The Edward S. Ellis Megapack

by Edward S. Ellis

  Deerfoot turned and looked in the face of the lad.

  “Does my brother wish Deerfoot to sit down and fold his hands and wait for days and weeks, all the time not knowing whether Whirlwind will come back again or not? Does not my brother see that there is not a day nor an hour to be wasted? Deerfoot would die many times while waiting for Amokeat; he cannot do it.”

  This was another way of declaring that the young Shawanoe meant to set out to recover his steed without an hour’s unnecessary delay. All felt in the circumstances that it was the best thing to do. No one offered further suggestion. Mul-tal-la, who had spoken hardly a word, now told Deerfoot he would find out all that was to be learned of Amokeat and his party.

  Left alone with the lads, the Shawanoe explained the plan he had formed.

  “Mul-tal-la will take my brothers to his home among the Blackfeet, where they will stay until spring comes; winter is too near for them to travel any farther toward the Ohio. Mul-tal-la will make them welcome and they will not want for food and comforts.”

  “And what of you?”

  “When Deerfoot meets Whirlwind, the two will join his brothers and all will be together till the sun begins to melt the snow on the sides of the mountains. Then they will set out for the Ohio which they left so many months ago.”

  “Will you make this search for Whirlwind on horseback or on foot?”

  “On foot; there is no horse that can help me. Whirlwind would be offended if he saw me come after him on any other of these animals. Deerfoot can travel better on foot than any other way.”

  “You wish us to take our horses with us to the Blackfoot country?”

  The Shawanoe nodded.

  “Take the four and keep them among the Blackfeet; they will be needed by us when spring comes.”

  “You have plenty of bullets and powder. Is there anything of ours that you would like?” asked Victor.

  “Yes,—that; it may be of help to Deerfoot.”

  The dusky youth pointed to the spyglass suspended by a cord around the neck of George Shelton. The owner instantly slipped the string over his head.

  “You are welcome to it and to anything else of ours.”

  “Deerfoot thanks his brothers, but there is nothing more he wishes. He has his rifle, his powder horn, his bullet pouch, his flint and steel and his hunting knife. Anything more would be a burden, but his heart is warm with gratitude to his brothers.”

  At this point in the conversation, Mul-tal-la returned with news of what he had learned by his inquiries among the Nez Perces.

  The knowledge amounted to little. Chief Amokeat had led his warriors northward three days before, starting just as the sun appeared. He gave no word as to when he would come back, and none could do anything more than guess, nor was the leader clear as to the nature of the business on which he ventured. Perhaps he himself did not know.

  Still the task that Deerfoot had set himself seemed possible of accomplishment. Knowing the point at which the party left the village and the course taken by them, he could strike the trail, and to keep to it would not be more difficult than many feats he had performed amid the forests and canebrakes of Kentucky and Ohio. He made sure that there was no mistake at the beginning. Then he bade his friends good-bye.

  Before doing so he talked for some minutes with Mul-tal-la. The Blackfoot favored the course Deerfoot had laid out for himself, though it was not unlikely that the fact that opposition was useless may have had its weight in the conclusion reached by Mul-tal-la. He told the Shawanoe that he would proceed straight to the Blackfoot country, and there await the coming of his friend, who expected like the boys to spend the winter in that northern region.

  Deerfoot disliked “scenes” as much as did George and Victor Shelton. The only ceremony between him and the three was the shaking of hands and the expression of good wishes. Thus they parted. The dusky youth made his way directly to the point where he had been informed Amokeat and his party had left on their northward excursion, and, without looking behind him, found the trail and began his long journey.

  Mul-tal-la waited for some minutes after his departure and then gave the word for the brothers to make ready. Accordingly, the horses were brought to the village, the saddles and bridles taken from the lodge of the chieftain, where they had been stored, together with the superfluous articles left behind when the explorers started on their canoe voyage down the Columbia. To this property was added that which had gone on the voyage. Everything was carefully packed on the back of Zigzag, saddles and bridles were put in place, all three mounted, waved good-bye and thanks to the Nez Perces, most of those that remained behind having gathered to see the visitors off. Then these in turn began the journey which was to take them through a pass in the Rocky Mountains and into the extensive Blackfoot country. For a time we will leave them to themselves and give our attention to Deerfoot, who was never more resolute of purpose than when he determined not to rejoin his friends until he had recovered Whirlwind, or at least gained tidings of him.

  It may be said that the young Shawanoe was hopeful of finding the stallion unharmed, and he had reasonable ground for such hope. He could not help feeling displeased with the action of Amokeat, who certainly had presumed in thus using the property of another. Still, if no harm had befallen the steed, the Shawanoe would check the reproof he had in mind.

  Several facts caused Deerfoot uneasiness. The beauty and nobleness of the stallion could not fail to excite envy wherever and by whomever seen. His owner believed that Amokeat would steal him if he had the chance, but it need not be explained that the circumstances rendered that impossible. In venturing upon this raid, the Nez Perces were sure to come in collision with hostile Indians. They had lost warriors and horses before. Indeed, their enemies had invaded the homes of the Nez Perces and robbed them. Suppose Amokeat and his companions got into a fight with some of the northern tribes. As likely as not the Nez Perces would be defeated. In that case, Whirlwind would be first of the spoils gathered in by the victors.

  Suppose again the Nez Perces were victorious. The possession of the matchless stallion must be betrayed to their enemies, who would leave no stone unturned to capture him. There was every reason, too, to fear that the hostiles would be successful; for they would be in their own country and have every advantage on their side. With all the charity that Deerfoot could feel, he could not help condemning the Nez Perce chieftain for taking the great risk of causing the loss of Whirlwind.

  You need hardly be reminded that if Deerfoot found this had taken place, he had no thought of giving up the hunt. If it was conceivable that the steed had fallen into the hands of the Eskimos, and they had journeyed to the Arctic circle with him, the Shawanoe would have kept straight on until he overtook the despoilers.

  The Shawanoe gave a fine exhibition of his consummate skill in tracking a party of horsemen. When this party numbered a score, more or less, it was no trouble to keep to the trail, which was plainly marked; but had he done this his progress would have been delayed, for he would have had to follow every turning and doubling, which would have made the journey twice as lengthy as a straight line.

  When Deerfoot was hardly a mile from the Nez Perce village he followed the footprints to the top of a ridge, where he paused and scanned the broad, mountainous country spread out before him. He knew the Nez Perces must have reached this point shortly after sunrise. He noted the general direction of the trail as it descended the slope in front, and accepted that as the course which the horsemen intended to follow. Then he fixed upon the point where they would be likely to make their midday halt. It was a clump of trees and undergrowth on the shores of a small lake, whose waters gleamed in the sun. Paying no further attention to the trail itself, Deerfoot set out at a swift lope for the body of water.

  CHAPTER III

  The Trail Northward

  The small lake which was the destination of Deerfoot seemed to be only two or three miles distant, but he knew it was all of twenty miles away. Being on foot, he took the mo
st direct course. The route of the horses was of necessity so tortuous and difficult that it must have been fully a half greater than the direct one. The task was so easy for the Shawanoe that he did not lope or run, but kept up his swinging gait, which caused him not the least fatigue. Now and then he was forced to make a circuit around a mass of rocks, or a densely wooded section, but these diversions were of little account. They might have been twice as extensive and still he would not have minded them.

  When near the body of water he climbed another ridge, upon whose crest the growth of wood was slight, and took a sweeping survey of the surrounding country. The scenery was magnificent and impressive. Far to the northward rose a towering range of mountains, whose snowy peaks pierced the sky and suggested enormous white clouds piled against the horizon. To the west rose another range, one of whose summits was loftier than any within his range of vision. Seen in the far distance, the soft air gave it a slight bluish tint, which gradually dissolved into fleecy whiteness toward the crest. To the eastward the landscape was made up of ridges, elevations and valleys, with growths of pine, cedar, oak and other species of wood. The lake’s outlet was toward the west, winding in and out among the depressions until a curve hid it from sight fully a score of miles away.

  There was a biting sharpness in the air that told of the nearness of winter, for the month of November was come, and in that northern latitude the rigorous season would soon set in. A whiff of air which fanned the face of the Indian brought the chill of snow and ice in it, while here and there the leaves of some of the deciduous trees drifted downward like the soft falling flakes of snow.

  Deerfoot raised the glass to his eyes and slowly swept the field of vision. It was a striking proof of the solitude of this immense region that he did not see the first sign of a human being. No horsemen riding across the open spaces or climbing the wooded heights formed a part of the picture, nor in any direction could he detect the faint smoke of a camp fire. Wherever the Nez Perces whom he was pursuing might be, they were still a long distance away.

  But the diversified landscape did not lack animal life. The most interesting sight was that of two grizzly bears, that were frolicking like a couple of puppies in an open space at the foot of a slight elevation. Deerfoot held the glass pointed at them for some minutes and more than once smiled at the odd picture. The great hulking brutes tumbled, rolled, pawed and boxed each other, all the while pretending to bite and yet taking care that neither tooth nor nail did harm. Then one would start to run off, as if frightened, with the other in hot pursuit. When overtaken, and sometimes before, the fugitive would wheel and cuff and bite at the other, as if in a dreadful rage. You know how amusing the antics of kittens and puppies are. Imagine, if you can, two enormous bears disporting themselves in the same comical fashion, and you will understand why the Shawanoe watched the couple minute after minute, forgetting for the time the serious business on which he was engaged.

  But this was not all that attracted him in his surroundings. From out the undergrowth on the northern side of the stream forming the outlet of the lake came two or three hundred buffaloes, their dusky bodies imparting a strange appearance of agitation to that portion of the landscape. They headed for the stream, which was no more than a hundred feet in width, and plunged in, pausing long enough to drink, flirting their tails and tossing their heads, bellowing and crowding one another. The water was too shallow to force them to swim, but it was splashed and flung in all directions. When those at the front emerged they broke into a gallop, with the others dashing tumultuously after them.

  Their course brought them within a few rods of the base of the elevation on which Deerfoot was standing. He walked down the slope until quite near the head of the herd, when he brought his rifle to his shoulder and sent a bullet just back of the foreleg of one of the bulls. The stricken beast made a single plunging dive and then rolled over dead. Being on the fringe of the herd he was not trampled upon, and none of his companions paid any attention to him. The bison is—or rather was—a stupid creature, his own destruction often resulting from his lack of ordinary intelligence.

  Deerfoot waited until the last animal had passed, when he went forward to where the carcass of the game lay and deftly extracted its tongue. He did not touch any other portion, but, washing the delicacy in the stream, carried it to the small grove of trees which he had fixed upon in his mind as the place of the encampment of the Nez Perces, on their first day after leaving their village.

  Before he reached the shelter of the clump of trees the quick eye of the Shawanoe saw the imprints of hoofs, and signs of a party of horsemen having halted at the spot. Chief Amokeat and his Nez Perces had made their first meal on fish drawn from the lake, as was shown by the fragments of their feast scattered round. Considerable ashes indicated the spot where a fire had been kindled, in the usual primitive manner of spinning a light pointed stick, whose sharpened end was thrust into another dry branch.

  Thus Deerfoot’s calculations proved to be right. He had reached the scene of the midday halt of the Nez Perces by traveling about two-thirds of the distance of his predecessors. With his flint and steel he soon had a blaze going. Over it he broiled the bison tongue, cut into thin strips, and ate his fill. The meal was a big one for him, and he would not go out of his way to procure any more food for twenty-four hours or more. Taking a long draught from the cold, crystalline waters, he resumed his journey, which was due north, his blanket fastened about his shoulders, and his rifle sometimes resting in the crook made by bending his left arm at the elbow, after the style of modern sportsmen, held sometimes in a trailing position, and again reposing upon his shoulder.

  For two miles or more he kept to the trail, inasmuch as it was direct and nothing was to be gained by leaving it. With his senses alert, he finally turned to the right, in order to take advantage of a mass of rocks on ground so elevated that a more extensive view than the former one could be secured. He climbed as nimbly as a monkey to the top, glanced over the many square miles spread out before his gaze and then looked northward.

  Ah! he saw something suggestive. The glass was pointed toward the spot and instantly confirmed the unaided eye. In the horizon, in the mist of a stretch of wooded country, he observed a faint, almost invisible line of vapor climbing upward into the cold blue sky, and gradually dissolving, until at the height of a hundred feet or less all trace of it vanished.

  The most careful scrutiny could not tell anything more. The spot was between fifteen and twenty miles away, with the roughest sort of country intervening. It was a good day’s journey distant, but in the same moment that Deerfoot made his interesting discovery he resolved to thread his way to the place without a minute’s halt on his part until he reached his destination.

  His quick mind instantly saw several explanations of the “sign.” It could not be the Nez Perces riding north, for it was impossible that they had lagged to such an extent on the road. If it was Amokeat and his party, they must be returning from their raid, or hunting expedition, or whatever had engaged their energies. It would seem more likely that the Indians belonged to some other tribe. Be that as it may, the only means of answering the question was by finding out for himself, and that Deerfoot started to do with the grim, unshakable resolution of his nature.

  With all his matchless swiftness and endurance, he would not have been able to travel the distance until the night was well advanced; for, though there were numerous places where he broke into his fleet lope, and more than once rose to a higher pace, he was compelled to make detours that greatly lengthened the distance and added to the labor. Again, a moderate walk was the best he could do.

  About the middle of the afternoon he came upon the bank of a deep, swift stream fully a hundred yards wide. No doubt he could have found a ford had he taken the time to search for it, but the minutes were too valuable to waste. With hardly a moment’s hesitation he took three steps over the flinty floor, and then found he had to swim. He had not so much as loosened the blanket looped about his s
houlders and which threatened to interfere with the movements of his arms. He held his rifle above his head, so as to prevent any water running into the barrel, either at the muzzle or by percolation at the vent, and swam with his other arm and his feet. For a portion of the way he “trod water,” apparently with the same ease that he walked upon solid earth. So he overcame the powerful current and emerged almost directly opposite the point where he had entered. You will remember that in approaching the stream he left the trail some time before, but he knew it was not far off, and doubtless would have led him to a ford. That he would not dally long enough to hunt out the more convenient crossing place was another illustration of Deerfoot’s indifference to his own comfort. What though his garments were dripping when he stepped upon solid earth again, and the air was almost wintry in its chill, he cared naught. The exercise threw his frame into a glow and the moisture gradually left his clothing.

  A few miles farther and the Shawanoe solved one question over which he had been speculating. In the distance he caught sight of a party of horsemen approaching from the direction of the camp whose smoke he had noticed hours before. They were no more than two or three miles distant, and when first seen were coming almost in a direct line for Deerfoot.

  The first sight was that of a single horseman, who had ridden up the farther side of a slope, and came into view as he neared the top. Without pausing, he began the descent, and was followed by others, all in single file, until seventeen rode into the field of vision. Before Deerfoot brought his glass into use he had recognized the horsemen as Nez Perces. They were returning from their expedition, and if the statement of the number that had left home was correct, had lost at least three.

  The spyglass disclosed the chieftain Amokeat to the Shawanoe, who, with his horse on a walk, was riding at the head of the procession. The instrument revealed another significant fact: