The Edward S. Ellis Megapack

by Edward S. Ellis

  “The heart of Hay-uta bounds with joy when he looks upon the face of his brave brother of the unknown totem,” said the Sauk.

  “The Flying Deer, of the Pawnees, would weep till the Great Spirit in sorrow for him called him home, had he been made to wait for this brave warrior, who has journeyed so many suns that he may look upon his face,” was the substantial response of the Pawnee.

  All this was very fine, but one drawback remained—neither Indian understood a single syllable uttered by the other, but the beaming expressions scarcely needed literal interpretation. Truth makes it necessary to add that, with all this effusiveness, the warriors distrusted each other.

  Now began a conversation by means of signs, which it would be tedious to give in full. Fortunately for Hay-uta, he was so far removed from the scene of action in which Deerfoot and the others were playing such an active part, that he was quite secure against interruption, unless the fleeing Shawanoe should happen to take a turn in his flight which might bring the swarming pursuers in that direction.

  It was impossible for Hay-uta to know the real sentiments of the other, but, as a matter of precaution, he sought to draw him further away from the theater of action. The Pawnee must have understood, from the signals which had reached him, that an enemy was making a great stir, and that his own presence was desired.

  Furthermore, as the Sauk was a stranger, the natural supposition would be that he was an ally of the enemy. This could not fail to cause suspicion, but, having just vowed eternal friendship, policy required him to conceal his real sentiments.

  On the invitation of the Sauk, the other accompanied him a few rods, during which they conversed as well as they could in pantomime. While they managed to communicate a great deal, yet the limit was speedily reached. When Hay-uta tried to ask after the missing Otto, the other did not comprehend him, or, if he did, failed to make his sentences clear. In that respect, therefore, the mission of the Sauk was as barren of results as was that of Deerfoot.

  The Pawnee had not gone far, when he seemed to awake to the fact that he was doing an imprudent thing. He came to a halt and showed by his manner that he would go no further. Hay-uta could not urge him, and the two, therefore, stood face to face in the depth of the forest, while they talked to each other.

  The Sauk asked himself more than once whether, in a hand to hand fight with the other, the struggle being fair on each side, he could vanquish him. The Pawnee was tall, well-formed, athletic, and the knife thrust in the skin-sheath at his girdle looked as if it was longer and keener than the one Hay-uta carried, without sheath at all. The Pawnee was certain to be a formidable antagonist in such a contest, but the Sauk would not have hesitated to assail him, except through fear that others would be brought to the spot.

  No doubt the Pawnee took the measure of the stranger in the same manner, and it is reasonable to conclude that he felt no special fear of him. In fact, the two were like a couple of bull dogs, ready to fly at each other’s throat, without once thinking of what the issue was likely to be.

  But while they were holding their conversation, the Sauk carried out a singular thought. He asked himself whether he could not make a friend of the stranger—that is to say, a genuine friend, who would be held to him by gratitude.

  As to the method by which this was to be attained, even the ingenious mind of the warrior was unable to determine. All he could do was to seek to keep him company until some way should be open. The coming of any of the Pawnees, who were trooping at the heels of the Shawanoe, would be liable to scatter all such plans to the wind.

  The diplomats were doing their best to entertain each other, when a most unlooked-for interference took place.

  From where they stood, they were able to locate the clearing by means of a thinness of the trees, a few more rays of daylight penetrating from that direction. Hay-uta happened to be looking toward that point, when he caught the outline of a figure stealing along the margin of the opening.

  The sight was so unexpected that the manner of the Sauk betrayed the discovery, the instance being one of those rare ones in which he was caught off his guard. He reproached himself, for the back of his companion was turned toward the other, who was moving as silently as the shadow over the face of a sun-dial.

  The head of the Pawnee turned quickly, and he muttered a soft “—st!” At the same moment he began moving toward the other, with the absolute silence that the trained Indian shows when creeping into a hostile camp, where the rustling of a leaf brings discovery.

  Hay-uta could not but admire the skill of the Indian. At the same time, the action of the Pawnee in moving away from the Sauk, while his eyes were turned from him, thus placing himself at the mercy of Hay-uta, was an appeal to the honor of the latter, which, of itself, was the strongest safeguard of the Pawnee.

  Hay-uta fell in behind him, and the two advanced in their stealthy fashion among the trees for some twenty steps, when they gained full view of the third Indian, whose course was rather peculiar. He had stepped from the woods into the clearing, and was standing facing the other way, with his attention fixed on something too far off to be seen by the couple that were watching him.

  Hay-uta was astounded almost into betraying himself again when he saw that the Indian was Deerfoot the Shawanoe. He was watching the two Pawnees near the camp-fire, and was in the act of discharging the first arrow which broke the pipe of Red Wolf and threw him and Lone Bear into such consternation.

  It may have been because the youth carried a bow and arrow, instead of firearms, that the Pawnee thought he was a wanderer from beyond the Rocky Mountains, who had drifted into that section and was now making his way home. Certainly he could have had no suspicion of the prowess of the Shawanoe, nor could he have dreamed that he had been the sole cause of the hubbub that had reigned among the Pawnees, and even then was hardly ended. He appeared to believe, however, that he was one of a party who were their enemies, for he signed to Hay-uta that he meant that the stranger should not escape him.

  CHAPTER XI.

  A REVERSAL OF SITUATION.

  The situation was most peculiar for all three concerned. Despite the vigilance and woodcraft of Deerfoot the Shawanoe, he had allowed an enemy to creep up behind him and secure an advantage which could not be overcome. In the common parlance of the West, the Pawnee had the drop on the Shawanoe.

  But Hay-uta the Sauk was too deeply attached to the matchless young warrior to permit harm to befall him. He learned from his companion that it was not his purpose to shoot Deerfoot, but simply to keep him covered with his gun until he surrendered. Hay-uta decided to permit this, because he believed no harm to his friend could result, and he saw the possibility of showing a chivalry toward the Pawnee which might win his friendship.

  Having made sure the warrior did not mean to fire, Hay-uta kept a few paces in the background, while the two noiselessly advanced a half-dozen steps or more. It would have been the easiest thing in the world for the Sauk to apprise Deerfoot of his danger! a slight rustling of the leaves was all that was wanted. But it was not done, for, as I have said, Hay-uta was convinced that no immediate danger threatened his friend.

  Sauk and Pawnee stood motionless until Deerfoot was seen to be shaking with silent laughter. The sight of the two warriors running for life from the camp-fire in the open space satisfied the Pawnee that the youth had done his best to kill them, and was amused to see their fright at the moment when they were not in the slightest peril.

  The Pawnee now purposely rustled the leaves with his moccasin. The Shawanoe faced about like a flash. As he did so, Hay-uta, standing just back of the captor, made a gesture to his friend. Deerfoot “caught on”, and dropped his hands to his side, to signify his surrender. He divined the situation, and, schooled as he was in self-control, it was hard for him to restrain a smile over the thought of the trick played on the Pawnee. Probably no man was ever “fooled” to a more astounding extent than he was at that moment.

  The only thing feared by Deerfoot was that some o
f the other Pawnees would soon reach the spot and complicate matters, but, while the apparent conqueror was sanguine that he commanded the situation, Deerfoot knew he was master from the first.

  Looking straight at the Pawnee, he slowly said:

  “My brother the Sauk is wise; his companion is a Pawnee; let no harm befall him, for he has done no harm to us; but other Pawnees may soon be here; let Hay-uta point his rifle at the Pawnee so that he will turn his gun away from Deerfoot.”

  While speaking the Shawanoe kept his eyes fixed on those of the Pawnee, who, of course, supposed the words were addressed to him. He could not catch their meaning, but no doubt believed they referred to the completeness of the surrender just made. Had he been an aboriginal linguist, how different would have been his feelings!

  Having dropped his hands, and spoken his sentences, Deerfoot waited the action of Hay-uta.

  The latter still held the hammer of his rifle at full cock, and he instantly leveled it at the Pawnee, harshly ordering him to lower his weapon.

  The Pawnee was surprised. I am aware that this is stating it mildly, but so would it be if I used the strongest words at command. He seemed transfixed, and actually was unable to stir or even to lower his gun. But the action of his companion told the truth, and it must be believed that he was filled with biting chagrin because he was not acute enough to know that the aliens (one of whom seemed to come from the east and the other from the west) were allies.

  However, the tables were turned and no choice was left him. Down came his gun, the hammer was lowered and the stock dropped spitefully to the ground. It was the Shawanoe and Sauk who now “had the drop” on the Pawnee.

  By way of putting matters in a business-like shape, Deerfoot called to Hay-uta to keep his gun at a level, while he disarmed the prisoner. The Sauk obeyed, and Deerfoot walked quietly forward, and in the most matter-of-fact manner drew the knife of the Pawnee from its sheath at his girdle, extracted his tomahawk, and then gently removed the rifle from his nerveless grasp. Distributing the first two weapons about his person, the Shawanoe stepped back several paces, holding his bow in one hand and the gun in the other.

  Supposing Hay-uta had not been present, what would have been the result?

  I haven’t a particle of doubt that the Pawnee would have been vanquished by Deerfoot. The former could not have stood forever with his gun aimed, and when he lowered it he would have presented an “opening” of which the Shawanoe would have availed himself with the quickness of the lighting stroke.

  While Deerfoot was disarming the sinewy warrior, Hay-uta explained his wish to show him such consideration as to win his friendship. That being done, probably some way would open by which he could be used in tracing Otto Relstaub.

  “My brother is wise,” commented Deerfoot, who admired the cleverness of the Sauk, “but let him beware that the Pawnee does not betray him.”

  No one would have supposed from the deliberation of the Shawanoe that he was in fear of any thing, but, if it can be said that he was ever nervous over any thing, such was his condition now, through fear of irruption by a part or all of the Pawnee war-party. He felt that the danger increased every moment.

  No time, therefore, was lost. The Pawnee was directed to move on, the course taken being directly away from the camp-fire, and close to the open space between the woods and river. No fault could be found with the promptness displayed by the captive, who strode off as though on his way to a marriage feast.

  It was not necessary to keep a close watch over the prisoner, since the most he could do was to try to ran away, and he was not likely to attempt that when two loaded guns almost touched him.

  But the Pawnee did do something, which, under the circumstances, was a daring act.

  The procession had proceeded for a hundred feet or so, when he gave utterance to a ringing whoop, which could have been heard a half mile. Deerfoot was astounded, and half raised the gun with the intention of shooting him, but he changed his mind before the weapon reached his shoulder.

  But never did the Shawanoe display quicker readiness of resource than then. The Pawnee acted as though he believed his life would pay for what he had done, for, being a barbarian, he must have felt from the first that no mercy awaited him. Wheeling around, he folded his arms, straightened up and looked defiantly at the Shawanoe, saying plainly by his actions:

  “I am ready; look and see a warrior die!”

  But Deerfoot did a much wiser thing. Convinced that the whoop was a summons for help, he managed to impress the Pawnee with the fact, that the only way to save his life was to send a second signal, the import of which would be that he was in no need of help and had no news to give, but would be glad to receive any tidings his friends possessed.

  It required some vigorous sign language on the part of Deerfoot to bring the Pawnee to his views. One of the most convincing arguments, however, was the thunder-cloud on the face of the Shawanoe, and the upraised tomahawk, poised and ready to be buried in the skull of the captive.

  And so the desired message was sent from the throat of the frightened Pawnee. Deerfoot could not be certain that the cry conveyed the meaning he desired, but he noticed that the modulation of the voice was different and he was almost satisfied on the point.

  As a matter of precaution, he now fell to the rear, directing Hay-uta to take care of the captive. He was at liberty to shoot him if he made a break for freedom, and there was little doubt that Hay-uta would do so.

  As for the Shawanoe, he meant to keep watch for the other Pawnees, who were now all behind them. Even if their prisoner had countermanded his call for help, little time could elapse before Lone Bear and Red Wolf would make known how recently they had seen the dusky demon. Of course they would suppress the part they had played in the proceeding, but would be likely to send a large party after the Shawanoe, as soon as it could be brought together.

  Deerfoot, therefore, dropped a hundred feet to the rear, still carrying the captured gun and his bow, and half disposed to make a compulsory trade with the Pawnee. He could hardly convince himself, however, that such a proceeding would be pleasing to the Great Spirit, and he put the temptation behind him.

  He was on the lookout for the warriors who had shown themselves so plentiful only a short time before. His purpose was to apprise Hay-uta the moment they appeared, when without a second’s delay, the two would dash off, leaving their prisoner to return to his friends. In the event of such an issue, as it would be impossible to make a friend of their captive, the Sauk favored sending a bullet through him before parting; but Deerfoot was so emphatic in protesting against such savagery, that Hay-uta promised to obey him.

  Succeeding events left no doubt that the prisoner did precisely as ordered by his captor; that is to say, he recalled his first signal and notified his comrades that he had no need of their presence.

  When, some minutes later, several of the Pawnees straggled back to camp, they found Red Wolf and Lone Bear awaiting them. The former looked as if he had been put to soak for several days in the river, while Lone Bear was weak from the fright he had received. He did not blush, when he made the statement that the young demon had appeared but a few minutes before on the margin of the wood, accompanied by seven warriors, and that they instantly opened by launching arrow after arrow in the direction of the Pawnees.

  Red Wolf said that he hastened to the river bank with a view of securing a spot from which to reconnoiter their enemies, but he caught his foot in a root and fell into the water; that accounted for his moist condition.

  The warrior had hardly reached that point in his narrative, when he perceived that he had gone too far. Indian scouts, when stealing along the banks of a stream, are not apt to roll into it and under the surface, either accidentally or for the fun of the thing. The Pawnee, therefore, told the truth, except that he joined Lone Bear in declaring that their foe was accompanied by seven others, who seemed as eager as he to slay them.

  It would seem that the fact that none of the other Pawnees had
discovered any of the seven, would have discredited the statement of Red Wolf and Lone Bear; but the two were so strenuous in their declaration that it produced the effect desired. Some of the listeners believed there was a large party of enemies at hand, and prudence demanded that their own warriors should be called together and precautions taken against surprise.

  It was accordingly so done.

  CHAPTER XII.

  INDIAN HONOR.

  By this time the sun had reached the rim of the horizon, and the shadows were deepening under the trees. Deerfoot dropped further behind the Sauk and Pawnee, the three still pushing westward, which was opposite the course that would have been taken to reach the camp-fire. The highly trained senses of the young Shawanoe could hear and see nothing to show that his enemies were near at hand.

  Every minute now lessened the danger, for only a little more obscurity was required to prevent the keenest eyes of an American Indian from detecting the footprints in the forest. He concluded that, from some cause or other, the Pawnees had given over the pursuit.

  So soon as Deerfoot was convinced on this point, he hastened to overtake Hay-uta, who was walking almost on the heels of the captive. The latter was not lacking in a certain dignity. He did not shamble along, as though his courage had been driven from his body. He walked erect, with head high, scarcely deigning to bend it to avoid an occasional interfering limb. He preferred to flank rather than stoop to such an obstruction. His carriage was so proud indeed that it looked as if he were a conqueror, with his two slaves walking behind him. Not once did he look about, or act as though he suspected the presence of friend or foe.

  This curious procession lasted until the three were nearly a half mile from camp. By that time, night was closing in, and the gloom was such that Deerfoot was persuaded he need give no further thought to the Pawnee war party.

  Hay-uta had acted the part of conductor, without much thought as to the course they were taking. Swerving to the right, they were soon beyond sight of the open space, and for a while the march was through the trackless forest; but, while the red men deviated very little from the path, the river, like all streams, took a winding course, and, just at the moment that Deerfoot joined the Sauk, the three debouched from the woods and (inasmuch as the open space had dwindled to a mere ribbon) found themselves close to the edge of the stream. There of necessity they halted.