CHAPTER III
ON THE BANK OF THE MISSISSIPPI
That which reached the ears of Jack Carleton, while he stood in thewoods, silent and listening, was a peculiar swashing noise, whichcontinued a few seconds, followed by the same space of silence--theintervals being as regular as the ticking of a huge pendulum.Accompanying the sound was another, a soft, almost inaudible flow,such as one hears when standing on the bank of a vast stream ofwater.
He knew that both were caused by the sweep of the mighty Mississippiwhich was near at hand. The reason for the first he could notunderstand, but that of the latter was apparent. He had neverlooked upon the Father of Waters, but many a time he had restedalong the Ohio and been lulled to sleep by its musical flow, evenwhile the camp-fires of the hostile red men twinkled on the othershore.
Manifestly nothing could be done by remaining where he was, and, inthe same guarded manner in which he left the trail a half hourbefore, he began picking his way back. Probably he ran greaterpersonal risk in following the beaten path, yet he was controlled bya true hunter's instinct in every movement made.
When he reached the trail, he observed that not only had the nightdescended, but the full moon was shining from an almost uncloudedsky. The trees, crowned with exuberant vegetation, cast deepshadows, like those of the electric light, and only here and theredid the arrowy moonbeams strike the ground, redolent with the odorsof fresh earth and moldering leaves.
"Some of the warriors may be returning or groping along the trail,"was the thought of the youth, who glided silently forward, hissenses on the alert. His misgivings, however, were much less thanwhen watching the two Shawanoes, for with the dense gloom of theforest inclosing him on every hand, he felt that the shelter was notonly secure but was of instant avail.
Less than a furlong was passed, when he caught the shimmering ofwater. A few steps further and he stood for the first time on thebank of the Mississippi.
The youth felt those emotions which must come to every one when heemerges from a vast forest at night and pauses beside one of thegrandest streams of the globe. At that day its real source wasunknown, but Jack, who was unusually well informed for one of hisyears, was aware that it rose somewhere among the snowy mountainsand unexplored regions far to the northward, and that, after itswinding course of hundreds of leagues, during which it received thevolume of many rivers, enormous in themselves, it debouched into thetropical waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
The reflection of the turbid current showed that it was flowingswiftly. The dark line of the forest on the other shore appearedlike a solid wall of blackness, while to the north and south theview ended in the same impenetrable gloom.
Impressed and awed by the scene, the lad saw something which atfirst startled him by its resemblance to a man, standing in theriver, with his feet braced against the bottom and his head andshoulders above the surface. The current seemed to rush against hisbared breast, from which it was cast back and aside, as though flungoff by a granite rock. Then the head bowed forward, as if thestrong man sought to bathe his brain in the cooling waters, that hemight be refreshed against the next shock.
A minute's scrutiny was enough to show Jack that the object was atree, which, rolling into the river at some point, perhaps hundredsof miles above, had grown weary of its journey, and, plunging itsfeet into the muddy bed of the stream, had, refused to go further.The fierce current would lift the head several feet with a splash,but could hold it thus only a part of a minute, when it would dipfor a brief while, to rise again and repeat the action.
The tree was what is known to-day on the Mississippi as a "sawyer,"and which is so dreaded by the steamers and other craft navigatingthe river. Many a boat striking at full speed against them, havehad their hulls pierced as if by a hundred-pound shell, and havegone to the bottom like stone.
It was the sound made by the "sawyer" which had puzzled JackCarleton before he caught sight of the great river. He could notwonder that he had failed to guess the cause of the intermittentswash which reached him through the woods.
"And we must cross that stream," murmured Jack, with half ashudder, as he looked out upon the prodigious volume rushingsouthward like myriads of wild horses; "it seems to me no one canswim to the other shore, nor can a raft or boat be pushed thither."
The plucky boy would not have felt so distrustful and timid had thesun been shining overhead.
"Ish dot you, Jack?"
Young Carleton turned his head as if a war hoop had sounded in hisear. He fairly bounded feet when he recognized his old friend athis elbow. The good-natured German lad was grinning with delight,as he extended his chubby hand and asked:
"How you vos?"
"Why, Otto!" gasped Jack, slapping his palm against that of hisfriend and crushing it as if in a vise. "I am so glad to see you."
"So I vos," was the grinning response; "I'm always glad to shakehands mit myself."
"But," said the other, looking furtively over each shoulder in turn,"let's move away the trail, where we cannot be seen or heard."
The suggestion was a wise one, and acted upon without delay. Thefriends entered the wood, which continued quite open, and trampedsteadily forward with the intention of finding place where theycould start a fire and converse without danger of discovery byenemies.
The hearts of both were too full for hold their peace while stealingforward among the trees.
"Otto," said Jack, "where is the colt?"
"I dinks he's purty near New Orleans as soon as dis time."
Young Carleton looked wonderingly toward friend and asked, "What doyou mean?"
"I don't mean vot I don't say and derefore dinks I mean vot I vos."
"So the colt went into the river? Where were you?"
"Mit de colt and he vos mit me, so we bot vos mit each other. Justfeels of me."
Jack reached out his hand and pinched the clothing of his friend inseveral places. It was saturated.
"Ven I valks, de vater in my shoes squishes up to mine ears--don'tyou hear 'em?"
"Why don't you pour it out?"
"I hef done so, tree time already--I done so again once more."
And, without ado, the young German threw himself forward on hishands and head and kicked his feet with a vigor that sent themoisture in every direction. Indeed the performance was conductedwith so much ardor that one of the shoes flow off with considerableviolence. Otto then reversed himself and assumed the uprightposture.
"Mine gracious," he exclaimed, "where didn't dot shoe of mine went?"
"It just missed my face," replied Jack, with a laugh.
"Dot vos lucky," said Otto, beginning to search for his property.
"Yes; it might have hurt me pretty bad."
"I means it vos lucky for de shoe," added Otto, who, in gropingabout, stumbled at that moment upon the missing article. "Bime byde vater soaks down mine shoes agin and I stands on head and kicksit out."
But Jack Carleton was anxious to learn what had befallen his friendsince their voluntary separation some hours before, and so, whilethey were advancing along the shore, the story was told.
Otto, as he had agreed to do, was riding at a leisurely pace, when,without the least warning, the sharp crack of a rifle broke thestillness of, the woods on his right, and the bullet zipped so closeto his forehead that it literally grazed the skin, leaving a faintmark, which was visible several days afterward.
The lad was never so frightened in all his life. For a minute or sohe was absolutely speechless, during which the horse, alarmed in aless degree than he, broke into a trot. Otto, however, quicklyregained his self-control, and fully realized his danger. He didnot glance behind him nor to the right or left. No investigationwas needed convince him of his peril. He put the horse to a deadrun, first throwing himself forward on his neck so as to offer theleast possible target to his enemies.
Only the single shot was fired, and Jack counted it strange that thereport failed to reach his ears. When the fugitive had gone aconsidera
ble distance, he ventured to look back. He thought he sawseveral Indians, but it was probably fancy, for had they observed hewas leaving them behind (as would have been the case), they surelywould have appealed to their rifles again.
Otto was in such danger from the overhanging limbs, and was sofearful that he was running a gauntlet of Indians, that he kept hishead close to the mane of his steed and scarcely looked to see wherethey were going.
The awakening came like an electric shock, when the terrified horsemade a tremendous plunge straight out into the river. The firstnotice Otto received was the chilling embrace of the waters whichenveloped him to the ears. He held his rifle in his right hand,and, in his desperate efforts to save that, was swept from the backof the animal, which began swimming composedly down stream,carrying saddle, blankets and other valuable articles that werestrapped to him back.
Encumbered with his heavy clothing and his gun, young Otto Relstaubhad all he could do to fight his way back to land. He escapedshipwreck as by a hair's-breadth, from the sawyer which hadattracted the notice of Jack.
"I vos swimming as hard as nefer vos," he explained, "and had justgot in front of the tree, ven as true as I don't live, it bangedright down on top mit me and nearly knocked out my brains out. Igrabbed hold of it, when it raised up and frowed me over its head.Den I gots mad and swims ashore."
Jack laughed, for, though he knew his friend was prone toexaggeration, he could understand that his experience was similar,in many respects, to what he had stated.
"After the shore reaches me," continued Otto, "I turns around free,four times to find where I ain't. I see de colt going down streamas fast as if two Indians was on his back sitting and paddling himmit paddles. I called to him to come back and explained dot hewould cotch him cold if he didn't stay too long in de vater, but hemakes belief he don't hears me, and I bothers him no more."
"There will be trouble at home when your father finds out the coltis lost," said Jack Carleton, who knew how harsh the parent of Ottowas; "it must be he returned to land further down."
"Yes; bimeby he comes ashore."
"Why didn't you recover him?"
"'Cause he swims out on de oder side and he would not wait till Icould go back mit de settlements and got mine frens to come andbuild one boat. I vos gone so long dot it vos night ven I comesback, and ven I sees you I dinks you vos an Indian or maybe someother loafer."
Jack Carleton was about to reply to this remark when both he and hisfriend caught sight the same moment of the star-like twinkle of apoint of light.
While there was nothing specially noteworthy in this, yet both wereimpressed by the fact that the light was not only on the river, butwas serving as a signal to some one standing on the same shore withthem.
The Lost Trail Page 3