Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the Frontier
Page 16
CHAPTER XVI.
THE DETOUR.
There could be no denying that extraordinary fortune had attended theboys, but they were too prudent to count on a continuance of what mightbe called the run of good luck, except by the utmost circumspection ontheir part.
They were together once more, with their guns, ammunition andaccoutrements intact, and without either having suffered any harm.Nothing would have been easier for them than to cross the ravine by thefallen tree, which had answered for a foot-bridge more than once thatevening, and in doing so it was not probable that they would have rungreater risk than they had repeatedly incurred during the preceding fewhours; but the necessity for such risk did not exist, and consequentlythey did not take it. Wharton suspected the truth. The Shawanoes,knowing that the lads, or at least one of them, was in the vicinity,were in ambush along the trail, with the expectation that they wouldwalk into the trap, which is exactly what they would have done had theytaken the path opposite to where they were standing while holding theirconversation.
The evident and simple course for them to follow was to make a detour,by which they would return to the trail at a point beyond where the redmen were awaiting them.
This was more difficult than would be supposed, for the route to theblock-house was a winding one, and they were unacquainted with thatportion of the country through which they would have to make their way.They might lose themselves altogether, though both were too goodwoodsmen not to eventually reach their destination.
But having decided on what to do, they wasted no time. Their purpose wasto cross the stream above where they had met, and Wharton picked his waysteadily through the wood, with Larry at his heels. Conversation wasdangerous, and none for a time was had, since there was no call for it.
The roughness of the ground gave them trouble from the first. They wereforced to turn aside repeatedly and flank bowlders, rocks, and wild,broken ravines, into which they would have fallen but for the alertnessof Wharton, who maintained his place a few paces in advance.
This course compelled them frequently to edge away from the stream,which still swept between such a high wall of rocks that it wasimpassable, but they never lost it altogether. By listening carefullythey could locate it, and at intervals they made their way to themargin, to learn whether the spot for which they were looking was withinsight.
"Well, I declare!"
It was Wharton Edwards who uttered the exclamation, and his companionpushed his way to his side to learn the cause of his excitement. As hedid so, he saw they were standing on the edge of a ravine which obtrudeditself at right angles to the course they were pursuing.
But for the fact that it contained no water, they would have believedthat it was the gorge through which ran the stream. But it was empty,and in the shadows neither could see to the bottom of its gloomy depths.The trees grew so near the margin that the opposite side was indistinct.
"I didn't expect to meet anything like this," added Wharton, with a sighof disappointment; "it means trouble."
"You can't tell till ye find out," was the somewhat superfluous remarkof Larry. "It may not run very far to the right or left, and we've hadso much experience in walking around things that this won't make muchdifference one way or t'other."
"I'm afraid we'll get so mixed up that we won't be able to find our wayfrom it now."
"It may be a lucky thing--maybe the same."
"What do you mean?"
"Who can say where they are waiting for us? It may be five or ten milesaway, or it may be within sight of the block-house. We can get therewithout setting foot in the trail agin."
"You may be partly right, Larry, though if we can strike the path fivemiles away from the falls, I won't be afraid to keep it until we reachthe block-house. The risk beyond that isn't any greater than what wehave always had to run from the time we leave the settlement till we getback again."
"It strikes me we are not gaining much time by standing here discussingthe question."
As Larry spoke he turned to the left and moved off.
"Hold on!" interrupted his companion; "that will take us farther awaythan ever, and may lead us so far that we'll lose the streamaltogether."
By going to the right they approached the current that had to be passedbefore they could recover the trail. Perhaps a passable spot was athand, and the means of crossing the smaller ravine was as likely to beon one hand as the other.
With the same pains and labor as before they reached the stream, wherethey found themselves confronted by a peculiar condition of affairs.The banks were somewhat farther apart, but they remained perpendicularrocks fully twenty feet in height, between which the torrent flowed soimpetuously that they would have been as helpless as a balloon in a galeof wind. The crossing-place was still to be sought farther up thestream.
But to reach it they must place themselves on the farther side of thesmaller ravine, which crossed their course at right angles. This openeddirectly into the current, with whose surface it was nearly even. Intimes of freshet or flood the dry ravine was probably a tributarytorrent of the other. At present it looked impassable, but afterstudying it a few moments Wharton said:
"I believe, Larry, we can both jump that. What do you think?"
"I won't know for sartin till I try it; then I'll know, sure."
"So will we both; but the distance is less than where I made the leap."
"So it will have to be if it's mesilf that's to sail across."
The conformation of the dry ravine near the stream allowed them to seethe other side. Wharton measured the width with his eye, and then,without a word, drew back a single step, and with little effort landedlightly on the opposite side.
"What do you think of that, Larry?"
"It isn't much for yersilf, but I would be proud of the same."
"I'm sure there will be no trouble. There is room for you to get acouple of yards start, and I wouldn't advise you to try it if I wasn'tsure you would succeed."
Young Murphy was plucky, but he surveyed the task before him with somemisgiving. With a depth of about twenty feet, and nothing but rock atthe bottom, a failure to land on the other side meant death or seriousinjury.
He stood on the edge, and spent a minute or two peering down into thegloomy depths. Then he looked across at his friend, who cheered him on.
"I'll thry it," he said, resolutely, and with a shake of his head.
"Fling over your gun to me; it will be easier for you to make the jumpwithout that than with it."
Larry tossed the rifle to his friend, who deftly caught the weapon.Then, with the grim comicality of his nature, he threw his cap after it.
"If I do make a tumble of it, I should like ye to preserve that as atoken of remembrance."
He now braced himself for the effort. With all his strength, he couldnot compare with his friend in speed and rapidity. The leap, however,was only a moderate one, and Wharton was confident he would make it ifno mishap intervened.
And, beyond question, he would have done so had no interference takenplace. He carefully backed a rod or so from the edge of the dry ravine.
Everything was going on well, but almost on the edge he stepped on asmall pebble, unnoticed by the eye. The effect was slight, and aspectator would hardly have seen it, but, all the same, it was justenough to disarrange his stride, so that when the leap, which he wasforced to make, took place, it was faulty. He lost the impetus thatotherwise would have landed him on his feet on the other side withhardly a jar to his body.
"I can't do it! I can't do it, Whart!" called the leaper at the momentof bounding into the air, for he could not fail to know that he wasabout to fall short.
The waiting friend said nothing, but braced himself for the shock, forhe, too, knew what was coming.
Larry barely missed landing, but his hands were thrown forward where hisfeet should have struck, and had he received no help he would have gonebackward and down the ravine.
But it was for this that Wharton Edwards had prepared himself. E
ach handof Larry was grasped by his own, and he almost lay on his back as hetugged to draw him out of the gorge and up on the solid support above.
Had not Wharton dug his heels into a projection, he would have had tolet go or be drawn downward with his friend, who could not help drawingtremendously on him. Larry, however, gave great aid by throwing onefoot on top of the rock, and using that limb as a lever with which tolift his body the rest of the short distance. This so lessened the taskthat the next minute the danger was over, and the two stood beside eachother.