CHAPTER XXXIV
In which the Race is not to the Swift
The three Indians of whom we must rid ourselves were approved warriors,fierce as wolves, cunning as foxes, keen-eyed as hawks. They had noreason to doubt us, to dream that we would turn upon them, but fromhabit they watched us, with tomahawk and knife resting lightly in theirbelts.
As for us, we walked slowly, smiled freely, and spoke frankly. Thesunshine streaming down in the spaces where the trees fell away was notbrighter than our mood. Had we not smoked the peace pipe? Were we not onour way home? Diccon, walking behind me, fell into a low-voicedconversation with the savage who strode beside him. It related to thebarter for a dozen otterskins of a gun which he had at Jamestown. Thesavage was to bring the skins to Paspahegh at his earliest convenience,and Diccon would meet him there and give him the gun, provided the peltswere to his liking. As they talked, each, in his mind's eye, saw theother dead before him. The one meant to possess a gun, indeed, but hethought to take it himself from the munition house at Jamestown; theother knew that the otter which died not until this Indian's arrowquivered in its side would live until Doomsday. Yet they discussed thematter gravely, hedging themselves about with provisos, and, the bargainclinched, walked on side by side in the silence of a perfect andall-comprehending amity.
The sun rode higher and higher, gilding the misty green of the buddingtrees, quickening the red maple bloom into fierce scarlet, throwinglances of light down through the pine branches to splinter against thedark earth far below. For an hour it shone; then clouds gathered andshut it from sight. The forest darkened, and the wind arose with ashriek. The young trees cowered before the blast, the strong andvigorous beat their branches together with a groaning sound, the old andworn fell crashing to the earth. Presently the rain rushed down, slantlines of silver tearing through the wood with the sound of the feet ofan army; hail followed, a torrent of ice beating and bruising all tendergreen things to the earth. The wind took the multitudinous sounds,--thecries of frightened birds, the creaking trees, the snap of breakingboughs, the crash of falling giants, the rush of the rain, the drummingof the hail,--enwound them with itself, and made the forest like a greatshell held close to the ear.
There was no house to flee to; so long as we could face the hail westaggered on, heads down, buffeting the wind; but at last, the fury ofthe storm increasing, we were fain to throw ourselves upon the earth, ina little brake, where an overhanging bank somewhat broke the wind. Amighty oak, swaying and groaning above us, might fall and crush us likeeggshells; but if we went on, the like fate might meet us in the way.Broken and withered limbs, driven by the wind, went past us like crookedshadows; it grew darker and darker, and the air was deadly cold.
The three Indians pressed their faces against the ground; they dreamednot of harm from us, but Okee was in the merciless hail and the firstthunder of the year, now pealing through the wood. Suddenly Dicconraised himself upon his elbow, and looked across at me. Our eyes had nosooner met than his hand was at his bosom. The savage nearest him,feeling the movement, as it were, lifted his head from the earth, ofwhich it was so soon to become a part; but if he saw the knife, he sawit too late. The blade, driven down with all the strength of a desperateman, struck home; when it was drawn from its sheath of flesh, thereremained to us but a foe apiece.
In the instant of its descent I had thrown myself upon the Indiannearest me. It was not a time for overniceness. If I could have done so,I would have struck him in the back while he thought no harm; as it was,some subtle instinct warning him, he whirled himself over in time tostrike up my hand and to clench with me. He was very strong, and hisnaked body, wet with rain, slipped like a snake from my hold. Over andover we rolled on the rain-soaked moss and rotted leaves and cold blackearth, the hail blinding us, and the wind shrieking like a thousandwatching demons. He strove to reach the knife within his belt; I, toprevent him, and to strike deep with the knife I yet held.
At last I did so. Blood gushed over my hand and wrist, the clutch uponmy arm relaxed, the head fell back. The dying eyes glared into mine;then the lids shut for ever upon that unquenchable hatred. I staggeredto my feet and turned, to find that Diccon had given account of thethird Indian.
We stood up in the hail and the wind, and looked at the dead men at ourfeet. Then, without speaking, we went our way through the tossingforest, with the hailstones coming thick against us, and the wind astrong hand to push us back. When we came to a little trickling spring,we knelt and washed our hands.
The hail ceased, but the rain fell and the wind blew throughout themorning. We made what speed we could over the boggy earth against thestorm, but we knew that we were measuring miles where we should havemeasured leagues. There was no breath to waste in words, and thought wasa burden quite intolerable; it was enough to stumble on through thepartial light, with a mind as gray and blank as the rain-blurreddistance.
At noon the clouds broke, and an hour later the sunshine was streamingdown from a cloudless heaven, beneath which the forest lay clear beforeus, naught stirring save shy sylvan creatures to whom it mattered not ifred man or white held the land.
Side by side Diccon and I hurried on, not speaking, keeping eye and earopen, proposing with all our will to reach the goal we had set, and toreach it in time, let what might oppose. It was but another forcedmarch; many had we made in our time, through dangers manifold, and hadlived to tell the tale.
There was no leisure in which to play the Indian and cover up ourfootprints as we made them, but when we came to a brook we stepped intothe cold, swift-flowing water, and kept it company for a while. Thebrook flowed between willows, thickly set, already green, andoverarching a yard or more of water. Presently it bent sharply, and weturned with it. Ten yards in front of us the growth of willows ceasedabruptly, the low, steep banks shelved downwards to a grassy level, andthe stream widened into a clear and placid pool, as blue as the skyabove. Crouched upon the grass or standing in the shallow water weresome fifteen or twenty deer. We had come upon them without noise; thewind blew from them to us, and the willows hid us from their sight.There was no alarm, and we stood a moment watching them before we shouldthrow a stone or branch into their midst and scare them from our path.
Suddenly, as we looked, the leader threw up his head, made a spring, andwas off like a dart, across the stream and into the depths of the forestbeyond. The herd followed. A moment, and there were only the troddengrass and the troubled waters; no other sign that aught living hadpassed that way.
"Now what was that for?" muttered Diccon. "I'm thinking we had best nottake to the open just yet."
For answer I parted the willows, and forced myself into the covert,pressing as closely as possible against the bank, and motioning him todo the same. He obeyed, and the thick-clustering gold-green twigs swunginto place again, shutting us in with the black water and the leafy,crumbling bank. From that green dimness we could look out upon the pooland the grass, with small fear that we ourselves would be seen.
Out of the shadow of the trees into the grassy space stepped an Indian;a second followed, a third, a fourth,--one by one they came from thegloom into the sunlight, until we had counted a score or more. They madeno pause, a glance telling them to what were due the trampled grass andthe muddied water. As they crossed the stream one stooped and drank fromhis hand, but they said no word and made no noise. All were paintedblack; a few had face and chest striped with yellow. Their headdresseswere tall and wonderful, their leggings and moccasins fringed with scalplocks; their hatchets glinted in the sunshine, and their quivers werestuck full of arrows. One by one they glided from the stream into thethick woods beyond. We waited until we knew that they were deep in theforest, then crept from the willows and went our way.
"They were Youghtenunds," I said, in the low tones we used when we spokeat all, "and they went to the southward."
"We may thank our stars that they missed our trail," Diccon answered.
We spoke no more, but, leaving the stream, struck again toward the
south. The day wore on, and still we went without pause. Sun and shadeand keen wind, long stretches of pine and open glades, where wequickened our pace to a run, dense woods, snares of leafless vines,swamp and thicket, through which we toiled so slowly that the heart bledat the delay, streams and fallen trees,--on and on we hurried, until thesun sank and the dusk came creeping in upon us.
"We've dined with Duke Humphrey to-day," said Diccon at last; "but if wecan keep this pace, and don't meet any more war parties, or fall foul ofan Indian village, or have to fight the wolves to-night, we'll dine withthe Governor to-morrow. What's that?"
"That" was the report of a musket, and a spent ball had struck me abovethe knee, bruising the flesh beneath the leather of my boot.
We wheeled, and looked in the direction whence had come that unwelcomevisitor. There was naught to be seen. It was dusk in the distance, andthere were thickets too, and fallen logs. Where that ambuscade wasplanted, if one or twenty Indians lurked in the dusk behind the trees,or lay on the further side of those logs, or crouched within a thicket,no mortal man could tell.
"It was a spent ball," I said. "Our best hope is in our heels."
"There are pines beyond, and smooth going," he answered; "but if ever Ithought to run from an Indian!"
Without more ado we started. If we could outstrip that marksman, if wecould even hold our distance until night had fallen, all might yet bewell. A little longer, and even an Indian must fire at random; moreover,we might reach some stream and manage to break our trail. The ground wassmooth before us--too smooth--and slippery with pine needles; the pinesthemselves stood in grim brown rows, and we ran between them lightly andeasily, husbanding our strength. Now and again one or the other lookedbehind, but we saw only the pines and the gathering dusk. Hope wasstrengthening in us, when a second bullet dug into the earth just beyondus.
Diccon swore beneath his breath. "It struck deep," he muttered. "Thedark is slow in coming."
A minute later, as I ran with my head over my shoulder, I saw ourpursuer, dimly, like a deeper shadow in the shadows far down the arcadebehind us. There was but one man,--a tall warrior, strayed aside fromhis band, perhaps, or bound upon a warpath of his own. The musket thathe carried some English fool had sold him for a mess of pottage.
Putting forth all our strength, we ran for our lives, and for the livesof many others. Before us the pine wood sloped down to a deep and widethicket, and beyond the thicket a line of sycamores promised water. Ifwe could reach the thicket, its close embrace would hide us,--then thedarkness and the stream. A third shot, and Diccon staggered slightly.
"For God's sake, not struck, man?" I cried.
"It grazed my arm," he panted. "No harm done. Here's the thicket!"
Into the dense growth we broke, reckless of the blood which the sharptwigs drew from face and hands. The twigs met in a thick roof over ourheads; that was all we cared for, and through the network we saw one ofthe larger stars brighten into being. The thicket was many yards across.When we had gone thirty feet down, we crouched and waited for the dark.If our enemy followed us, he must do so at his peril, with only hisknife for dependence.
One by one the stars swam into sight, until the square of sky above uswas thickly studded. There was no sound, and no living thing could haveentered that thicket without noise. For what seemed an eternity, wewaited; then we rose and broke our way through the bushes to thesycamores, to find that they indeed shadowed a little sluggish stream.
Down this we waded for some distance before taking to dry earth again.Since entering the thicket we had seen and heard nothing suspicious, andwere now fain to conclude that the dark warrior had wearied of thechase, and was gone on his way toward his mates and that larger andsurer quarry which two suns would bring. Certain it is that we saw nomore of him.
The stream flowing to the south, we went with it, hurrying along itsbank, beneath the shadow of great trees, with the stars gleaming downthrough the branches. It was cold and still, and far in the distance weheard wolves hunting. As for me, I felt no weariness. Every sense wassharpened; my feet were light; the keen air was like wine in thedrinking; there was a star low in the south that shone and beckoned.The leagues between my wife and me were few. I saw her standing beneaththe star, with a little purple flower in her hand.
Suddenly, a bend in the stream hiding the star, I became aware thatDiccon was no longer keeping step with me, but had fallen somewhat tothe rear. I turned, and he was leaning heavily, with drooping head,against the trunk of a tree.
"Art so worn as that?" I exclaimed. "Put more heart into thy heels,man!"
He straightened himself and strode on beside me. "I don't know what cameover me for a minute," he answered. "The wolves are loud to-night. Ihope they'll keep to their side of the water."
A stone's-throw farther on, the stream curving to the west, we left it,and found ourselves in a sparsely wooded glade, with a bare and sandysoil beneath our feet, and above, in the western sky, a crescent moon.Again Diccon lagged behind, and presently I heard him groan in thedarkness.
I wheeled. "Diccon!" I cried. "What is the matter?"
Before I could reach him he had sunk to his knees. When I put my handupon his arm and again demanded what ailed him, he tried to laugh, thentried to swear, and ended with another groan. "The ball did graze myarm," he said, "but it went on into my side. I'll just lie here and die,and wish you well at Jamestown. When the red imps come against youthere, and you open fire on them, name a bullet for me."
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