The Pioneer Boys on the Great Lakes; or, On the Trail of the Iroquois

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XV

  ON THE TRAIL OF THE IROQUOIS

  "YES, you are right, Sandy," said Bob, as he, too, discovered the smallflaming signal, evidently a part of a large red kerchief he rememberedthe jovial Irish trapper possessed, and which he was not averse tosacrificing in an emergency.

  They headed the boat straight for the willow that hung over the edge ofthe water, and a minute later its keel grated on the pebbly beach. Bothboys instantly jumped ashore, and hastened to reach the signal; forthey saw that again had the woodsman left a note in a splintered stick,as though desirous of giving those he knew would surely follow afterhim such information as he himself had obtained.

  "The four Senecas at cabin--Black Beaver, young chief--lodges on shore of Great Lake, far to north, and west of big falls. I push on. We may meet later. Hope! Remember our signal calls!"

  Every word was to the point, and in that brief communication thetrapper had given them much news. First and most important of all hehad confirmed the suspicion both boys had entertained as to its beingBlack Beaver who had done this cruel and treacherous deed. Then he hadtold them where the village was located to which the Seneca belonged,which information might yet prove of great value to them in case theywere unfortunate enough to lose the trail, and have to push on ata hazard. They had heard of the mighty cataract, Niagara, that laybetween two of the lakes, and which was undoubtedly meant.

  What he wrote about the signals they also understood to signify thatif, at any time, they heard the call of a bird, thrice repeated, itwould be his method of communicating the fact that he was near by. Manytimes had O'Mara amused and interested the Armstrong boys with hisclever imitations of various feathered and furred inhabitants of thewilderness; and even taught them to copy the same, so that they couldread a message in such sounds.

  "We must first of all conceal the dugout," said Bob, when his brotherbegan to exhibit an eagerness to be off.

  "Then let us not waste another minute, Bob!" cried Sandy, as he laidhold on the bow of the craft, prepared to do his share toward carryingit into the adjacent bushes, where it might remain hidden until suchtime as they again wanted to cross the river.

  This duty done, Bob was ready to take up the trail.

  "See how thoughtful O'Mara has been," he remarked, immediately.

  "I see what you mean," replied Sandy, quickly. "He has made heavytracks as he followed after the Indians, so that we might have aneasier task. That ought to help us greatly, Bob, don't you think?"

  "Surely," the older boy remarked, as he led the way into the thickestof the neighboring woods.

  "But you look unhappy," continued Sandy, who was quick to read the faceof his brother. "What worries you now, Bob? Are you positive that Kateis with these Indians? Once or twice a horrible fear has forced itselfinto my brain that they may have slain her, and hidden her body awaysomewhere."

  "No, no, do not think that!" cried Bob, instantly, though he could notrepress the shudder that his brother's gloomy words brought upon him."I know she is alive, or was when the Indians stepped ashore, for Ibelieve I saw the faint impression of her little moccasin in the earth,almost hidden by the tread of a brave."

  "Then what makes you frown and look so black?" demanded Sandy.

  "You forget that the day is almost done," the other remarked,significantly.

  "To be sure it is," replied Sandy, casting a glance aloft to whereglimpses of the sky could be seen through the dense branches of thetall forest trees.

  "And that when night comes we shall no longer be able to follow thetrail, while those we hunt can keep right on, hour after hour, puttingmile after mile between us. That is what makes me bitter," Bob said,even though he did not pause in his onward movement.

  "But what is to hinder our securing torches, and continuing on as longas we can put one foot before the other?" demanded his brother.

  "An excellent idea, and we must try it," declared Bob, nodding his headas if pleased over this bright thought. "In that way we may at leastcut down some of their long lead, which will count sooner or later inour favor."

  "Yes," continued the other lad, "and if, by chance, Pat O'Mara shouldglimpse our moving torch, be sure he will hasten to join us. I willkeep an eye out from now on, so as to pick up enough fat pine wood toserve us for torches, once it grows too dark for you to see the trailplainly."

  Bob hastened as well as he was able, and, for another hour, they keptmoving on, steadily heading into the deeper forest, where perhaps thefoot of a white man had never before been set.

  Then came the darkness which they dreaded. By slow degrees Bob wasfinding his task more and more difficult. Time was when he could seethe plain trail left by their friend, the Irish trapper, as well as thefootprints of the savages, without bending over to any extent. Then hehad to get his face closer to the ground, as twilight came on, until,finally, he declared that he could no longer be positive that he wasright.

  They dared not risk losing the trail. Consequently it became necessaryto halt for a brief rest, during which they might munch some of thetough pemmican provided for just such an emergency. Then, a littlelater, when they felt refreshed, the tracking could be resumed by theaid of a flare.

  Darkness now surrounded them. The trackless forest stretched ahead,peopled only with enemies, both animal and human. These young pioneersnever once faltered in their self-appointed task. If, at any time, sucha feeling tried to take possession of their hearts, it was indignantlysuppressed. Only a thought of Kate, or of that almost distracted motherwhom they had promised so faithfully to serve as though they were mengrown, was needed to inspire them anew with determination.

  Presently Sandy took his tinder bag, got to work with flint andsteel, and, being somewhat of an expert in this necessary woodsman'saccomplishment, soon had a torch blazing merrily.

  This Bob held as he once more took to the trail, gripping his gun inone hand. Sandy came close at his heels, with his cocked musket readyto be discharged at a second's warning, and endeavoring to see into theimpenetrable walls of darkness that surrounded them.

  "How does it go, Bob?" he asked after a bit, during which they hadcovered fully fifty yards.

  "Fine!" answered his brother. "I have no difficulty now, in seeing thetracks. If only they would halt for the night, we might come up withthem. But Indians can keep up a dog-trot for hours, you know; and thesethieves are doing that now."

  "But can one of them be carrying our sister all this time?" asked Sandy.

  "Not so. Look here, and you will see the print of her moccasin. I knowit well, because it is so much smaller than the others," remarked Bob,halting a minute to point to the ground at a certain open spot.

  "Yes," cried Sandy, eagerly, "and surely I ought to know it, too, sinceI helped Kate make those same moccasins. She is alive and well up tonow. But, after all, Kate is a girl, and she will not be able to travellong in this fashion."

  "Then they will either have to stop and make camp, or else pick her upand carry her," Bob declared, positively.

  "But which do you think it will be?" asked his brother.

  "They fear the anger of the whites so much," Bob continued, once moremoving on, "that they are anxious to get as far away as they can fromthe settlement. Perhaps they know Colonel Boone to be our friend,and his name is feared in every Indian wigwam from Fort Pitt to theMississippi, and from the Great Lakes down to the southern border ofthe Dark and Bloody Ground known as Kentucky. They will go on, andcarry Kate."

  After that for a long time the brothers did not exchange words, savewhen something came up to excite their curiosity or their fears thatthey were about to lose the trail.

  "I can see signs to tell me they have begun to stop now and then tohide their tracks. Only for the help given by O'Mara I would perhapshave to stop until we had daylight to show us the trail," Bob haddeclared, much to the distress of his companion; for Sandy was easilyinfluenced to extremes by either good or bad fortune.

  "We must go on just as far as we dare to-night," h
e said, stubbornly."Every furlong gained will count in the end. As for being tired,I forget all that when I see mother's dear face as she kissed usgood-bye, and begged us not to give up until we believed every hopegone."

  So, for another half hour, they managed to move along. Three torcheshad been consumed thus far, and Sandy held only one more. It wouldprobably be sufficient, for human nature has its limit, and the boyscould hardly expect to keep up this killing pace all through the longhours of that dreadful night.

  Now and then Bob would stop for a brief time to straighten up, andrest his cramped back. At such times it was only natural for him tostare ahead into the black depths of the woods that confronted them,stretching away hundreds of miles to the mysterious north, untilfinally they ended on the shore of that inland fresh water sea nowknown as Lake Erie, but at that time going with the others under thegeneral name of the Great Lakes, though some called it after the tribeliving on its shore.

  It was on one of these breathing halts that Sandy, happening to send aglance back along the hidden path they had come over, gave a low cry,and gripped the arm of his brother convulsively, as he exclaimed in awhisper:

  "We are followed, Bob! I surely saw the figure of an Indian flittingfrom tree to tree, back there! Drop the torch and fall flat, before anarrow comes!"