CHAPTER XVI.
THE RETREAT.
A few words gave his companions the substance of the conversation."Now," he continued, "I wish we could all get together in the camp fora few minutes to talk this thing over, and decide on our next move, butit's too risky to leave the wall unguarded, although I don't believethey will try another assault before dark."
The young Seminole spoke up, "when the Big Tiger speaks, the whelp issilent, I will stay."
"Golly, I reckon dis nigger ain't no good at planning, spec I betterstay here, too," observed Chris.
A parting volley was fired into the forest, and under cover of thesmoke the rest retired quickly to the lean-to.
The wounded man was lying awake on his couch, his keen, black eyesburning with an unnatural light.
Although he must have been suffering intense pain from his wound, hisfeatures were calm and composed. He tried to rise as the huntersentered, but could not raise himself even on his elbow.
"Don't try to move," exclaimed Charley, hurrying to his side.
"How," said the sufferer, in greeting, extending a hand surprisinglysmall and well-formed for a man of his size.
Charley gave it a hearty shake and his companions crowding around,gravely followed his example.
The wounded man lay silent for a moment surveying the little party withshrewd, appraising eyes. A friendly gleam shone in his beady orbs asthey lingered for a second on the captain's kindly, weather-beatenface. He looked a trifle longer at Walter's eager, open countenance,but his glance came back to rest on Charley's face, and to him hiswords were addressed.
"He, whom his people call the Big Tiger, was made as weak as a tinypapoose by the bullet of a jackal," he began in broken English. "TheLittle tiger has told me all; how the jackals would have taken theirprey but for your coming in the canoe of cloth and bringing thehelpless ones here. The jackals' bullet has sped true, and the BigTiger will lead his followers no more in the hunt, but the son of achief will remain and his life will be at the young white chieftain'scommand."
The stricken man burst into a fit of coughing, and Charley noted withpity that flecks of scarlet stained the sufferer's lips. "Shot throughthe lungs," he decided, but he allowed no trace of pity to show on hisface.
"A chief of the Seminoles must be wise with the wisdom of the owl incouncil," he said, as soon as the fit of coughing had left its victim."Payment from father or son we desire not, only the counsel of wisdomnow. We are but braves in the hunt or fight, and great dangerthreatens, now, but the ripe wisdom of a great chief may be able topoint out a path to safety."
Clearly and in few words, he described their present desperate positionand the demands and threats of the outlaws.
The Indian listened in impassive silence and for some time afterCharley finished, remained buried in profound meditation.
"The young white chief carries an old head on young shoulders," at lasthe said approvingly. "He speaks truly when he says that the air isthick with danger. When the blackness of night comes, then will come,also, those who make war from behind the trees of the forest. In thedarkness, how is the young white and his friends to tell enemies fromfriends? The jackals will wriggle through and over the wall of treeslike snakes through tall grass. After what they have seen, can mywhite friends expect mercy at hands already stained red?"
Charley shook his head. "Thou speakest my thoughts, but are we to bemurdered in the dark by creatures such as those?"
"The mind of the young is ever quick and hasty in its flights,"reproved the wounded chief, gravely. "What use for the medicine man topoint out the sickness, unless he has the proper barks and plants?"
"Well," said Charley, "let the wisdom of one grown wise in councilstell us of the cure for this disease."
The wounded savage was again seized with a fit of coughing, and it wassome moments before he could reply. "Between the glades and here--aswift half day's journey--a small island lies in the middle of theriver. There, four men could stand off an army. If I commanded thepaleface friends as I do my tribe, I would say, bury all things tooheavy to carry away in the canoes of cloth, while it is yet light, turnthe ponies loose that they may not starve. Put all else in the clothboats. Let some keep up a noise and fire from the wall of trees toconvince the white men without hearts that you are going to stay andfight. With the first darkness of night let all take to the boats. Iwith the Little Tiger will lead the way, then may come him you callcaptain with the little one whose face is like the night, lastly, maycome you and the one with the eager face (Walter). Without noise mustwe go, and keep close to each other, for the river has many armsstretched out for the unwary stranger. At the island of which I spoke,you may camp in safety while we go on alone. I stop at my wigwam todie, alone, in peace and quietness with the great spirit, as becomes achief of a long line of chiefs, but he, who will soon he chief, willtravel quickly on gathering together my people. With them he willreturn, and of the twelve who murder from behind trees not one shallreturn to boast of his deeds. When the buzzards are feeding off theirbones, then, may you return and secure that which you have buried, theponies, and all of that which is yours. That is the counsel of one ofa race of chiefs. What is the answer of the young white chief?"
"I must consult with those who share my dangers, Chief," said Charleygravely. "We talk not like squaws, and in five minutes you shall haveour answer."
The Seminole rolled over on his side exhausted from his long speech andfrequent coughing spells, while Charley beckoned the captain and Walterout of earshot.
"You have heard it all, now I want your opinion," he said simply."After this last terrible mistake of mine, it will be long before Itrust to my judgment again."
"We all fell into the same error, lad," said the captain, kindly. "Theblame, if any, belongs to us all. Forget it, Charley, and don't let itweaken your self-confidence. Now what do you think of the plan of ourred-skinned friend?"
"I believe it's our only chance for life," he answered regretfully,"those cut-throats have got us foul. It's run away or be killed."
"Then I'm for running. But, think you, he can be trusted to pilot usaright?"
"He will not pilot us far, I fear," said Charley, sadly. "I doubt ifhe will reach his wigwam. That bullet touched a lung all right. If hedies on the way we must look to the son; he is of the same spirit asthe father, or I am no judge of character."
"They both speak English wonderfully well," said Walter musingly.
"So do most of the Seminoles," explained Charley. "They come in to theoutlying towns at rare intervals to exchange their venison and skinsfor ammunition and cloth, and it's wonderful how quickly they pick upthe language. But I am rambling. The question before us is, shall weabandon all our things and run away with a fair chance of escaping withwhole skins, or stay and fight it out with the certainty of beingkilled, sooner or later?"
"Run," said the captain decisively, "and trust to luck and the chief torecover our things."
"Retreat," voted Walter regretfully.
Without another word, Charley turned back to the bedside of thesuffering savage, whose pain-tortured eyes had never strayed from theirfaces during the conference.
"Chief, we have decided that your plan is the only one to follow,"Charley said, simply.
Exultation showed for a second on the Indian's, set features. "Good,"he exclaimed, "listen, young white chief. Do not mourn the loss ofponies and things such as you must leave behind. To-day you riskedyour life to save a stranger Indian and his boy. Great shall be yourreward when this trouble is over. That with which to trade for manyponies shall be yours."
In his excitement the wounded man had partly raised himself on hiselbow, but the exertion was too much; there was a rush of blood fromhis lips and he sank back on his couch in a dead faint. In a secondCharley was by his side forcing down more brandy between the clenchedteeth. The powerful stimulant acted quickly. In a moment the suffereragain opened his eyes to consciousness. Charley beckoned
to his chum."Go relieve his boy," he whispered, "and send him here. I want him toget his instructions from his father before there comes another attack.The captain and I will fix for our departure."
"Good," exclaimed the chief, whose keen ears had caught thelow-whispered conversation, "we won't die yet, though. Die in our ownwigwam when Great Spirit tolls the bell of mystery."
Walter was off like a shot, and the young Seminole soon stood by hisfather's couch. While the two indulged in earnest conversation intheir own tongue, the captain and Charley worked hastily, for the sunwas already setting. What things they dared risk carrying were hustledinto the frail canoes. One of the couches was conveyed to the dugoutand spread out in the bottom and two of the thickest blankets spread ontop of the leaves. The ponies were cast loose to shift for themselves.Their remaining stuff was shoved into the water-proof bag and buried ina high spot. By the time this was done, the first shades of night hadfallen. At Charley's suggestion, all hurried into the barricade, andfor fifteen minutes poured a hail of bullets into the forest toconvince the outlaws that they were still there and on the alert.
Then all hurried back to the camp. Many hands made easy and gentlework of conveying the wounded man from his couch to the comfortable bedin the dugout. The young Indian took his place in the stern of theticklish craft, and with a single shove of his long pole sent it farout into the stream. The captain, with Chris, followed a few yardsbehind, paddling with soft noiseless strokes. A few yards in theirwake came the last canoe containing Walter and Charley, and quickly theoutline of the point was lost in the darkness behind.
Boy Chums in the Forest; Or, Hunting for Plume Birds in the Florida Everglades Page 16