CHAPTER IV.
A PARTY OF THE THIRD PART.
The Indian warrior whom Terry Clark saw advancing stealthily through theundergrowth, cow-bell in hand, was a frightful object. His head andshoulders were bent forward, and he was stepping slowly and silently,while he glanced from right to left, as if searching for some object, orawaiting the occurrence of an expected event. His face was daubed withblack and red paint, his long hair, as coarse as that of a horse's tail,dangled about his shoulders and alongside his neck, so that his eyes,when staring through it, seemed to be blazing among so much tangledbrush. The ordinary hunting shirt, fringed in front, inclosed his chest,and was gathered at the waist by a sash or belt into which were thrusthis hunting knife and tomahawk. The usual breechcloth, leggins andmoccasins completed his dress.
He carried a fine rifle in his left hand, in a trailing position, whilea powder horn and bullet pouch were supported by a string passing overhis shoulder. He was what may be called a thoroughly equipped warrior,without taking into account the cow-bell, which was suspended by thethumb and fingers of the right hand. It was thus he must have graspedthe implement when he caused it to give out the sound that caught theear of Fred Linden and Terry Clark. But at the moment the Irish lad sawhim, and for some minutes after, he held the bell in such careful poisethat it gave no sound at all.
The Indian probably suspected his imitation of the action of the animalwas so poor that it was likely to cause distrust, and therefore he wassparing in resorting to the stratagem.
Now, nothing can be clearer than that if the warrior was in such a plainview of Terry Clark, the latter was equally exposed to his eye. TheIndian was moving in his guarded fashion over a course at right anglesto that followed by the lad, who was quick to realize his peril. He knewthat every second he remained thus exposed he was likely to be seen. Hehad hardly taken a glance of his enemy, when he stooped so that hisknees almost touched the ground, and moved as noiselessly and quickly ashe could to the nearest tree, behind which he took shelter.
This tree was an oak, large enough to hide two such boys, standing sideby side, so that the youth felt secure for the time.
"Ah, if I only had me gun," was the regret that naturally came to him;"I would quickly settle with the spalpeen that stole old Brindle, andnow wants to run away wid me."
It will be admitted that the situation of Terry was peculiar, for he wasquite close to the warrior, who, there was every reason to believe, washunting for him, and who was so nigh that there was imminent danger ofdiscovery. It might be asked why the redskin should have taken thiscourse, for in some respects it had more than one absurd feature. If hewanted to kill a white person, all this maneuvering with a cow-bell wasridiculous, while his conduct from first to last was in some respectsunreasonable. The best explanation was that which was made sometimeafterward by a person, who as yet has not been introduced to the reader,but who, when he does appear, will be admitted to be the best judge. Iallude to Deerfoot the Shawanoe.
The Indian with the cow-bell was a Winnebago warrior, whose home was along ways to the northward, but who had gone thither in company withseveral others on what may be called a tour of investigation. Thedriving off of the cow was probably an inspiration of the moment. TheIndians kept her until they had got all the milk they wanted, firstremoving the bell so that her friends could not recover her until theywere through. The stratagem which I have been describing was anafterthought. None of the Winnebagos except the one who tried the planwould have any thing to do with it, though they were willing enough thatevery white person in the settlement of Greville should perish, if thesame could be brought about without risk to them.
Left to himself, the Winnebago decided to make a prisoner of whomsoevershould be sent to find the cow. He had reason to believe that thisperson would be a youth, and since every thing was so quiet in thatsection, he was not likely to be armed. Hence, it would be an easymatter to decoy him a goodly distance from the settlement, when thewarrior could pounce upon, make him a prisoner and compel him to go withhim. After the couple were far enough from the settlement the lad couldbe put to death, if his captor or the party to which the captorbelonged, should so elect.
Terry Clark had stood behind the sheltering tree for perhaps fiveminutes, when he became aware of an alarming fact: the warrior with thebell was slowly approaching him. The faint tinkle that it gave out onceor twice told this, and when finally the lad ventured to peep around theside of the tree, the sight was a startling one. The Indian had risenalmost to the upright posture, and holding the gun and bell asdescribed, was moving directly toward the oak behind which the boystood. Moreover at the moment the latter took the cautious look, thevisage of the Indian showed that he was looking straight at the tree.
"By the powers!" gasped Terry, "but the spalpeen observed me, and I'mthinkin' that he saw me before I did him."
It was not at all unlikely that such was the case. The Indian may havefelt sure of his victim, and so he indulged in a little by-play, as acat often does with a mouse. Such a cruel proceeding was characteristicof his race.
The belief that this was the case placed Terry Clark in a most tryingposition. He was without the means with which to defend himself, and infact was hopeless. It was useless to try to run away, for if the warriorcould not overtake him at once, he could bring him down with his rifle.
You know how rare a thing it is for an Irishman to submit meekly, evenwhen there is no hope in resistance. Terry muttered:
"If he lays hands on me, there's going to be a fight; I wish Fred wasnear, that he could see that I git fair play."
No person could have been more in earnest than was the Irish lad.
"I'll wait till his head comes round the corner of that tree and thenI'll give him a whack that'll tumble him over on his back, afore heknows what's the matter wid him; then I'll amuse myself wid hammerin'him after he is down till I git tired and then I'll take his gun andknife and tomahawk and the bell and make him walk before me to thesittlement."
The lad had just gone over in his mind this roseate programme, when asoft tinkle told him that the Winnebago was within a few steps of thetree; and at the same moment that the youth made this interestingdiscovery, another still more astonishing one broke upon him.
Just fifty feet away and behind a trunk very similar to the one thatsheltered the lad, stood a second Indian warrior. His position was suchthat he was in plain view of Terry, though the Winnebago could not seehim except when the latter should approach quite close to the shelter ofthe boy. The strange Indian was closely watching the hostile one, and,with that remarkable intuition that sometimes comes to a person in gravecrises, Terry was convinced that he was an enemy of the Winnebago,though whether a friend of the youth was not so certain.
In his amazement, the lad for the moment forgot his own danger and gavehis attention to the stranger, who was the most striking looking warriorhe had ever seen. He seemed to be about eighteen or twenty years of age,and was the picture of manly grace and beauty.
He had long, luxuriant black hair which hung about his shoulders, beinggathered by a loose band at the neck, so as to keep it from getting infront of his eyes. In the crown of this natural covering were thrustthree stained eagle feathers, while there were two rows of colored beadsaround the neck. The fringed hunting shirt which reached almost to hisknees was of a dull, yellow color and the sash or belt around the waistwas of a dark red. A small but handsome bracelet encircled his leftwrist, and the fringes of his leggins were of varied and brilliant hues,as were the beaded moccasins that incased his shapely feet. A tomahawkand knife were in his girdle, while he held a finely ornamented rifle inhis right hand, the manner in which he manipulated the weapon showingthat he was left-handed.
The face was strikingly fine, the nose being slightly aquiline, thecheek bones less prominent, and the whole contour more symmetrical thanis generally the case with his race. There was something in thesituation that evidently amused him, for Terry saw him smile sounmistakably that he noticed his
small and regular white teeth.
It was plain that he was watching the movements of the Winnebago, thoughhe said nothing, and made no gesture to the lad, whose wondering look hemust have understood. Be that as it may, the sight of the strangeIndian, and the belief that he was an enemy of the other with thecow-bell, inspired the Irish lad with a courage that he would not haveknown had the other warrior been absent.
"He's waiting to see how I condooct mesilf when the spalpeen lays handson me," thought Terence; "he won't have to wait long."
The youth was right. The crouching Winnebago, doubtless feeling that hehad no immediate use for the bell that had served him so well, droppedit to the ground beside him, and holding only his rifle in hand, steppedforward with the same cat-like tread that had marked his advance fromthe first. He knew that his victim was shrinking behind the trunk of theoak, and he was having his own peculiar sport with him.
So intense was the attention of Terry that he heard distinctly thefootsteps of the warrior, who a moment later was close enough to touchthe tree with his hand, had he been so minded.
The Hunters of the Ozark Page 4