case, they could do nothing but
scout along the river shores, and with the help of Red Hugh might
hope to accomplish something. This settled, the horses were picketed
and Norton fell asleep to the rustling of the canes and the soughing
of the wind in the cot ton woods.
He wakened once, to find the fire burned out, the sky overcast, and a
stiff gale sweeping over the valley. No rain had fallen, however,
and despite the uneasy feeling that should have warned him, Norton
slept once more.
When he was roused again, it was by a shrill scream from a horse,
followed almost instantly by a rush of feet and a volley of shots.
Norton was on his feet at once, with a shout to his companion;
Audubon was already up, however, as his voice testified.
"The cane's afire, Norton! A spark must have caught it----"
"Sparks don't fly against the wind," grunted Norton.
They stood silent, dismayed by the spectacle around them and by the
truth of Norton's remark. Dawn had come up; the high wind from the
south was still blowing, and the canebrake was afire along the edge
of the higher ground behind them. The two horses had disappeared,
frightened by the veil of smoke drifting over the camp.
"Had the canes been afire along the river below," went on Norton
grimly, "we could lay it to our own fire. But this seems to me the
work of other hands, Audubon. The canes have been fired at a dozen
places----"
"Then we had best lose no time getting out of here," cried the other.
"Hello! Where's my rifle?"
"Gone, with mine," Norton grunted angrily as he realized what had
occurred. "The enemy has trapped us and----"
"What? You mean----"
"Blacknose," nodded Norton, pale to the lips. "No use trying to
break through that line of fire, because we're hemmed in all round."
Audubon stared blankly at him, cursed, then turned his eyes to the
fire-sweep. Both men were quite well aware of their position. An
enemy had removed their rifles and freed their horses, and the fire
would do the rest.
The thirty-foot canes were blazing fiercely, the drifted smoke and
flames completely cutting off all egress by the neck of higher ground
through which the two had entered toward the shore. As the fire took
hold, the explosions of water in the cane-joints became continuous;
so loud were they that Norton could not but imagine himself in the
midst of a battle. Audubon stared at the spectacle, awe-struck, for
the flames and smoke were rising high; he already held his precious
portfolio, seeming to care for nothing else.
The two men were soon aroused to their danger, however. Across the
little opening on which they stood slipped an immense rattlesnake,
followed quickly by a rush of rabbits; from one side came a
tremendous crashing amid the canes, and by the lurid glare which
paled the growing daylight, Norton made out the form of a bear
crushing his way in panic toward the river.
"Come on," he cried hastily, turning. "Our only hope is the river,
Audubon! If we can splash through the shallows beyond the edge of
the fire, we'll be safe."
"Lead the way, then," returned the other calmly. "Good God, what a
sight!"
His leathern shirt already hot against his skin, Norton turned and
plunged to where the bear was still crashing through the canes. The
river was a hundred yards away, and so thick were the high canes that
to force a passage was impossible; their only hope lay in following
the course of the frightened bear. With hot anger raging in him
against the fiends who had laid this trap, and with quick realization
that Audubon's shot at the turkey the previous evening must have
drawn their foes upon them, Norton dashed forward into the muck.
It was high time, for the nearer canes were already being fired by
sparks. On every side the explosions were crashing out while small
animals scurried past in blind panic. A moment later the two friends
gained the shore, however, and as they did so a canoe appeared a
dozen feet away, paddled by a single man.
"Help!" cried Norton eagerly. "Come in here and get us off, friend!"
The canoe was drifting slowly, and even as the two plunged out into
the shallow water, they were halted abruptly. The high brake around
them shut out the glare from behind, and by the rapidly increasingly
daylight they saw that the single occupant of the canoe was covering
them with a rifle.
"Hold on, thar!" he cried hoarsely. "This gun's primed!"
And Norton recognized Audubon's double-barrelled rifle. There was
now no doubt as to the identity of the canoeist--it was he who had
thieved their rifles and set the cane-brake afire.
"You'll pay for this work," exclaimed Norton, trying to repress his
rage. His hand went to his belt. Audubon, also realizing at once
who the man was, took a forward step.
"Come on, Norton--wade around the brake----"
"Stop!" The man in the canoe levelled the rifle full at them; he was
barely three yards away, and an eddy of the stream floated the canoe
around. "You-all ain't in no danger. This here's a warnin' to git.
They's a flatboat comin' around the bend--swim out an' git took off;
stay on her clar to Saint Looey, an' keep out o' this country,
you"--and Norton perceived that the remarks were addressed to him.
He also perceived something else. The man was holding the rifle at
his left shoulder; he was bearded, wore a buckskin coat and a cap of
fox, with the brush hanging over his back. Norton started suddenly.
He had no need to see powder-horn or moccasins.
"So you're completing your work, eh?" he cried savagely. "You're the
man who shot at me on the Beargrass Creek road the other day, eh?"
The villainous face of the man contracted.
"Ain't no 'lasses sticking to your feet, is they?" he jeered. "Right
ye are, pardner. Now, you-all git aboard that flatboat an' stay
thar, see?"
Norton thought swiftly, his hand closing on the hatchet in his belt.
This was one of the Blacknose gang, beyond a doubt, and was the man
whom Ayres had seen talking with Duval. Was it possible that----
"Who hired you for this dirty work?" he demanded swiftly. "Tell me
who Blacknose is, and I'll give you five hundred dollars--"
"Git out an' swim, ye cussed spy," snarled the man evilly. "I ain't
goin' to miss ye next time----"
Norton, who had drawn his hand behind him, flicked forward his wrist
in an underhand throw, having no chance to raise the tomahawk. Even
as the steel flamed out, the man caught the motion and fired; Norton
flung himself forward, felt a hot sear of pain across his head, and
plunged bodily on the canoe.
It was a desperate expedient, but Norton was too hot with anger to
care for possibilities. Before the man could fire his second barrel,
Norton's weight sent the canoe over backward; he went with it, felt
himself grappled, and had a brief glimpse of Audubon leaping at the
canoe as he went under.
The water was little more than knee-deep, but Norton felt something
sting at his shoulder and knew his opponent had a knife out.
Smashing down with his fist through the smother, he tried to free
himself of the hand at his throat, but vainly. Already wounded, he
felt a terrible weakness stealing over him, and the water choked his
lungs. His fingers closed on a wrist, and he gripped it desperately
as he struggled up to get his head above the water.
In this he succeeded, pulling his opponent with him, and for a moment
the two men stood breast to breast. The riverman fought with an
appalling savagery, snarling like a beast, and Norton knew his case
was desperate. Blood blinded him: the hand about his throat drew
tighter; and with only his right hand holding off the menacing knife,
he put down his left hand to his belt in a last desperate effort.
The other saw his object, but could not prevent it without loosing
his hold on Norton's throat. Snarling again, he threw himself
forward; Norton was not braced against the move, and went over
backward into the water. It was life or death now, and the
Louisianian knew it. Jerking his own knife free, he lashed out
frantically. The blade drove home, but he pulled it free and struck,
again and again.
Wounded, throttled, choked with mud and water, Norton felt himself
loosed from that terrible death-grapple. He tried weakly to lift
himself erect, but could only raise his head from the water, sobbing
in the smoke-laden air, while burning cane-flakes fell all around.
He could see nothing, but felt hands lifting him and heard the voice
of Audubon in his ear. The words sounded faint and very far away.
Norton was by no means unconscious, but he was weak and nauseated and
half-drowned. He was well assured that never again would he have to
seek a left-handed man with red-streaked powder-horn. He needed no
glimpse of the horror-struck visage of Audubon to tell him that their
enemy would fire no more canebrakes.
He felt Audubon bundle him over the side of the canoe, with much
difficulty, but was too weak to offer any assistance. Then Audubon
himself climbed aboard and began to paddle the craft out into the
river. Norton lay in the grip of a deadly coma until a burning flake
settled on his back and aroused him as it ate through his leather
shirt. He rolled over, quenched the burning in the water that
half-filled the canoe, and sat up.
Clutching at the gunnels, he stared about. Behind was the roaring
mass of flame which had so nearly swallowed them, and they were
already in the swift current of the stream. The river made a sharp
bend just above them, toward which the smoke was drifting; they had
already swept out of the murk, and Norton saw a flatboat floating
down-river, half a mile away.
Setting his teeth against the giddiness swirling over him, he reached
down and grasped a paddle. At his feet were the rifles; Audubon must
have recovered them, then. As he got his paddle over the side,
Audubon looked around with a ghastly smile.
"All right, Norton?"
"Right enough. Keep her going."
Little by little he conquered himself. He was very weak, but as they
neared the flatboat he managed to wave his paddle. The crew of the
boat were lined up with rifles, but as Audubon stood up, at some risk
to the canoe, they recognized his figure and got out their sweeps.
Five minutes later they were alongside, and Norton fainted.