CHAPTER XXXI
PURSUER AND PURSUED
When Deerfoot the Shawanoe encountered his enemy in the path andturned over the rifle to him, he knew that his leniency toward hisimplacable foe had not softened his heart in the least. He onlyawaited the opportunity to turn like a rattlesnake on hismagnanimous master, and the youth therefore took particular carethat such opportunity should not be given him.
Deerfoot held his tomahawk tightly grasped and poised, determined tohurl it with resistless and unerring aim on the very first move ofthe warrior against him. He remained as rigid as bronze until theother was a couple of rods distant. Then he noiselessly shoved backthe tomahawk in his girdle, picked up his bow and vanished like ashadow. When the warrior turned, as the reader will recall, he sawno one.
Deerfoot was confident that after such a meeting, the one whom hehad spared would not follow him. He would be glad enough to escapealtogether without arousing the wrath of him who would not showmercy a second time. Nevertheless, the matchless youth sped alongthe path in the gathering gloom, with that swiftness which earnedhim his expressive name while he was yet a mere boy. No man,American or Caucasian, could hold his own against him in hisphenomenal fleetness. He swept through the forest, never pausing,but darting forward like a bird on the wing, that eludes by themarvelous quickness of eye the labyrinth of limbs and obstructionswhich interpose almost every second across his line of flight.
Not until he had sped fully a half mile did slacken in the slightesthis astonishing pace, and then there was not the least quickening ofthe pulse or hastening of the gentle breath. Had chose, he couldhave maintained the same for hours without discomfort or fatigue.
While, in one sense, Deerfoot was fleeing a Shawanoe, he was, in thesame sense, pursue another, in whom his chief interest centered.The night deepened, and the moon, climbing above the tree tops,penetrated the gloomy recesses in few places with its silvery beams.When a mile had been passed, the young warrior paused and listened.
"He cannot follow me when his eyes see no trail," he said tohimself, alluding to the Shawanoe whom he had spared.
It followed as a corollary that the same difficulty confronted himin pursuing his friends and the enemy who clung so close to theirfootprints. He stopped and softly passed his hand over the leafyground. Not the slightest artificial depression was there; he hadlost the trail of the party.
As it was utterly out of the question to learn how far he haddiverged from the path, it was also beyond his power to return toit--that is, so long as the night lasted. The hoof-prints of thehorse were cut so deep in the yielding earth that, with considerabletrouble, he could have traced them among the trees; but even then hewould lack the great help which the scout is generally able tocommand. In following a trail at night, he needs to possess athorough knowledge of the country, so as to reason out the probabledestination of his enemies, and consequently the general route theywill take. More than likely they will aim for some crossing orcamping ground, many miles in advance. The knowledge of the huntermay enable him to take a shorter course and, by putting his horse tohis best, reach of them. About all he does, when engaged in thishot chase, is to take his observations at widely separated points,with a view of learning he is going astray.
It was precisely in this manner that the greatest scout of moderndays, Kit Carson, led a party on the heels of a party of Mexicanhorse-thieves, with his steeds on a fall gallop the night thoroughlyovertook the criminals at daylight, chastised them and recapturedthe stolen property.
Deerfoot was lacking in that one requisite--familiarity with thecountry. He had journeyed up and down the shores of the Mississippi,had visited the settlement further west, and had gain much knowledgeof the southwestern portion of the present State of Missouri; butthis member of our Union occupies an immense area, and years wouldbe needed to enable him to act as guide through every section of it.He had never traveled in many parts, and it will be perceived,therefore, that it was out of his power to theorize in the wonderfullybrilliant manner which often made his successes due to an intuitiveinspiration that at times seemed to hover on the verge of theunknowable sixth sense.
But strange must be the occasion in which Deerfoot would feelcompelled to fold his, arms and say, "I can do no more."
He had stood less than three minutes in the attitude of deepattention, when he emitted a peculiar fluttering whistle, such as atimid night bird sometimes makes from its perch in the up mostbranches, while calling to its mate. It was still trembling on theair, when a response came from a point not far away and to theright. Could any one have seen the face of the youthful Shawanoe,he would have observed a faint but grim smile playing around hismouth.
He had uttered the signal which the Shawanoes rarely used. Whenmembers of their scouts became temporarily lost from each other,while in the immediate neighborhood of an enemy, and it wasnecessary they should locate themselves, they did so by means of thesignal described. They refrained from appealing to it except incases of the utmost urgency, for if used too often it was likely tobecome known to their enemies and its usefulness thus destroyed.
Deerfoot had secured a reply from the Shawanoe for whom he washunting, and thus learned his precise whereabouts. He instantlybegan stealing his way toward him.
The usage among this remarkable tribe of Indians required him torepeat the peculiar cry after hearing it, and the party of thesecond should respond similarly. When the call had been wafted backand forth in this fashion, Shawanoe law forbade its repetition,except after a considerable interval, and then only under the mosturgent necessity.
Deerfoot held his peace, though he knew warrior was awaiting hisanswer. Failing to call the response, the other would conclude thatthe signal was in truth the call of a bird; but to guard against anyerror, he repeated the tremulous whistle, when the stealthy Deerfootwas within a few rods.
The latter could have taken his life with suddenness almost of thelightning bolt, but he had no wish to do so. If Jack Carleton andOtto Relstaub were in danger it would be from this warrior alone,and so long as Deerfoot could keep him "in hand" no such dangerexisted.
In the open forest, where the moonlight penetrated, a shadowy figureassumed shape, and the pursuer recognized it as that of the Indianwhom he was so anxious to find. He had concluded to wait no longer,and was advancing in a blind way along the trail of the lads.
Deerfoot stooped and passed his hand over the ground. One sweep wasenough to, identify the prints of the horse's hoofs, and the moredelicate impressions made by shoes and moccasins. The young Shawanoe,by a careful examination of the trail, did that which will scarcelybe believed: he ascertained that one pair of moccasins went forwardand the other took the opposite course. Consequently, the Shawanoeshad parted company at a point slightly in advance (it could not befar), and the warrior whom he saw must have waited where he waswhile the night was closing in.
A few rods further and a second examination revealed the trail of asingle pair of moccasins, the line of demarcation had been passed.
All this time the elder was pushing among trees, Deerfoot catching aglimpse of him now and then, so as to be able to regulate his ownpace that of his enemy. It was needful also that muchcircumspection should be used, for when one person can trace themovements of another, it follows that the possibilities arereciprocal and the law vice versa obtains. The youth therefore heldresolutely back, and so guarded his movements that he was assuredagainst detection by any glance the warrior might cast behind him.
The trees in front diminished in number and soon ceased altogether.The Shawanoe had reached the edge of a natural opening or clearing.Pausing a moment, he stepped out where the moon shone full upon him,and then halted again. Having the advantage of cover, Deerfootslipped carefully forward, until he stood within a few yards of thered man, who little dreamed of the dreaded one that was within thethrow of a tomahawk.
The elder Indian seemed to be speculating the probable course of theunconscious fugitives. It could not be s
upposed that he was familiarwith the country (since his home was on the other side of theMississippi), but like the majority of mankind when in difficulty, hewas able to form a theory, but unlike that majority, he proved hisfaith in it by his works. Instead of following the footprints, hediverged to the right and coursed along the edge of the clearing,where he was almost entirely concealed by the shadow of the trees.
He had not gone far, when Deerfoot silently emerged from the wood.His keen eye revealed what must have been noticed by the other: onthat spot the boys had stopped with the intention of encamping forthe night. Had they remained, beyond all doubt one or both wouldhave been slain, but from some cause (long since explained to thereader) they passed on.
Deerfoot hurried on with a speed that was almost reckless, for thatmarvelous intuition seemed to whisper that the crisis was near. Hisfriends could not be far off, and the question of safety or dangermust be speedily settled.
Just beyond the clearing, while hastening forward, he caught, theglow of the fire shining through the rents and crevices of the shabbyskin of the Osage wigwam. He heard the of voices within, and a fewseconds later he was peeping through the same orifice that had asimilar purpose for jack Carleton when played the part of eavesdropper.
The Lost Trail Page 31