The Lost Trail

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

  CHAPTER VII

  A SURPRISED FISHERMAN

  It may be said that Deerfoot the Shawanoe never lost his sensesexcepting when slumber stole them away. Young as he was, he hadbeen through some of the most terrific encounters the mind canconceive, and yet, when he stood erect in the full glare of thenoonday sun, not a scratch or scar spoke of those fearful affrays inthe depth of the forest, among the hills and mountains and along theShores of the rivers of Kentucky and Ohio.

  I have said that he was so hated by his own people that he felt hispresence near the settlements to the eastward was more to thedisadvantage than the help of his friends, and that was one of thecauses which led him to bid adieu forever to his friends.

  It has been intimated also that still another reason actuated him,and that reason shall appear in due time.

  When Deerfoot assured Jack Carleton and Otto Relstaub that theymight slumber in peace, he spoke the truth; it has been shown thatnot the first breath of danger touched them during the darkness, andthe morning meal was partaken in the same enjoyable fashion.

  But before the subtle young Shawanoe reached the spot where he lefthis canoe, he was disturbed by discovering the imprint of moccasinsalong shore. They led away from his friends and toward the canoe.A few minutes showed the latter had "received" some visitors sinceits owner left it.

  It was utterly destroyed. The knives and tomahawks of several,warriors had hacked be bark structure to pieces. Even the paddlehad been broken into a half dozen parts. Nothing was left of whichuse could be made, the blanket of the owner of course being absent.

  Deerfoot looked on the wreck with something like dismay, whichspeedily turned to anger. The wantonness of the act roiled hisfeelings and stirred up the "old Indian" in his nature.

  He surveyed the destruction for a minute or two, and then made acareful examination of the signs the perpetrators could not avoidleaving behind them.

  There had been three Indiana engaged in the mischief, and the firstsupposition of Deerfoot was that they were the Shawanoes whom JackCarleton saw the day previous; but a few minutes' study of thefootprints betrayed a certain peculiarity (a slight turning outwardof the left foot so slight, indeed, as almost to be imperceptible),which identified them as Miamis. Deerfoot had noticed the "signmanual" years before, so there was no room for mistake on his part.

  The party had come down from the northward, most likely with otherwarriors, and had stumbled by mere chance upon the partially hiddencanoe. They probably investigated matters enough to learn that itwas in charge of two white persons and one red one--enough tosatisfy them that the single Indian was friendly to the settlers,and therefore one to be despised and harried in every way possible.

  It was that discovery which undoubtedly caused them to destroy theproperty and steal the blanket. They were not enough interested toseek the lives of the others, though it may be they were restrainedby fear from doing so.

  When Deerfoot came back to the boys, he purposely displayed someexcitement in order to amuse them. He quickly explained what he hadlearned, and then, in the most indifferent voice and manner, said"The Miamis shall pay Deerfoot for his canoe."

  "How will you make them do that?" asked Jack, who noticed thepeculiar sparkle which the friends of the warrior always observedwhen his feelings were stirred.

  "I doesn't not believes dot you and dem cannot agrees mit de price,"said Otto; "derefore you sends for me and I tells you what de priceain't, and if dey don't agrees, den I knocks 'em ober de head--don'tit?"

  "Deerfoot will not need his brother," said the Indian, gravely; "buthe asks his brothers to wait till he comes back."

  "We'll do that," said Jack; "that is, as long as there is a prospectof your return. When shall we expect you?"

  "Deerfoot will be with his brothers before the sun reaches yonder."

  He pointed to the place in the sky which the orb would touch aboutthe middle of the afternoon. Then, warning the two to be verycareful, and to keep continual watch against detection, he movedaway, vanishing from sight in the woods behind them, instead ofkeeping close to the shore.

  He wept to the southward until he once more reached the spot whichcontained the remains of his canoe. He spent another minute ingrimly surveying the ruins, and then, glancing down at thefootprints, followed their direction. He had determined to call thescamps to account for the injury done him.

  As they belonged to the Miami tribe, it was quite likely they had aboat with them, though their hunting-grounds were east of theMississippi, and possibly they had other property upon which theoffended Shawanoe meant to levy.

  He followed the trail for nearly a furlong, when it divided; two ofthe warriors turned to the left and went deeper into the woods,while the third continued down stream in the same general directionas before.

  The sagacious Shawanoe suspected the truth; the single Indian hadgone to look after a canoe or something which lay close to theriver, while the others were about to engage in a hunt of so kind.The discovery pleased Deerfoot; for, beside indicating that therewas a boat for him to take it showed that he had but a single redman to meet.

  Within less than a hundred yards this solitary warrior was found. Alarge canoe, evidently belonging to the three warriors, or possiblya larger party, lay against the bank, with one end on the land,while the other projected several yards into the river. In thestern sat an Indian, after the fashion of a civilized man; he wasastride of the end, his moccasins banging over, one on either side,his back toward shore, while he leaned forward and sleepily watcheda fish-line, one end of which rested in his hand, while the otherwas far out in the Mississippi.

  His attitude was as lazy and contented as though he were a whiteman. It looked as if he had chosen the sport while his companionswere off on a hunt that required more effort and exertion.

  Deerfoot stood only a few seconds, when he smiled more fully than hehad done for along time. He saw his opportunity, and he proceededstraightway to "improve" it.

  He stole forward, as quietly as a shadow, until he had gone the fewyards intervening. All that he feared was that the aboriginalfisherman might obtain a bite before the boat was reached. If hecould catch a fish on his bone hook, he would be likely to fling himinto the canoe behind him and to turn himself around.

  From the moment Deerfoot placed eyes on the motionless figure, hefelt he was master of the situation; but, with his usual quickness,he had formed his plan and was desirous of carrying it out in spiritand in letter.

  Reaching the canoe, he laid his long bow on the ground beside it;then, stooping over, he seized the gunwale with both hands and,quickly as the blow of a panther, he jerked the craft slightly morethan a foot further up the bank.

  The result was inevitable. The astonished Miami sprawled forwardfrom his seat and went down into the muddy Mississippi out of sight,doubtless frightening away the fish that was nibbling at his bait.

  "Hooh!" he groaned, ejecting the water from his mouth as he came toview, and following it with an expression much in the nature of anexpletive.

  Only a couple of strokes were needed to bring him into the shallowwater, when he rose to his feet and walked out upon dry land. Up tothat moment he did not know the cause of his mishap, for the authorstooped down on the upper side of the craft; but as the Miamistepped out, Deerfoot rose to his full height, with his keentomahawk grasped in his left hand--that being his best one.

  The dripping warrior, to put it mildly, was astonished, when hefound himself confronted by the stranger. He stood staring andspeechless, while the mouth of Deerfoot again expanded.

  "Does my brother's heart grow weary that he seeks to urge the fishto bite his hook before they are ready?" asked the Shawanoe in theMiami tongue.

  It was all clear to the victim, and, when he understood the trickthat had been played upon him, his anger showed through the paintdaubed on his face.

  "The Shawanoe is a fool," he replied. "His heart is filled with joywhen he acts like a papoose."

  "But he wi
ll now act like a warrior," said Deerfoot, in a sternermanner. "The dogs of the Miamis broke the canoe of the Shawanoe andstole his blanket."

  "The Shawanoe is the friend of the white man," said the other with asneer, though not without some misgiving, for, to use the languageof the West, the young warrior "had the drop on him." He had onlyto make one movement in order to drive the glittering weapon throughthe skull of the Miami, as though it were mere card-board.

  It must be confessed that he looked very much as if such was hisintention.

  "Deerfoot is the friend of the white man," repeated the Shawanoe;"he hoped to paddle them across the great river. The Miami dogshave broken his canoe, so Deerfoot will take their boat."

  The warrior showed that he was astounded by the daring of the youth.Within the canoe lay the blanket of Deerfoot, beside the rifle;powder-horn, and bullet pouch, doubtless owned by the moistfisherman. The latter looked at his property as if he could notbelieve any one would dare molest that; but Deerfoot settled thequestion in his terse fashion.

  "Let the dog of a Miami seat himself on the ground like a squaw, andwatch his Shawanoe master while he takes the canoe and all that itholds."

  The Miami stared at his conqueror as if uncertain whether he hadheard aright. The conqueror enlightened him.

  "The dog of a Miami longs to go to the happy hunting-grounds of hisfathers."

  As he uttered the words, he quickly feinted with the hand graspingthe tomahawk. The warrior made such a sudden start to obey that hismoccasins slipped on the wetter earth, his feet spread apart, asthough he were learning to skate, and he sat down with such a suddenbump that it forced a grunt from him. He hastily scrambled up, and,with a frightened glance over his shoulder, sprang forward and satdown again, though the last time was according to instructions.

  It required all the self-restraint of Deerfoot to suppress his mirthover the ridiculous performance of his captive, if such he may becalled. When, the Miami seated himself with a grotesque effort atdignity, the Shawanoe placed his bow in the front of the canoe andthen shoved the boat into the stream.

  As it shot from the shore, he leaped in, and caught up one of thelong three paddles with which it was navigated. Dipping it beneaththe surface he made one prodigious sweep, which drove the craftswiftly ahead.

  While thus employed the Miami faithfully obeyed orders. He satimmobile and silent, watching the daring young warrior making offnot only with his private property, but with that which belonged toothers.

  The Miami must have thought to himself more than once--"Ah, if mycomrades would only appear at this moment! They would make youchange your tune very soon."

  All at once the warrior uttered a whoop which plainly was meant as asignal to his friends. Instantly Deerfoot laid down his paddle,and, catching up the gun, pointed it at the redskin. The latter, inthe extremity of his terror, turned a somersault backwards, andtumbled and scrambled into the woods, desperately striving to getbeyond sight of the terrible youth who showed such recklessness inhandling weapons.

  No doubt the Miami believed his escape was a narrow one, when, thenext instant, the rifle was discharged and the bullet cut throughthe leaves near his face.

  And so, in truth, his escape was very narrow, but it was just asnarrow as Deerfoot chose to make it. He had not the remotestintention of injuring the Miami.