The Lost Trail
Page 17
CHAPTER XVII
THE LOUISIANA SHORE
Deerfoot threw himself over the side of the canoe into the river,holding fast to the gunwale with one hand and keeping the boatbetween him and the Indians on shore. With the arm which was free,he swam toward the Louisiana side, towing the craft after him.
While it seemed absolutely necessary that something of the kindshould be done, yet the reader will perceive that the course of theShawanoe was extremely perilous, not only for himself, but for hisfriends whom he was so anxious to benefit. His removal from thecanoe caused it to ride higher, and thereby exposed them to thebullets that were continually skipping about it. Deerfoot himselfwas forced to keep his shoulders at such an elevation that he wasliable to be perforated by some flying missiles, but he increasedthe distance between himself and enemies with greater speed thanwould be supposed.
"I dinks dis ish good style," said Otto to Jack, who moved his headso as to see what he was doing. The sagacious German had gatheredthe three paddles so they were added to that side of the craft whichserved as a partial shield against the shots from the shore. Theimplements were so arranged that the lad felt safe against harm,unless the boat should turn half way round before he couldaccommodate himself to the changed condition of things.
"It is a good idea," said Jack, admiringly, as he hastened to availhimself of the defense; "I don't believe one of their bullets canpierce our shield."
Something cold made itself felt through the clothing of the youngKentuckian, where his hip pressed the bottom of the canoe. Gropingwith his hand he found it was water, which he saw bubbling through abullet-hole that was forced below the surface by the vigor ofDeerfoot's arm. The opposite side of the boat was liftedcorrespondingly high, so that the sunlight shone through.
It will be understood that the conditions prevented the Shawanoefrom towing the boat directly across the Mississippi. The swiftcurrent rendered a diagonal course necessary, and even that couldnot be pushed with enough power to prevent the party drifting downstream.
The red men kept up a desultory fire, but it was less frequent andmanifestly less hopeful than at first. They could not but see thatthe craft was steadily passing beyond range, and the chances ofinflicting injury grew less every moment. Soon the firing ceasedaltogether.
A moment later, the dripping form of Deerfoot flipped over thegunwale again, diffusing moisture in every direction. Without aword, he seized the paddle and plied it with his old-time skill andvigor. He looked keenly toward Kentucky, but saw nothing of hisenemies: they must have concluded to withdraw and bestow theirattention elsewhere.
But, convinced that they were still watching the course of thecanoe, he again rose to his feet, and, circling the paddle over hishead, gave utterance to a number of tantalizing whoops. His enemieshad been outwitted with such cleverness that the youth could notdeny himself the pleasure of expressing his exultation in thatcharacteristic fashion.
When Jack Carleton discovered the water bubbling through thebullet-hole in the side of the canoe, as though it was a tiny springthat had just burst forth, he was afraid it would sink the craft.He inserted the end of his finger to check, in some measure, theflow; but Deerfoot, observing the act, shook his head to signify itwas unnecessary.
"My brothers shall reach land," he said.
"I have no doubt we shall, since you are using the paddle again, buta little while ago it looked as though the land we were going toreach was at the bottom of the river. Deerfoot," added Jack, with asmile, "they have punctured this boat pretty thoroughly. I cannotunderstand how it was we all escaped when the bullets seemed to beeverywhere."
"The Great Spirit turned aside the bullets," said the Shawanoe.
"No he didn't," was the sturdy response of Jack; "I acknowledge Hismercies, which have followed us all the days of our lives, but thatis not the way He works. You know as well as do I, that if yon getin the way of a Shawanoe or Miami rifle, you will be hit unless yonare very quick to get out of the way again; but for all that," theKentuckian hastened to add, noticing a reproving expression on thecountenance of his dusky friend, "my heart overflows with gratitudebecause we have been saved, when there seemed not the first ray ofhope for us. The bullets came near, but none touched us."
"I dinks different," was the unexpected remark of Otto, who,assuming the sitting position, took off his cap, and, after fumblingawhile through his shock of yellow hair, actually found a ball,which he held up between his fingers.
"Vot don't you dinks ob him, eh?" he asked, triumphantly.
The amazed Jack took the object and examined it. No need was thereof doing so; it was a rifle ball beyond question.
"How in the name of all that's wonderful did that get into yourhair?" asked his friend.
"I 'spose he was shot dere, and my head was too hard for it to passthrough, so he stops, don't it?"
The canoe was so close to shore that Deerfoot stopped paddling forthe moment and extended his band for the missile. He simply held itup, glanced at it, and then tossed it back to Otto with the remark:
"The head of my brother is thick like the rock, but the ball was notfired from a gun."
With a bewildered expression, as though some forgotten fact wasbeginning to dawn upon him, Otto laid his cap in his lap and begansearching through his hair with both hands. A moment later, hisface beamed with one of his most expansive smiles, and he showed twomore rifle-bullets that had been fished from the capillary depths.
"Yaw, I forgots him; I puts dem pullets in mine hat yesterday and Idinks dey was lost; dat is looky, ain't it?"
"I don't see anything particularly lucky about it," said Jack, whosuspected that much of the lad's stupidity was assumed. A healthyyoungster never fails to have the organ of mirth well forward indevelopment, and the promptings of Otto's innate love of fun seemedto have little regard for time, place or circumstances.
The American Indian is probably the most melancholy of the fiveraces of men; but even he is not lacking in the element of mirthwhich it is maintained is often displayed by dumb animals.
When Deerfoot heard the explanation of Otto, he did not smile, butwith a grave expression of countenance gave his entire attention tothe paddle in his hand. The German sat with his back toward thefront of the canoe, the other two facing him, the Shawanoe being atthe rear. The shore was only a few rods away, the Mississippi beingmuch less agitated at the side than in the middle.
Without any display of effort, the warrior used the long paddle withall the power he could put forth. Very soon the craft attained aspeed greater than either of the pale faces suspected.
"No," repeated Jack Carleton, "I can't see where there is anyspecial luck in finding the bullets in your hair; I shouldn't besurprised if they had been there for a week. You must use a verycoarse-toothed comb."
"My brother uses no comb at all," suggested Deerfoot, in a solemnvoice, from the rear of the boat, which was speeding like an arrowover the water.
"Now you have struck the truth," laughed Jack.
Otto rose to a stooping position, steadying himself as best hecould, and extended his hand to shake that of the Shawanoe, as proofthat he indorsed his remark. He placed a hand on the shoulder ofthe Kentuckian to steady himself, for he knew that it is a difficultmatter for one to keep his balance in such a delicate structure asan Indian canoe.
"Deerfoot ish not such a pig fool as he don't look to be, somedimesI dinks he knows more nodins dan nopody; den van he h'ists sail inhis canoe and sails off mitout saying nodings to nopody, den I don'tdinks."
Otto Relstaub had reached that point in his remark, when the bow ofthe canoe arrived in Louisiana. It struck the shore with a violencethat started the seams through the entire structure. The author ofall this of course kept his seat, for he had braced himself for theshook. At the same time he caught the shoulder of Jack Carleton, asif to hold him quiet, but it was all pretense on his part. Therewas no "grip" to his fingers, and Jack immediately plunged forward,his head bumping the bottom of th
e boat with a crash.
As for Otto Relstaub, the consequences took away his breath. As hewas trying to stand on his feet, he had a great deal more of fallingto do it than his friend. He did it most thoroughly, sitting downwith such emphasis that the side of the canoe gave way, and hecontinued the act on dry land, being stopped by a small sapling inhis path.
Otto whirled over on his face, and scrambling to his feet, staredaround to learn the extent of the calamity. He gathered up his gunand hat, and then, stooping, passed his hands over the bark andattentively examined it.
"I dinks it ish split a good deal mit my head," he remarked, with agrave countenance.
Meanwhile, Jack Carleton had regained his upright position andshaken himself together. When he saw Otto in an inverted position,he broke into hearty laughter, hastened, no doubt, by the fact thatDeerfoot was shaking from head to foot with mirth. His black eyesglistened with tears, caused by his amusement over the performanceof the German. He was laughing all over, though he gave out not theslightest sound.
As for Jack Carleton, he chuckled and gurgled with a noise like thatof water running out of a bottle, while the main victim of all thismerriment was as solemn as an owl. After rubbing and adjustinghimself, as may be said, he turned slowly about and gazed inquiringlyat his friends in the boat, as if puzzled to understand the cause oftheir emotions.
"Vot ish dot you seem to laugh mit?" he demanded, in an injuredvoice; "I see nodings."
When the others had somewhat recovered from their mirth, Otto beganlaughing with scarcely less heartiness than they showed. The absurdoccurrence seemed slow to impress itself upon his consciousness.
Deerfoot did not allow himself to remain idle many minutes. Thefractured front of the craft being immovably fixed in the bank, heleaned his head over the side and washed the paint from his face.He disliked to disfigure himself in that fashion, though he alwayscarried the stuff with him, to be used in such an emergency as hasbeen described.
The blanket stolen from him had been carried away by one of thewarriors, so that Deerfoot held only the rifle and ammunition in theway of a reprisal; but they were more than sufficient to replace theproperty he had lost, and he had no cause for complaint.
Stepping on solid land again, with the water dripping from hisclothing, the handsome warrior stood erect, and looked at Kentuckyacross the "Father of Waters." Instead of the villages and townswhich now grace the locality, he saw only the lonely woodsstretching north and south until lost to view.
But he knew enemies were there, and the keen vision of the youth wassearching for them. They must have become discouraged over what hadtaken place, for not the first sign of the red men could be discerned.They seemed to have "folded their tents," and stolen off as silentlyas the Arabs.
But far down the Mississippi, a canoe put out from the Kentucky sideand approached the opposite bank. It kept out of sight untilDeerfoot the Shawanoe had withdrawn, and then it advanced with thecare and stealth of the trained Indian on the war-path.
The craft was full of Miamis and Shawanoes, armed to the teeth, andimpelled by the greatest incentive that can inflame the passions ofthe American Indian--revenge.