Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the Frontier

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

  CHAPTER XIII.

  A BLUNDER.

  Blazing Arrow possessed the subtlety of a serpent and the cunning of afox. Underneath his actions lay his unextinguishable hatred of the whiterace. His anger against it seemed always to be flaming at white heat.

  But the slyest and wisest of animals and men are liable at times tooverreach themselves. Had the imp been content with what wasunquestionably a remarkable exploit he would have held Wharton Edwardsat his mercy, but he must needs spoil all by his attempt to makeassurance doubly sure.

  He had not seen the youth after he watched him disappear across theclearing where the back trail entered the woods. He never suspected thathe was not on his front on the return, and failed to see his last leapacross the torrent. Confident, however, that he was not far off, hebegan a search for him, with the hope of getting matters in better shapebefore rejoining his comrades with an account of his experience.

  It happened, therefore, that when young Edwards made his dove-call toLarry Murphy, Blazing Arrow was so near that he heard it. He knew thatit came from none of his people, and consequently must be from one ofthe whites.

  With extraordinary cleverness he replied by several notes, whoseresemblance to those causing them was so wonderfully close as to beperfect. Fearful, however, that he might not have hit the exact note, herepeated the call.

  And in doing so he made the fatal blunder. One of the unchangeable lawsgoverning Wharton Edwards and Larry Murphy at such times was that underno circumstances was either to repeat a signal without a minute or twointerval. It was the violation of this rule that apprised the youth ofhis peril and gave him time to save himself.

  Suspecting that it was Blazing Arrow who was near, Wharton retreatedfarther into the wood. In making the movement he used all the caution hecould, and believed that no one had overheard him. What followed lookedas though he was right in the conclusion, for the Indian, without movingfrom his tracks, signalled again, making the same mistake as before byrepeating it, in his effort to repress his impatience at the delay inthe response.

  "I don't think I'll be in a hurry to open a conversation with you,"thought Wharton; "I'm looking for somebody else."

  He was still in a dangerous situation, however, and continued edgingaway from the locality where he had come so near falling a victim to theresentment of the warrior, who was among the most cunning of his tribe.Wharton's heart sank when, despite the extreme care he used, he caughthis foot in a running vine and narrowly escaped falling. He instantlystraightened up and waited for the attack that he was sure was coming;but, as the minutes passed, he concluded the Indian was already so faroff that the slight rustling did not reach him. It was probable thatthe Shawanoe, in trying to outwit the youth, had moved away from him,and the two were now separated by a considerable space.

  How was it that this Indian was in possession of the signal which thetwo youths used when in danger?

  In the case of Wharton, however, there was little of the anxiety of hisfriend. The latter heard the call before emitting it himself, so that itwas impossible that Blazing Arrow should have got it from him; and,since Wharton Edwards was the only other person that possessed it, themisgiving of the Irish lad was warranted.

  But with Wharton the case was different. Blazing Arrow's signalsucceeded his, and, therefore, was but a clever imitation.

  "It may be that he got it from Larry," reflected our young friend, "butthe chances are against it. Where can the fellow be?"

  It was an exasperating reflection that for hours the work had been of ablind nature, as may be said. The youths had been separated, there hadbeen a fierce race, fighting, and running back and forth, and allmanner of incidents, and yet matters stood as at the beginning.

  While this was a cause for gratification in one respect, inasmuch as thetwo were still safe from the most dreaded tribe of Indians in the West,the disheartening fact was that the boys were just where they were whenthe danger broke upon them. They had not advanced a rod along the trailto the block-house, where Wharton's parents would probably arrive thatevening. The prospect was poor for the boys appearing until long afterthe hour they were expected.

  "We ought to have had an understanding before we separated; but then,"added Wharton disgustedly, "I don't see how we could, or what good itwould have done. Larry wouldn't leave as long as he thought I was introuble, and I'm sure I wouldn't desert him. I wonder now----"

  A new thought had come into his mind--that of withdrawing from theneighborhood, making all haste to the block-house, and bringing backaid. There was always a number of the most skilled rangers of thefrontier at this post, and they were ever ready to respond to any callfor help. Probably Daniel Boone or the great Simon Kenton was at hand,with unerring rifle and marvellous woodcraft.

  Wharton could reach the block-house before daylight, and be back whilethe day was yet young, with his new friends. Learned in the ways of thewoods and the red men, they would quickly become the hunters instead ofthe hunted, and teach the marauders a lesson to be remembered forever.

  Had the question presented itself as it did after his vanquishment ofBlazing Arrow, the youth would have continued his flight along thetrail, and been back with his friends before or by the time the sun wason the horizon. As it was, he debated the question a long time, and thendecided not to continue the journey until he gained some definiteknowledge of Larry; his own movements depended upon that. If the otherhad fallen, then Wharton should not lose a moment hurrying away from theaccursed neighborhood. If his comrade was a prisoner of the Shawanoes,he must be equally prompt in securing assistance, since he unaided coulddo no good; but if the other was still his own master, then both wouldgive an exhibition of rapid travelling toward the block-house.

  "No," said young Edwards, resolutely, "I don't go till I learn somethingabout Larry. I'll do just as he would do if in my place."

  And he might have added, truthfully, "and just what he is doing at thismoment."

  Manifestly there was but one way to learn the truth, and that was byinvestigating, and the only way to investigate was to keep moving, whichhe did.

  The night was so far along that the Shawanoes were quite certain to havekindled a camp-fire somewhere in the woods. This was their custom, andit was this beacon light, as it may be called, for which young Edwardsnow began hunting.