CHAPTER XXII
A STRANGER
No boy could feel more chagrin and humiliation than did OttoRelstaub, when he sprang forward, and, seizing what he supposed tobe the stray colt, found instead that he had grasped the stump of atree.
He was speechless for a full minute, and could only stand still andwonder how it was possible for him to make such a blunder. A treeclose to the edge of the clearing had been stricken by lightning,and partly breaking off some three or four feet above ground, acouple of yards of length lay with the top on the earth. In thegloom of the evening it could be readily mistaken for a differentobject, though Otto might well wonder where the resemblance to ahorse could be figured out. But for the neigh which reached theears of the young pioneers, they never would have made the mistake.
Still the fact remained that a short time before a horse was withincall, and Otto was quite sure it was the one he was seeking. Night,however, had fully descended, and it was useless to hunt furtherbefore the morrow.
"Dot ish too bad," he said to himself, "but ishn't I glad dot Jackdidn't come up and sees me, for he vould laugh till he went dead--minegracious!"
It seemed indeed as if the youth had arrived in a strange latitude,for while he remained communing with himself, he caught theunmistakable odor of tobacco-smoke in the air. Some one was smokinga pipe whose fumes were too rank to permit any mistake on his part.
The discovery was startling enough to cause a shiver of fear, for itwas manifest he was close to a stranger, since Jack Carleton did notuse the noxious weed in any form. Otto bitterly reproached himselffor leaving his rifle beyond reach, for his was the situation of theindividual who may not have needed such a weapon often, but when hedid, he wanted it with an emphasis beyond question.
"Dis ish de spot where I doesn't vant to be," was his truthfulconclusion, "so I dinks I goes somewhere else."
He felt a strong yearning to break into a run, but dared not do so.Though filled with fear, his right policy was to conceal allevidence of it. He therefore turned about with the purpose ofwalking off with a dignified air; but he had taken only the firststep, when a shock like that from an electric battery went throughhim, caused by the single exclamation:
"Oof!"
It was the hail of an Indian. Otto was riveted to the spot by thesight of a brawny savage striding toward him. He came from thedarkness of the wood, and, when he moved into the clearing, was justin time to catch the first beams of the moon rising above theforest.
The warrior was large, and his size was magnified by the blanket,which, wrapped like a shawl about him, reached below his knees. Thelong, black hair dangling around his shoulders, was ornamented atthe crown by a number of eagle feathers; but the countenance, whenshown by the moonlight, was devoid of paint, which, it may be said,was not needed to add to its ugliness.
His forehead was low and broad, the eyes small, black and restless,while the cheek-bones were not only protuberant, but were unusuallyfar apart. Instead of the aquiline nose, which is so often afeature of the American Indian, his was as broad as that of theAfrican, badly disfigured by a scar across the bridge, probably madeby a knife or tomahawk.
When it is stated that his mouth was wider than that of Otto, enoughhas been said on that score. In one corner, the warrior held a pipemade of red clay, whose stem was a foot in length. He must havestood placidly puffing this during the entire time the boy wasstealing upon the supposed horse. In the increasing moonlight, thestrong vapor rose in blue puffs from both sides of his face andpoisoned the air above and around him.
The position of the Indian was such that the blanket covered botharms, and Otto could not see whether or not he grasped a riflebeneath.
The entire manner of the red man showed that he knew he was masterof the situation. He could not have felt otherwise, when he saw apartly grown boy standing before him, without any firearms withwhich to defend himself.
"Howdy, brudder?" he asked, in a gruff, guttural voice, extendinghis huge hand to Otto, who dared not refuse it.
"I isb--ish--dot be--ish well," stammered the poor fellow, vainlytrying to speak in a steady voice.
The Indian gave a fervency to his grip of Otto's fingers which madehim wince with pain, though he dared utter no protest.
The act of the warrior in advancing and saluting, caused his blanketto open in front, so as to disclose an untidy sash around his waist.The view was not clear, as the rays of the moon came over hisshoulder, but the lad saw enough to satisfy him that the Indiancarried a tomahawk and hunting-knife. However, as the other handremoved the pipe from between the leathern lips and held it, therewas no instant intention of using either weapon.
It is only justice to the young German to say that, had he possessedhis gun, he would not have permitted the Indian to take his hand.He knew the treacherous character of the race too well to give themthe least advantage; but his belief was that the best, and indeedthe only thing to do, was to avoid, so far as he could, giving anyoffence to his captor.
"Ven he don't be looking at me," was Otto's thought, "then I giveshim the slip, and runs and gots mine gun, and shoots him afore hebando nodings."
The programme was a good one, provided it could be carried out, butit cannot be admitted that it offered much chance of success. Ottowas never fleet of foot, and as his rifle was fully a hundred yardsdistant, there was no way of recovering it except by permission ofthe red man.
"Where brudder's home?" was the query, as he allowed the hand of thelad to fall from his grasp.
Otto felt authorized to answer that question at least truthfully.
"Good ways from dish place--a way off yonder."
The boy meant to locate his home correctly, but when he pointedtoward the north, he unconsciously made a great error. However, itwas unimportant.
The Indian slowly shoved the stem of the pipe in the comer of hisimmense mouth, sent out several pungent puffs towards the face ofOtto, who, accustomed as he was to the sickening odor of hisfather's tobacco, was forced to recoil a step and cough thestrangling vapor from him.
Then the warrior solemnly turned his head and looked behind in thegloomy depths of the wood, as though he expected to see the home ofthe boy. It isn't necessary to say that, if such was hisexpectation, he was disappointed.
When Otto observed the face of his dreaded captor turned away, hewas thrilled by the sudden belief that the chance for which he hadbeen praying had come at last. This was his time to make a suddendash, regain his gun, and become master of the situation.
Was it possible? Beyond question, it was literally life or deathwith the lad. The red man would pursue and show him no mercy. IfOtto failed to reach his rifle in time, a second trial would neverbe given him.
Absurd! he saw there was not an earthly chance of success; he couldonly wait and hope.
Failing to discern the log cabin in which Otto made his home, theIndian turned back his head, swinging it as on a pivot, so that theend of the pipe-stem, which, for the moment, he had been holdingstationary in his hand, resumed its former place in the comer of hismouth.
"Where brudder's gun?"
"I--I don't not have him mit me," was the awkward reply of Otto,nervously anxious to escape saying anything which would give hiscaptor a clue to his property.
The warrior did not press the question, as he might easily havedone, but he smoked his pipe another minute in dignified silence,while Otto stood trembling and wondering how many more breathe hewould be permitted to draw before the savage would leap upon himwith upraised knife.
"Brudder go with Osage chief--he big warrior--oof!"
This was the first announcement the Indian made of his tribe, andthe declaration that he was a chief astonished Otto Relstaub, whoheld no suspicion that he was in the presence of such a dignitary.
But he had been commanded to go with him, and the youth could onlyawait more pointed instructions. The Osage motioned him to turnabout and he did so, hopeful that his captor meant to drive himacross the clearing toward
the spot he and Jack Carleton had fixedupon for their camp. If such was the intention of the chief, itwould be extremely favorable to the lad, but, unfortunately, theopposite course was the one fixed upon.
While Otto's face was away from his master, the latter stalkedaround in his front, where, taking the pipe from his dusky lips, herepeated his order, by means of gesture.
"I vonder if he don't make a top mit me," muttered Otto; "vy don'the tie von string round me and spin me dot way?"
But the boy was not in a situation to refuse, and, when ordered towalk, he did so. While seeking to obey the Osage, Otto unwittinglyturned too far to the right.
"Oof! Dog!" grunted the Indian, catching him by the shoulder andwrenching him part way around; "go--go--go!"
The lad was startled, for the grip was of that violent nature thatit pained him severely. It effectually dissipated his purpose ofmaking a break for liberty, at least until a much more promisingopening presented itself.
He began timidly feeling his way through the darkness, dreadingevery moment that he would take a misstep, that would bring down theanger of the Indian in a more dangerous form than before. He wasenveloped in gloom, so that he kept both hands extended in front toprotect his face.
"I goes as right as I can," he observed, seeking to avert the wrathof the terrible being that was at his heels: "when I doesn't goesright dot ish, 'cause I goes wrong--mine gracious!"
It was only a twig which just then collided with his eye. Itinflicted no injury, and he still pushed forward as obediently as ifit was his father who was driving him. The Indian said nothing, buthe rustled the leaves with his moccasins, as if to prevent the ladforgetting his presence.
Here and there the arrowy moonlight pierced the foliage and affordedOtto a glimpse of his surroundings, but most of the time the gloomwas so dense as to be absolutely impenetrable. Passing across adimly-lit space, he could not avoid turning his head and lookingback at the Osage chief as he stepped into the feeble light.
The figure of the Indian was striking. He was striding slowlyalong, as if impressed with his own importance, his arms foldedbeneath the blanket in front, so as to hold it together and keepthem out of sight. His teeth were still closed on the redpipe-stem, and the blue puffs passed over his head as if it weresteam which was working the machinery of his legs.
The thought which constantly remained with Otto Relstaub, and whichcaused him the keenest suffering, was that the Indian was likely atany moment to leap upon him with uplifted knife. It is a characteristicof the American race that its representatives often add to the distressof their captives by toying with them as a cat does with a mouse beforecrunching it in its jaws.
The lad was almost certain his captor meant to slay him, after firsttorturing him in this manner, but the poor boy could see no possibleway in which to help himself. If the savage should spring upon him,it would be like the leap of the panther-quick, crushing, andresistless in its fury.
With a faint hope that he might be able to do something for himselfwhen the worst should come, Otto stealthily drew out his hunting-knife,and held it tightly grasped. One thing was certain, that, weak andalmost helpless as he was, he would not submit without making a goodfight for himself.
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