THE CAMP OF THE WINNEBAGOS.
Now that the little party had started once more toward the camp in the
Ozark Mountains, they moved at a brisk pace. It took them but a short
time to reach the main trail, where there was a short pause while
Deerfoot made what may be called a microscopic scrutiny of the ground.
The result did not please him, for he saw the proof that the Wolf had
turned to the right, and had preceded them over the route which they
were to follow. He would have been better satisfied had he crossed the
trail or turned the other way. The fact that he had gone southward meant
that the main party which he was seeking to join were in that direction,
though the keen eyes of the Shawanoe could detect no signs that they had
trodden the same ground. That signified nothing, however, as they might
have pursued a slightly different route, falling back upon the main path
further on.
Deerfoot, in telling his young friends what he had learned, added that
he had no doubt that they would hear from the Winnebagos again, and
possibly at an hour when least expected. Fred Linden was disturbed more
by the knowledge that the party were approaching the camp where his
father and his companions were unsuspicious of the danger. They could
easily steal close enough to the cabin to shoot down all three without
warning.
When he mentioned his fear to Deerfoot, that sagacious young warrior
told him that he saw no cause for anxiety, though he could not deny that
something of the kind might take place. His theory was that the
Winnebagos were not disposed to attack any party of whites in mere
wantonness, the act of the Wolf being the whim of a single
gnarly-brained warrior.
Be that as it may, our young friends were anxious to make the best
progress they could, and, for fully a dozen miles, they kept up their
brisk gait. At the end of that time, the sun was overhead, and they
were obliged to stop on the bank of a broad, swiftly-flowing stream. The
prints made by the hoofs of the horses that had passed that way some
days before were plainly seen, though there had been a fall of rain
since. A glance at the water showed that it was so deep that the hunters
must have swam their animals across.
It would have been an easy matter for the boys to swim also, but they
preferred to use a raft. Accordingly, they set to work, and it did not
take them long to gather enough logs and driftwood to float all three.
These were deftly fastened together by Deerfoot, who used hickory withes
for that purpose, and, then, with a long pole which he cut and trimmed
with his tomahawk, he pushed from shore.
The propelling pole was fully fifteen feet long, and in the middle of
the stream, the boys were surprised to see that when one end was pressed
against the bottom, no more than two feet were above the surface: the
depth was much greater than they had suspected.
It was hard work to keep the clumsy raft moving at such disadvantage,
but Deerfoot would not yield the pole to either of his companions, and,
after awhile, he drove it against the shore, and all stepped upon dry
land, without so much as their feet having become moistened.
They had been carried some distance below the trail by the current, but
they quickly regained it, and pushed on. Having eaten nothing since
morning, all three were ahungered, but Fred and Terry grimly determined
to wait for Deerfoot to suggest a stop before they asked for it. Had
they but known that many a time, when on the tramp, he had gone two days
and nights without taking a mouthful, they would not have been so
willing to await his pleasure.
But though he would not have thought of stopping before nightfall had he
been alone, he was too considerate to subject them to discomfort; but it
was useless to stop, since as yet they had seen nothing in the way of
game to shoot.
Terry and Fred were beginning to feel impatient with each other because
of their mutual stubbornness when the Shawanoe, who had been walking
quite fast, slackened his pace and turning his head, said:
"My brothers are hungry, and they shall have to eat."
"Ye couldn't tell us better news," replied the grateful Terry, "though I
would be obliged to ye if ye would impart the information where there is
any chance of our gettin' any such thing, as the people used to say whin
me uncle on me mother's side offered to bet a sixpence on anythin'."
Deerfoot made no answer, but walking still more slowly, he was seen to
raise his hand to his mouth. Then followed the peculiar cry that a wild
turkey makes when it is lost from its companions. The Shawanoe knew that
the birds were in the surrounding woods, though none had shown itself.
By and by there was an answer to the call from a point ahead. Asking the
boys to wait where they were, he trotted lightly forward, and was not
absent ten minutes when he came back with a plump turkey, whose neck he
had wrung.
Since the lads had heard no report of a gun, they wanted to know by what
means he had secured it. He replied that he had stood behind a tree and
repeated the call until a group of the birds approached within a few
rods, when he made a dash among them, and seized his prize before she
could spread her wings and fly--all of which told of a dexterity that
few others possessed.
In a brief while, a good dinner was boiled over the coals, a short rest
taken, and the three were on the road again, it being their wish to
travel further than on the day before. Had Deerfoot been alone he would
have broken into a trot that would have doubled the distance before the
set of sun.
But the trail over which they were walking grew rougher. It was so rocky
in some places that it must have tried the endurance of the horses
ridden by the hunters. Instead of being direct, it grew very sinuous,
made so by the efforts to avoid many formidable obstacles that rose in
front. All this was of little account to the dusky leader, though of
necessity it prolonged the journey, and he was obliged to slacken his
pace to suit those who were less accustomed to such work.
It was about the middle of the afternoon, when they were checked again
by coming abreast of a stream that was too broad and deep to be forded.
The trail, however, instead of entering the water, turned up the bank,
and the three, under the leadership of Deerfoot, did the same.
This diversion continued for fully two hundred yards, when the path
struck the water, the point on the other side where the horsemen had
emerged being in plain sight. The former method was resorted to, and in
less than an hour after reaching the creek the three had safely ferried
themselves across. It was neither so broad nor so deep as the other, but
it delayed them fully as much.
Within a half mile from the stream last crossed they came upon the trail
of the whole Winnebago party. Just as Deerfoot suspected, they had taken
another route, and had come back to the main path a good many miles away
from where the Wolf left it the night before.
His experienced eye told him that they were close upon the company, who
numbered precisely twelve--several more than he supposed. Whether the
Wolf was with them could not of course be learned until a glimpse of the
party themselves was obtained.
Matters had now taken such a shape that the Shawanoe told his companions
that the utmost care must be used, since they were liable to stumble on
the very ones whom they were anxious to avoid. He instructed them to
allow him to keep fully a hundred feet in advance, and never to diminish
the distance without orders from him.
This was a prudent step, and Fred and Terry did their best to carry out
the wishes of their guide, who walked on at a moderate pace, without
once glancing back at his friends, who he knew would respect what he had
said to them.
Bear in mind that this arrangement was made toward the close of the
afternoon of an autumn day. The three had not traveled more than two
miles, with the leader so far in advance, when the gathering gloom
became such that he would not have been visible to his followers had he
not fallen back so as to keep in sight.
Finally, when less than a dozen yards separated them, and the graceful
figure of the young Shawanoe looked like a shadow gliding in advance, he
suddenly halted. The eyes of the boys were upon him, and they saw him
raise his hand as a signal to stop; they obeyed without so much as a
whisper.
He stood like a statue for two or three minutes, and then, turning his
head without moving his body, beckoned them to approach. They could
barely see the motion of his arm, as they stepped softly to his side;
but before reaching him, they caught the glimmer of a light among the
trees, somewhat in front and to the right. When they stood near him,
they saw it more distinctly.
In a partly open space, near the invariable stream of water, were a
group of Indians, some stretched lazily on the ground, some squatted
like tailors, two busy cooking something over the fire, and nearly every
one smoking long-stemmed, stone pipes. They were a sturdy set of
warriors, who were likely to give a good account of themselves in a
hunt or fight, and both Fred and Terry knew who they were before
Deerfoot, with his arm extended and his finger pointing toward them,
said:
"It is the camp of the Winnebagos!"