A NEW DANGER
Deerfoot offered the two boys dried venison and some cakes made of corn
meal. The three fugitives partook heartily of this simple repast and
then prepared to continue their flight. Silently and with extreme
caution they made their way to the place where the canoe lay hidden and
a few moments later all three embarked. The night was dark, but this
fact did not seem to trouble Deerfoot. He wielded the paddle and with
strong, sure strokes propelled the light canoe swiftly over the waters
of the lagoon.
In a short time they were once more among the rushes and through the
narrow waterways Deerfoot paddled the frail craft as confidently as a
man might walk down the street of some familiar town. Joseph and Robert
crouched low in the canoe, made no sound, but constantly marveled at the
skill of their Indian friend, who so easily found his way in the
marshes.
Presently they emerged from the swamp into the main channel of the
river. As close to the shore as possible Deerfoot steered his course and
now did scarcely more than guide the canoe; he allowed the current to
carry them along. Although it was somewhat sluggish here, the Indian
seemed to be content with the speed they were making. So quietly did the
canoe drift down the stream and so dark was the night that an observer
from the shore might easily have mistaken the ghostlike object for a
floating log.
The motion of the canoe was so soothing and all about them everything
seemed so quiet and peaceful that the two brothers almost forgot the
danger they were in, and had nearly fallen asleep again when the grating
of the bow on a sandy beach quickly aroused them.
“Out here,” whispered Deerfoot.
A moment later the canoe had been hauled ashore and hidden, and without
further delay Joseph and Robert followed their Indian guide as he struck
out through the woods.
On the river the night had seemed dark, but in the woods it was pitchy
black. The great overhanging trees shut out whatever feeble light the
stars might give, so that the forest was inky dark. As a consequence
progress was very slow. Deerfoot did not even for a moment relax his
caution; the three fugitives proceeded one behind the other and so close
that they could almost touch one another. Speed was sacrificed to
quietness and as a consequence it required the better part of an hour to
traverse this strip of woods, though it was only a half-mile wide.
At last they emerged from the shelter of the forest onto the prairie.
Far ahead of them it stretched like the waters of a huge lake,
apparently boundless in its extent. Bushes formed the only cover on this
vast expanse of level country and both Joseph and Robert could not help
wondering what they should do if their enemies should discover them
while they were crossing this plain. There was no choice, however, if
they wished to reach Dixon’s Ferry, and the chance must be taken.
Soon their progress was more rapid. Swiftly they walked and as the moon
broke from behind a cloud its rays made the three figures look like
ghosts, as, bending low, they hurried forward on their perilous journey.
Mile after mile they covered and scarcely a word had been spoken since
they left Deerfoot’s hut on the island in the swamp. Finally, however,
the Indian called a halt.
“We rest here,” he exclaimed, pointing to a clump of bushes nearby as he
spoke.
“Good,” said Joseph heartily. “That was a fast pace, Deerfoot.”
“Huh,” grunted the Indian. “Must hurry.”
“Are we going to travel all day, too?” inquired Robert. He had sunk to
the ground as soon as their march had ceased, and now, stripped of his
gun, he lay at full length upon the earth.
“No,” said Deerfoot in response to Robert’s question. “We stay Scott’s
today.”
“Scott’s!” exclaimed Robert. “Where is that?”
“On prairie,” replied Deerfoot. “You know Scott’s.”
“I do,” said Joseph, turning to his brother as he spoke. “Don’t you
remember that family that stopped at our house about five or six years
ago, Bob? They had come from Virginia and we heard later that they had
settled out on the prairie here. You must remember them.”
“I sort of recall something about them,” agreed Robert. “How far from
here is their house, Deerfoot?”
“Six miles.”
“We’ll reach there early in the morning then, won’t we?”
“Daylight,” said Deerfoot. “We stay here half-hour, then go on again.”
“When ought we to reach Dixon’s Ferry?” asked Joseph.
“Tomorrow, mebbe. Mebbe next day,” grunted Deerfoot, and rolling over on
his back the Indian immediately fell asleep.
“Look at that,” exclaimed Joseph. “He is just like a dog and can go to
sleep whenever he feels like it. I wish I could do it.”
“It’s all practice,” said Robert. “Deerfoot has been trained to it all
his life and that’s why he can do it now.”
“Well, you and I had better try to rest, too,” said Joseph, as he
stretched himself on the ground beside Deerfoot.
“Suppose we all go to sleep and no one wakes up in a half an hour?”
“Don’t worry about that. Deerfoot will wake up all right.”
The brothers lapsed into silence but they did not sleep. They had had
more rest than Deerfoot recently and were not in such need of sleep as
was their guide. In addition, the ground was hard and lumpy, and no
matter which way they adjusted themselves it seemed as if some
particularly hard bump was immediately underneath them. The ground was
hard and the grass was dry, for but little rain had fallen recently, and
this fact only served to make their beds more uncomfortable. They
obtained some rest, however, and were ready to start again when Deerfoot
gave the word.
He opened his eyes presently and sat up. A moment later he sprang to his
feet, while the two brothers quickly followed his example.
“Wind blow now,” grunted Deerfoot.
“It is freshening,” agreed Joseph. “It’s right in our faces too.”
It was at least two hours before the dawn when they once more resumed
their march. The wind blowing over the prairie was cool in their faces
and sweet with the odor of grass and the earth. Soon they would come to
the Scott’s home where they were confident that they would be heartily
welcomed and furnished with a sumptuous meal. Perhaps the Scotts would
join them in their flight to Dixon’s Ferry; at any rate they could be
warned of the presence of warlike Indians in the vicinity. These and
similar thoughts occupied the minds of the two brothers as they hurried
on their way.
They had covered perhaps five of the six miles when Deerfoot suddenly
stopped. He bent slightly forward as if he was listening to something,
and imitating him Joseph and Robert both listened intently. No sound
came to them, however, but evidently the case was different with
Deerfoot. For some moments he remained in a listening attitude, and then
turned to his young friends.
“War whoop,” he said quietly.
“What!” exclaimed Joseph and Robert together.
“War whoop,” repeated Deerfoot. “Black Hawk kill Scotts.”
“Are you sure?” demanded Joseph. “Are you sure you hear war whoops?”
“Ugh,” grunted Deerfoot.
“This is terrible!” cried Joseph. “It seems as if we ought to have
warned them. What shall we do?”
“How could we have warned them?” demanded Robert. “We’d have been killed
ourselves if we had tried to get here any sooner.”
“But what shall we do?”
“I don’t know. Ask Deerfoot.”
The first faint streaks of dawn were now lighting up the sky. Little by
little objects began to be distinguishable and as Joseph turned to
Deerfoot for an answer to his question, the Indian pointed to something
he saw in the distance. Both boys instantly gazed in the direction he
indicated.
“What is it?” demanded Joseph in a low voice.
“Smoke.”
“Sure enough,” cried Robert. “I see it. They are burning the Scotts’
house just as they burned ours. They’re probably all dead by now.”
Deerfoot was evidently uneasy. He shifted from one foot to the other and
glanced about him as if he was undecided what to do next. The three
fugitives simply stood and gazed at the distant column of smoke.
“You can smell the smoke now,” exclaimed Robert suddenly.
“Yes,” agreed Joseph. “The wind is coming this way.”
“So fire,” said Deerfoot.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Joseph.
“Fire come this way, too.”
“How will it?”
“Prairie burn,” said Deerfoot quietly.
“Do you think the prairie will catch on fire?” demanded Joseph in alarm.
“Do you think it is dry enough?”
The two young pioneers gazed anxiously across the level plain to the
place where the fire was raging. They knew the horrors of a prairie fire
and they had no desire to be caught in the midst of one.
“Sure prairie dry,” grunted Deerfoot.
“We’d better leave here as fast as we can then, hadn’t we?” exclaimed
Joseph, now fully alarmed. As he spoke they could see the fire suddenly
spring up all about the former home of the Scotts. Fanned by the ever
freshening breeze it made its way swiftly along the ground and gathering
power as it ran, leaped into flame and started on its mad career.
“Come,” said Deerfoot, and he turned about and ran. The smell of smoke
was now strong in their nostrils and this new foe, much more deadly than
the former ones, inspired the fugitives with a fear that seemed almost
to put wings on their feet. A deer suddenly passed them, wide-eyed and
snorting with fright; close behind it sped two gray wolves, the fact
that the deer was their quarry apparently being forgotten in the fear of
a common peril.
To escape by running around the fire was out of the question. It not
only traveled straight ahead, but as it came it continually widened its
scope, the wall of flame and smoke growing broader and broader with
every moment that passed.
The three men ran as they never had run before. Behind them roared the
racing fire, the noise striking terror to the heart of every living
thing within hearing distance. Side by side ran men and animals, their
ancient enmities forgotten, everyone aware of the fact that a foe more
powerful than any of them was at their backs. Water was what they all
sought, and unless they could reach it before the fire did they were
lost.
Neither Joseph nor Robert knew of any water nearer than the stream they
had left the evening before. It was out of the question to think of
gaining that. Perhaps Deerfoot knew of some lake or pond on the prairie.
At any rate he could not stop to say so now, and meanwhile the fire
raged behind them, ever nearer and constantly increasing in fury.