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Footprints in the Forest, a novel by Edward Sylvester Ellis |
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Chapter 22. A Clew At Last |
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_ CHAPTER XXII. A CLEW AT LAST No good reason could be thought of why Jack and the Sauk should remain in the canoe. In fact, they would have shown more prudence had they remained where they were when the Pawnees disembarked and walked out of sight in the woods; or, if they felt the need of changing their quarters, they ought to have gone as far as they could from their foes, instead of following them and inviting more peril. The training of the American Indian makes him treacherous, subtle and full of resources. The desire to "get ahead" of, or to outwit a rival is natural to us all, and is one of the most characteristic traits of the red men. It was that prompting, more than any thing else, which led Hay-uta to leave the youth behind, while he trailed the Pawnees into the forest. But the death-shriek of Red Wolf was sure to bring his comrades to the spot within the space of one or two minutes; they would quickly read the particulars of the story, and the footprints of the Sauk would be traced to the river's edge, where their arrival was inevitable within an almost equally brief space of time. Should Hay-uta head for the opposite bank, and whirl the paddle with might and main, he and his companion would be riddled with bullets before they could pass beyond range of the Indians on shore. There really was but one thing to do, and that was done off-hand and without hesitation. The canoe, under the silent but powerful strokes of the Sauk, and with its light load, skimmed over the surface like a swallow. Hay-uta ran as close in as he could, without allowing the overhanging limbs to obstruct his speed. Twenty rods were passed in this manner, when he turned the head of the boat toward shore, refraining, however, from letting it run against it. One bound carried him out, and Jack was at his heels. Then a gentle shove sent it beyond the dripping branches, where it was under full control of the current, and it resumed its downward flight, though in the bewildered fashion which showed it was under the control of no one. It was fortunate for our friends that the margin of the stream was fringed with so much vegetation, as it afforded the best kind of a hiding place. Without entering the water, they crouched into the smallest possible space, Jack wondering whether their good fortune would still bear them company. A wailing cry sounded a brief distance above, and the lad needed not the grimace and gesture of the Sauk to know that the Pawnees had discovered the body of Red Wolf and the theft of the boat. Within the following minute the tread of hurrying moccasins was heard, and they passed within a few feet of where the two lay, not daring even to look up. That was all well enough, but when another cry made known they had found the craft, the real peril of the two may be said to have begun. Jack Carleton knew as well as if it had taken place under his own eyes, that one of the Pawnees was making his way through the water to the boat, whose gunwale was grasped, and by which it was drawn back to land. This took place about as far below our friends as the point from which they started the canoe was above them. If the Pawnees should retrace the ground, carefully beating the bushes for "game", they would be sure to drive it out. Jack found the care of the bow of Deerfoot quite a burden. It was continually in his way, and was of no help at all. Seeing his embarrassment, the Sauk took it in charge, while the youth suspended the quiver over his shoulder. The Pawnees did not make the search that was dreaded, and it is not difficult to guess the reason. They had just lost one of their number, and, though there seemed to be only two foes near them, yet they must have suspected there were more. These strangers could do terrific fighting, as they had proven, and the five Pawnees preferred to await the arrival of re-enforcements, which would soon come from the other side. In truth, a study of the events which followed, as well of those which preceded, shows good reason to believe the curious coincidence that the Pawnees were as ignorant of the reappearance of the Shawanoe on the other bank, as he was of the passage of the river by the half dozen hostiles in their canoe. But the report of the rifle, the death-shriek, and the shouts of the Pawnees, had given Deerfoot an inkling of the truth, before he was able to learn all by investigation on his own part. Still it was a most annoying interference with a daring scheme he had set on foot, and which was in danger of being overthrown altogether. The brow of the youth wrinkled with impatience, for he knew that all this skirmishing could have been saved to his friends, had they used care; but at the moment he was most discouraged, events took an unexpected turn in his favor. Meanwhile Jack Carleton and Hay-uta did not stir for several minutes, but, as they listened, it seemed to the youth that their enemies required not to come very nigh, in order to locate them by the tumultuous throbbing of his heart. He was sure the brief silence which followed was occupied by the Pawnees in looking for them, but, as I have shown in another place, he erred. The rippling of water caused both to turn their heads, and, through the interlacing vegetation behind, they caught a glimpse of the canoe and its five occupants, heading toward the other side. The Sauk softly insinuated his hand between the leaves, so as to give a better view (though he ran much risk), and Jack ventured to peep forth. The Pawnees, as our friends believed, had gone back for re-enforcements. Possibly a score, more or less, of warriors would be transferred to the shore they had left, and then the campaign would open in earnest. Hay-uta could not close his ear to the whispering of prudence; clearly their duty was to leave the spot before their enemies could come back. Bravery, skill, and cunning, when allied to common sense, would permit no other course. Throwing off, therefore, the extreme caution they had exercised, they rose to their feet, and the Sauk led the way to the river bank. They did not forget the care which a frontiersman always shows when treading the wilderness, but the tension of their nerves was relaxed, and Jack felt some of the jauntiness that was his during the first day he spent with Deerfoot in the hunt for Otto Relstaub. It did not seem necessary to go far, and scarcely a furlong was passed when the Sauk selected a spot from which they could watch the river without exposing themselves to detection by any one on the further shore. If the Pawnees should return, as our friends were confident they would do, it was not likely they would delay long. It was an easy matter to summon all their warriors, and such as could not be accommodated in the canoe, could swim beside it. At the moment that the Sauk secured a safe point from which to look out, Jack Carleton made the most important discovery that had come to the knowledge of any one of the three since starting on their journey. Something on the ground just ahead and a little to one side of Hay-uta, caught his eye. The Sauk did not see it, and the boy did not suspect it was of any account. It was in obedience rather to a whim than to any reasoning impulse that he stepped aside and picked up the object. "Great Caesar!" he exclaimed. "It's Otto's cap!" For a moment Jack stood transfixed, with the article held at arm's length, while the Sauk stared in turn, as if he thought the youth was beside himself. But the lad was too familiar with that headgear to be mistaken. He turned it over and over, held it close to his face and scrutinized every particle of it; it was the same peaked hat which poor Otto had worn so long, and it was on his head when he and Jack--both captives--parted company weeks before. How long the hat had lain where it was picked up, could not be told. Its make was such that, while the owner had worn it several years, it was still good for an indefinite time longer. A day or a month of exposure would make little difference in its appearance. When Jack had recovered from his amazement, he and Hay-uta examined the immediate vicinity. The action of the youth, and the emotion he displayed, told the story to the Sauk, who did not fail also to see the value of the clew that had fallen into their hands. Ten feet from where the cap was found lay a small decayed tree. It had probably been blown down during some gale. The suggestion presented itself that Otto Relstaub was sitting on this support, when he either flung the hat from him, or some one else did so. That which the friends wished to find now was the footprints left by the lad when he went away: _they_ would tell the story as nothing else could. If the missing boy had gone within the preceding two or three days, the keen vision of the Sauk could see and follow the trail. Recognizing his immeasurably superior skill, Jack remained seated on the tree and nodded to Hay-uta to push his search. The warrior did every thing he could, stepping as lightly as a fawn, his shoulders bending low, while he scrutinized the leaves with a minuteness which would have detected a pin lying on top of them. A faint trail leading through the wilderness is sometimes plainer a few steps distant than it is beneath one's own feet. The disturbance of the vegetation, the rumpling of the leaves resulting in the turning of the under side toward the sun, and those trifling disarrangements which you or I would never notice, can be identified by what may be called an off-hand scrutiny, possibly on the same principle that a careless glance at Pleiades will reveal each of the seven stars, when if the gaze is fixed on the matchless group, one of them modestly shrinks from view. There was no artifice known to the aboriginal brain which was not called into use by the Sauk warrior. He stepped with the utmost care, so as to disturb the leaves as little as possible. First of all, he gave his attention to the space between the log and the river. That was short, and its examination required but a brief time. Hay-uta seemed to suspect that the trail would be found to lead toward the stream, but he was disappointed, as not the slightest trace was discovered. I may as well say that though the scrutiny was continued for half an hour, and embraced a complete circle around the spot where the hat was found, it resulted in no success at all. The conclusion was inevitable--so long a time had passed since it was thrown to the ground, that every vestige of the footprints had been obliterated. Finally Hay-uta straightened up, and, looking in the expectant face of Jack, shook his head. "I was afraid of it," said the boy, "so many days have passed since he lost it, that nothing is left but to guess how it all came about--and though I've done all the thinking I know how, I am done." Such was the fact. How it was that Otto Relstaub had come to leave his hat lying there on the leaves was beyond the power of Jack Carleton to tell. It could hardly be that he had done so voluntarily, for it was impossible to conceive of a reason for it, and the probability that some one else was the cause, only intensified those misgivings which, in a greater or less degree, had tormented the young Kentuckian from the hour he started to hunt for his missing friend. _ |
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