Home > Authors Index > Edward Sylvester Ellis > Hunters of the Ozark > This page
The Hunters of the Ozark, a novel by Edward Sylvester Ellis |
||
Chapter 21. The Camp Of The Winnebagos |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XXI. 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!" _ |
||