CHAPTER XI
ON THE BANK OF THE YELLOWSTONE
"BAD news for us, Dick," muttered Roger, shaking his head despondently.
"I am sorry it had to happen," the other remarked; "but while there'slife there's hope. Jasper is no novice in woodcraft. Those Frenchmenand their red allies will find it no easy task to capture him. And evenif they should we are bound to try to bring about his release."
"It must have been that Francois Lascelles and his rascally son,Alexis, surely," ventured Roger.
"Yes, I am sure of it," Dick admitted, frowning.
"They were not satisfied with destroying the paper we had sent home,but came back to keep us from getting Jasper to sign another. Oh! theyare determined to steal our homes away from us! They will stop atnothing to take them!"
"All is not lost yet. Remember that we have always managed to pullthrough in times past. We shall again; something seems to tell me so."
When Dick said this he looked so determined and resolute that, asusual, Roger found his own spirits wonderfully revived.
"I complain a lot, I know," he remarked, as though ashamed ofhis actions, "but all the same I give up hard. Deep down there'sa never-say-die feeling in my heart. When you say we will keepeverlastingly at it you express what I feel."
Both felt better after that. They knew that it was useless to pay anyfurther attention to the faint trail of Jasper Williams and his twocompanions. They must trust partly to luck in order to once more runacross the man they so urgently desired to see.
"One thing we must remember," said Dick, as they again set forth ontheir way.
"What is that?" asked Roger.
"We have come to know Jasper fairly well since joining the exploringcompany, and helping him to escape from Running Elk's Sioux. We evenknow some of his signals, and if we have any reason to believe he isaround we can make use of them to communicate with him."
"That is a good idea," agreed Roger. "Even if he is a prisoner wecould let him know friends were near by using the secret call. But weseem to be making for the bank of the river; tell me what plan you havein mind now."
"You heard me ask Hardy about the exact place they were set upon by theBlackfeet? That is where we must go first of all. Trail we have none,for the last seen of Jasper he was on the water, which leaves no track.But, starting from that point we will follow up the river until we findsomething."
"We could not do better, I am sure," acknowledged the other, and Mayhewnodded his head as though he also concurred in the plan.
"If the Frenchmen are Lascelles and his son," continued Dick, as theytrudged along, "they would not care if Jasper were killed, so long ashe could not interfere again in their scheme to defraud our parents outof their property."
"Yes," added Roger, impulsively, "and, should our friend be captured,they would influence the Blackfeet to carry him far away to theirvillage in the Northwest country, where he would be made to adopt theirways and become an Indian warrior. Either that, or else he would beburned at the stake, after their usual custom with prisoners of war."
"We are close to the river," Dick announced.
The Yellowstone is a very turbulent stream, especially far up towardwhere it has its source in the great lake of the same name. It rushesdown over its rocky bed with numerous cataracts, making navigationimpossible to any but canoes managed by the most experienced paddlers.
The fretting of its current was plainly audible long before the littleparty arrived on the bank. Above and below, it wound in and out, seldomkeeping a direct course for half a mile, such was the roughness of thecountry through which it found a passage.
Without wasting any time in admiring the wonderful picture that wasnow spread out before them, the three scouts turned up-stream, andcontinued to advance. They were anxious to reach the scene of the fightbetween Jasper Williams's little band and the Blackfeet, set upon themby the unscrupulous French traders.
Having now been made aware of the fact that hostile Indians wereroaming the vicinity, they exercised more caution than up to this timehad marked their pilgrimage into the unknown land.
An hour--two of them--passed, and thus far nothing had occurred todisturb their peace of mind. All this time they had continued pushingforward. Occasionally they would make a little roundabout passage so asto clear an open glade where the danger of discovery was imminent. Nodiscordant yells from savage throats arose to thrill them.
"It seems to be a long way off, Dick," ventured Roger, who evidentlyhad not taken into consideration the fact that at the time of theattack Williams and his companions were something like half a day'sjourney along.
"We must be getting close to the place now," he was assured. "I wasjust deciding that the next bend in the river would turn out to bewhere they made their camp. Hardy told us, you remember, that they hadhardly settled down there last evening when they were attacked."
"Yes, it was an hour before sunset," he said. "They were feeling tired,and the chance for a fine camp tempted them to stop long before darkcame on. Hardy tried to describe the place to us, and I suppose youthink you can recognize it from the way the trees hang out over thewater?"
"That is what I settled in my mind; but we'll soon know. Given half anhour and we should be there."
The time dragged with the always impetuous Roger; but finally theyarrived at the bend of the river indicated. All immediately began tolook for signs to prove that the men had camped there.
A joyous exclamation from keen-eyed Roger announced that he had foundthe dead ashes of a fire in a little depression among the rocks. Thenthe others discovered footprints of moccasined feet, many of them inthe softer places where the earth was not yet frozen.
"Here are the tracks of Indians, for they all toe in," Dick observed,stating a fact that was well known to every pioneer boy of the day."Toeing-in" was invariably the sign of an Indian, though of course somebordermen had also taken to that method of walking, which is supposed,to be the natural way.
"And these others were made by whites, either our friends or theFrenchmen," added Roger, quick to pick out those that differed from thefirst type.
"I am looking for the track of Jasper," Dick told him, as he continuedto move this way and that, his eyes searching the ground as he nearedthe bank of the river.
"But tell me how you would know his trail from any other? Mostmoccasins make pretty much the same kind of a mark, I've alwaysbelieved."
"Well, Williams's do not, it happens," the other explained. "I thoughtyou must have noticed it as we came along. He bought the pair he iswearing from a Mandan squaw. They have a queer seam across the middle.I never saw one like it before, and I think that is the track now."
He pointed to the ground, and Roger, looking, gave a cry ofsatisfaction.
"It certainly is as you say, and here must be where Jasper jumped whenhe made for the water, and sprang into one of the dugouts. See, inmany places his footprints are partly covered by those of the pursuingBlackfeet."
"And this must be where he found the canoe into which he jumped,"continued Dick, as he showed his companion a slight depression in thesand.
Both stood and looked up the turbulent river. The water tumbled overthe rocks that thrust their heads above the surface in many places;it even leaped high in the air and sent out clouds of spray where acataract could be seen over toward the other shore. But whatever secretit held it gripped tightly, and neither of the boys could lift theveil.
"I wish we knew what happened up there, and if Jasper did get away, orwas taken by those plotting French traders and their red allies," musedRoger.
"Well, it will do no good for us to stop here and wish," his companiontold him. "There is work to be done, and the sooner we start thequicker we can reach the end. One thing is sure, if Jasper is alive,whether free or a prisoner, we will find him!"
There was no need of lingering any longer, since they had learned allthat could be ascertained. It fitted in with the story told by the twomen who had been Jasper Williams's companions.
"Besides, if we watch out we can see the marks left by those of theBlackfeet who ran along the shore expecting to head Jasper off; thoughI don't think they could do that, because in many places they wouldhave to pass around deep coves that lead many rods inland."
For some time they followed the river. Now and then they managed todiscover some tracks of the Indians, but at the end these seemed to bemissing, and it was concluded that the band must have left the streamto pass further back in the country.
Unable to find any trace of them, the boys were placed in the positionof not knowing whether Jasper had been taken or not. The going becameso difficult, and the hope of reward so slight, that in the end theydetermined it would be best to also leave the river, and take to thehigher ground.
Here they could wander about, constantly on the watch for some signthat would indicate a temporary camping place of those whom theysought. If a wisp of trailing smoke caught their attention it would domuch to locate the resting place of the Indians. They must eat, andparticularly the Frenchmen would desire a warm meal, so that in thisway those who sought them might be rewarded for their vigilance.
Hope was struggling with despair in Roger's heart. Look as he might, hecould not see any silver lining to the dark cloud. Still, the energyand resolution that his companion continued to show buoyed up his ownsinking spirits to a considerable extent.
They had now left the river far behind, and had entered upon a newphase of their journey. Several times at stated intervals they hadheard that singular deep throated rumble, and felt the ground trembleunder their feet. Whatever it could be that caused this strange sound,they were evidently approaching the scene of its mysterious operations,and might come upon it at any time.
It was about the middle of the afternoon when Mayhew uttered the lowhiss which they had settled on as a warning of danger. At that instantRoger and Dick also caught glimpses of flitting figures amidst theforest trees, which they knew must be Indians.
The Pioneer Boys of the Yellowstone; or, Lost in the Land of Wonders Page 14