The Trail of the Seneca Part 5

"Even as the Great Spirit knows that Little Paleface did not kill Big Buffalo, so does Lone-Elk know it. He knows it as well as he knows how came that hatchet hidden in the corn," Kingdom answered loudly, and with a tone of solemn certainty that could not escape the Indians' notice. "And I, whom the Delawares call White Fox; I, who have been their friend and enjoyed their friends.h.i.+p in return until Lone-Elk came among you, now call upon all who are here, and all the people of Captain Pipe's town, to witness this statement-that if harm comes to Little Paleface or to me, every Delaware will regret it;-that the Great Spirit hears me when I say that in the end we all shall know by whose hand Big Buffalo was killed, and we shall see that it was not by witchcraft that he died."

"Much talk! A young buck's much big talk!" grunted Lone-Elk contemptuously in English; but that Kingdom's solemn words and manner had much impressed a majority of the Indians the young pioneer himself well knew, and the Seneca must have seen it also. At any rate he started off toward the Delaware town, swinging the blood-stained tomahawk over his shoulder as he went. One by one the others followed.

CHAPTER XII-KINGDOM ALSO MAKES A DISCOVERY

Return Kingdom firmly believed that sooner or later the true cause and manner of Big Buffalo's death must become known. It must be so, he argued within himself. There had been times in history when the innocent had suffered for the guilty, but the saying, "murder will out," had been proved a true one always. Ree pinned his faith to it now. He did not so much as question how the truth would become known. In unseeing confidence he was willing to risk anything on his firm conviction that right must win and would win in the end, however slight the chance might seem.

And it is not too much to say, just here, that in after time it came to pa.s.s that all that Kingdom believed would happen, did happen; still, could he have looked forward to, and have seen the end, as he stood lonesome and nervous in the cabin door when the last of the Indians,-even Fis.h.i.+ng Bird,-had departed, there would have been no more astonished young man in America that night.

Hopeful that Fis.h.i.+ng Bird would come back for a talk with him when the Indians had pa.s.sed into the woods and he could drop behind without his absence being noticed, Kingdom left the door ajar and sat for a long time before the smoldering embers of his fire. It was Sat.u.r.day night, he reflected. There would be no work tomorrow, no hunting, no trapping. He would set off on foot, as if going for a stroll in the woods, and by traveling two sides of a triangle come at last to the old hollow whitewood and there wait for the coming of John. If the latter had made particularly good progress and had not loitered about the "big lick" too long, he should be arriving by early afternoon. Perhaps he had returned even now.

"And I'll wager a pair of boots that he'll be hungry enough, too!" Kingdom said to himself as he concluded his reflections; and being reminded by this that he was hungry, he ate some cold roasted venison, then looked out of the door once more for Fis.h.i.+ng Bird, before creeping into bed.

Believing now that he had not been watched or followed after leaving the Indian town on the day of the council, Return concluded that Lone-Elk was too busy with his own affairs to spend a great deal of time spying about the clearing. Yet when he started from the cabin the following morning he traveled in a direction at right angles with that in which he wished to go, and moved very cautiously. He did not doubt that the Indians were searching for John Jerome, but concerning his own movements he reasoned that he would not be suspected of intending to go far, since he went on foot. And at the worst, if he found himself followed, he could gradually make his way home, leaving the spies no wiser than before.

For a considerable distance Kingdom walked along the old trail to the east as if he were but strolling through the woods. The day was bright and sunny and except for the raw north wind would have been of an ideal Indian summer type. Overhead great flocks of crows were cawing l.u.s.tily. Eddies of the breeze whirled leaves here and there, and all in all there were many sounds abroad to drown the noise of footfalls on the soft mold and the leafy carpet of the forest.

For two miles or more Kingdom followed the irregular course of the eastward trail. Now he would turn abruptly to the north, he thought, and soon be safe from discovery in the unmarked depths of the woods. He paused and listened for a moment before leaving the path.

Hark! The sound of footfalls soft as a cat's, but coming steadily nearer, reached the boy's ears. He was followed.

Quick as the thought which flashed across his brain, and without noise, Kingdom stepped from the beaten trail and crouched behind a little knoll thickly overgrown with low bushes. Now if his pursuer, whoever he might be, would but pa.s.s on, he could effectually throw him off the scent before the latter discovered that his game had left the traveled path and so eluded him.

The breathless interest with which Ree listened to the approach of the stealthy footfalls can more easily be imagined than described. He had little doubt that it was Lone-Elk who was, d.o.g.g.i.ng his movements. But soon he would know for certain. Whoever it was he would pa.s.s within a yard of the knoll and the brush which screened him. Would he go on by, and how far would he be likely to go before discovering that he had missed the course?

The pursuer came quickly forward. His body was bent in an eager att.i.tude of listening and careful watchfulness, as if he would look far ahead despite the brush and trees and the low boughs which shut out his view. A hound, following a scent so faint that he might at any moment lose it, could not have been more intent or more keenly in earnest.

Listening and watching with bated breath, Kingdom saw the fellow approach and steal quickly on. It was Lone-Elk.

Hardly had the Seneca pa.s.sed the spot of Kingdom's concealment, however, than he stopped, and stooping down, placed his ear to the ground. He seemed perplexed and uncertain. For several seconds he intently listened. But at last, still doubtful apparently, but anxious lest he was allowing himself to fall too far behind, he continued on, rather faster than before.

In spite of the danger of his position, Kingdom could scarcely suppress an audible chuckle as he saw Lone-Elk outwitted; but he realized that he "laughs best who laughs last," and without losing an instant in self-congratulation he rose and stepped into the path again. The Seneca had pa.s.sed out of sight. "And so goodbye to you for this time," the boy thought, as he listened carefully and heard nothing, then exerting himself to the utmost to move quietly, he sped back along the path in the direction from which he had come.

For a quarter of a mile Ree continued his flight, then with a sudden broad leap left the path and traveled more moderately toward the north and west. At every step through the unbroken woods he sought to avoid leaving any trail which could be followed. Too cautious and too wise to risk going straight forward to the hollow poplar, although he had every reason to believe he had completely eluded the Seneca, Kingdom loitered here and there and traveled quite a zig-zag course.

By degrees, however, he came to the vicinity he sought and, to a.s.sure himself that he was not now watched, he sat down on a big boulder to rest and listen. As he waited he felt that somehow his sense of satisfaction in having given Lone-Elk the slip was disappearing. Why was it? Had he "counted his chickens before they were hatched," after all? The feeling grew on him that he was not alone, that somewhere near there were eyes which were on him constantly.

It is a dreadful sensation to feel that you are spied upon. Even to imagine that some one is secretly watching every breath you take, gazing intently, as if to read your very thoughts, is painful. To Kingdom, with the conviction growing in his mind that Lone-Elk had picked up his trail and had at no time been far behind him, the feeling was almost enough to unnerve him.

There was one way to determine whether this new trouble was real or imaginary, Kingdom told himself, and soon made use of it. Rising quickly, he started off at a brisk pace, looking neither to right nor left. Then, setting himself to catch the slightest sound, he suddenly stopped. A thrill ran through him. The noise he heard was unmistakable. There was a distinct rustling among the leaves. It stopped an instant after he did.

Ree well knew the wonderful power many of the Indians had for following others in the woods, especially along unbeaten trails, without revealing themselves. He knew, too, that Lone-Elk of all others was most certain to be adept in such practices. To go on to the meeting place agreed upon with John would be, therefore, the height of foolishness.

Twice again Ree stopped to harken for his pursuer's footsteps. Once he was certain be heard them. The other time he was sure he heard nothing; but when he walked back along his own trail a little way, he was conscious of a shadow having moved among the trees in the distance, though he saw nothing more tangible.

Ree's first impulse was to go in pursuit of the Seneca; for he did not question the ident.i.ty of the spy, but thinking better of it, he resolved slowly to change his course so as to go at no time near the old poplar. He would reach the river after a time and, following its banks, eventually return to the cabin. A grievous disappointment it was to give up the meeting with John, but there was no help for it if that young gentleman's scalp was to be kept in safety where nature placed it.

Constant as his own shadow always, Kingdom felt the Seneca's presence steadily near him. He did not need to look around. He did not need to pause or listen. In his heart he knew the redskin was close by, as well as if they were walking side by side. He was getting into the rough and broken country now, just back from the river valley. Soon he would alter his course again to head more directly toward home.

Thus was Ree thinking when in a little gully, nearly bidden by high, precipitous banks, he suddenly beheld the ashes of a campfire and, spread upon a few broad strips of bark, something white and glistening. It couldn't be snow. There had been none. It was salt spread out to dry.

Like a flash the thought came to Ree and with it the certain conviction that John Jerome was just out of sight in the sheltered place below, or gone, perhaps, to keep the appointment at the old poplar.

Instantly Kingdom changed his course. His whole effort now was to keep the Seneca from seeing what he had seen. He dared not run, lest he create suspicion in Lone-Elk's mind; but he quickened his pace and held to a direction which he hoped would result in the Indian, intent only on watching him, cutting off the sharp corner he had turned and so not approaching as near to the edge of the bluff as he had done.

In his thoughts Ree scolded John Jerome sharply. What did the boy mean, anyway, by so exposing himself? What was the drying of a little salt from the "big lick" as compared to his own safety? And at a time when his very life was at stake!

At last the river was reached. Lone-Elk was still coming on behind. There could be no doubt of it. Repeatedly Kingdom had heard the gravel under his feet as the Seneca clambered down the steep banks after him.

What a change his chance discovery of John's camp had caused, Ree thought. A little while ago he was distressed because the Indian was always coming after him. Now he would be worried, indeed, should he find that the fellow had discontinued the pursuit. If the Seneca should give up the chase now it could mean but one thing-that he, too, had seen the camping place and was going there in search of more immediate results than his present labor promised.

A variety of tactics did Ree adopt to keep the pursuing Indian interested in watching him. Often did he pause and pretend to look all about with the greatest caution, and to listen closely, as if he had come at last to the very place which he had set out to reach. Again, he would suddenly hurry forward among the trees, or dart in here or there amidst the bushes, as though trying to escape the observation of anyone who might be near.

Up to the cabin was the game played. Only when the clearing, was reached did it end. Tired, alarmed, and more or less out of spirits, as he reckoned the extent of time wasted-a large part of the day-Kingdom sat down on a shock of corn which the Delawares had upset the night before. As he did so, he caught sight of the Indian for the first time since morning. The Seneca was moving silently from tree to tree, but apparently watching all that the white boy did.

Moved by the grim humor of the long, unavailing chase he had led the redskin, Kingdom called out to the fellow: "Hi, there, Lone-Elk, haven't you had enough of that sort of thing for one day?"

In an instant the savage stepped into the clearing.

"Paleface is a fool," he spoke in English, and raised his rifle menacingly.

"Put up that gun, Lone-Elk, and come sit down here! Come, sit down, and let's talk matters over just by ourselves," Kingdom returned in a friendly tone. The ugly manner of the Indian really alarmed him, but he took this way of concealing the fact; and, moreover, if the Seneca could be persuaded to discuss their differences just between themselves, much might be accomplished.

With a contemptuous "Ugh!" Lone-Elk threw his rifle over his arm again. But instead of accepting Kingdom's invitation, he turned into the woods and was soon gone from sight.

Still Kingdom remained sitting on the bundle of fodder. He was thinking of John Jerome and the camp in the gully near the river. The more he reflected, the more inclined he was to believe that it was not John's camp that he had discovered. How could John have brought salt from the "lick?" He had not had time enough to make any. That he had obtained it of some one whom he found there was possible, but hardly likely. But, on the other hand, if the camp was not John Jerome's, whose in the world was it? Who was spreading salt to dry in the depths of the Ohio wilderness?

CHAPTER XIII-THE SENECA OUTWITTED

So long as he believed Lone-Elk to be near the clearing, Ree was little better than a prisoner, so far as going to find John Jerome was concerned; and as he realized that the Seneca might prolong his stay indefinitely, he turned his thoughts to some plan by which he might be rid of the fellow. He had no intention of letting Lone-Elk suspect what was in his mind, however. On the contrary, he would endure a great deal rather than give the Indian the satisfaction of knowing how greatly he desired to be alone.

Sauntering leisurely to the cabin, Kingdom sat in the doorway to eat and drink, for he was still warm with the vigorous exercise of the forenoon. Then he fed the horses and for a time busied himself about the stable. Constantly was he alert to discover whether Lone-Elk was still in the vicinity, and as he watched through a crack from inside the barn, he several times saw the Indian. The unyielding savage was moving uneasily from point to point, but his eyes were turned always in the direction of the cabin, and his manner seemed to express a determination to look nowhere else for a long time to come.

Surely it was enough to bring despair to anyone, Kingdom told himself. Then the thought came to him that maybe Lone-Elk was despairing quite as much as he. He recalled a rule that good old Captain Bowen had once laid down for him when he and John were planning their first trip west-"Don't give up. When you are just about done for and you think you can't hold out a second longer, just keep your hold the stronger; for you can depend on it that the other fellow is more or less winded if you are, and you don't know but he is more."

Gaining encouragement in such reflections, Kingdom set his teeth and a smile which was not pleasant to see came to his lips. Very quietly and naturally, however, he carried a bucket of fresh water up from the river and went into the cabin and sat down. If he could do nothing else, he would slip through the barn and get into the woods in the darkness. He could lie by in some secluded place until morning and for Lone-Elk to find him, after he had obtained such a start, would be more than even that determined redskin was likely to undertake.

The shadows lengthened. With the thought of slipping away in the darkness in mind, Kingdom let the fire die down and from loopholes constantly watched the clearing to make certain the Seneca did not approach the buildings and so be able to prevent his leaving.

Slowly the gathering darkness deepened. It closed around the little log house and stump-dotted open s.p.a.ce in the forest's fastnesses. It closed around Lone-Elk, the Seneca, unrelenting and vigilant. But it closed around another, too, who watched the cabin on the bluff with patience and with perseverance quite equal to the Indian's.

When John Jerome awoke from the deep sleep into which he fell beside the log that protected him not only from the night wind but from sight as well, if by any chance Indians or others should be pa.s.sing, he stirred uneasily and at last sat up. A yelp and a sudden rustling of the leaves accompanied his movement. More startled than frightened, John leaped to his feet. Two pairs of eyes shone yellowish-green in the darkness, and a hungry growl came from the same direction.

"Scatter, you varmints!" cried the boy, and clubbing his gun, sprang toward the creatures.

The wolves retreated, but only a few steps. Again John leaped toward them and this time also sent a heavy, half-rotten limb from the old log flying after them. Made bold by hunger, however, the brutes only growled the more fiercely.

"Looks as if I'd have to give one of you a little lead," the boy remarked, and calmly sat down on the fallen tree trunk. Still he hesitated to shoot, disliking both to waste the powder and to attract attention toward himself. He was still rather nervous from the shock received at the "lick."

"Almost daylight, anyhow," John reflected. "I'll get an early start." He sat quiet, therefore, calmly eyeing the s.h.i.+ning b.a.l.l.s which gleamed at him until the first peep of light. Even then the wolves lingered near; but, paying little further attention to them, the lad set off at a rapid pace, once more on the homeward way and thankful for it.

Before the morning was far advanced Jerome found himself among familiar scenes. With boyish pleasure he greeted each fresh object that he recognized. A gnarled old oak, whose oddly twisted branches he had noticed more than once, seemed like an old friend. A tall stub of an ash, long since dead, but plainly marked by the claws of bears, was likewise a friendly landmark and he whispered, "h.e.l.lo, there, you look natural!" as he might have done in greeting a fellow creature.

Making rapid progress now, for he hoped Ree would be waiting at the hollow whitewood, the returned explorer arrived in the vicinity of that rendezvous somewhat before noon. As his custom was, he made a wide circuit to reconnoiter before going to the tree itself, taking every step with care and keeping eyes wide open in all directions.

John did not expect to see anyone or to find anything unusual in thus spying out "the lay of the land." He never had found the coast otherwise than clear; still he had no intention of revealing the fine hiding place in the old poplar by lack of reasonable prudence and so walked guardedly and with every sense alert. Something like a shadow moved among the trees and bushes a hundred yards ahead. It might be only a bird, or a squirrel or some larger animal, but John sheltered himself behind a tree and looked again more carefully.

"Lone-Elk!"

The name he thought, but did not utter, and the sight of its owner sent a thrill through Little Paleface that made him hold his breath. The Indian was moving through the woods with an easy, natural stealth, so light, so silent, that if he had had the power of making himself all but invisible it could not have seemed more wonderful.

John's first thought was that the Seneca was looking for him; but he quickly saw that this could not be, for his eyes were turned steadily and keenly in another direction.

"The lead mine! He is stealing up to the secret lead mine just like a ghost!" was the boy's second mental exclamation.

But again John was wrong, as the reader will have guessed. It was upon Return Kingdom that the Indian had his eyes, and it was fortunate indeed for Little Paleface that the Seneca was too occupied in that direction to look in any other; for so intensely interested did the lad become in watching the creature's cat-like movements that he stood fairly in the open, an object of easy discovery had his presence been suspected.

The temptation came to John to shoot his accuser down. Had he not the right to kill one who at sight would kill him? he asked himself; and a half minute later, when he found that it was his bosom friend that the redskin was so secretly pursuing, he was doubly-tempted to make an end of him. One bullet would do it. One bullet would settle this whole miserable witchcraft business. But how? What good would it do to have Lone-Elk out of the way if it became known that the "witch" was his slayer?

Then John saw, or thought he saw, that Kingdom knew he was followed. The whole truth came to him. Ree had set out to go to the whitewood but, being tracked by the Indian, had purposely refrained from going there.

Resolving to keep Lone-Elk in sight to give Kingdom any a.s.sistance he could, should the actions of the Indian become seriously threatening, John followed after them. He allowed between himself and the Seneca as great a distance as was possible, still keeping him in view, but so swift and silent were the fellow's movements that it was a puzzle for the eye to follow him.

With increasing interest in the mysterious game his friend and the Indian were playing, John did not at once realize that, after one sharp turn he had made, Ree was headed homeward. When he did make this discovery, however, it was only to decide that he would go, too, and thus was presented in the wilderness depths the odd picture of one person being unrelentingly trailed by another, who, in turn, was watched and followed by a third.

But even stranger things the unbounded woods of the early days full often witnessed. Stranger dreams have never come to man than were many of the realities of life in the wilds of the middle west a hundred and odd years ago.

While from one point at the clearing's edge Lone-Elk unceasingly bent his eyes upon the little log house on the bluff, John Jerome did likewise from another. John, however, had two objects to keep within his scrutiny. One, and the most important one, was the Seneca. Still he had ample opportunity to see what Ree was doing, and with particular interest he watched his chum sit eating and drinking in the doorway.

"And here I am, most starved, within sight of him!" the weary boy reflected. "Just wait till it's dark, you lonely old Elk you, and if you don't do something then, I will!"

An hour had pa.s.sed since night closed in. Return Kingdom still watched from loopholes, wondering in vain, looking in vain, to know what the Seneca's nocturnal tactics would be. No sign of the Indian had he seen since darkness shut out the view across the clearing.

What was that noise? Ree started violently. The horses moved as if some one had come in the barn. In another second his ear was at a crack in the wall between the lean-to stable and the cabin, and he knew that something besides the horses was stealthily moving-yes, moving toward him; he heard it plainly now. What could that miserable, sneaking, malicious Indian be up to now! And then a whisper- "Oh, Ree!"

"Blessed stars, John!" was the startled, whispered answer. "How did you come here? Don't you know Lone-Elk is watching the house this very minute?"

But nevertheless it was with a feeling of much relief and real pleasure that, when Jerome had whispered back, "Well, I guess I do," Ree told him to creep in through the "cat-hole," while he himself noiselessly double-barred the cabin door.

"Why, you had me scared into a catnip fit," said Kingdom, still whispering, as he felt about in the darkness for John's hand.

"Did I? But say, do you know it's snowing? And how I'm to get away again, now that I'm here, without making a trail that a blind man could follow, I'm blest if I can tell."

"Never mind that now, old chap," was the hopeful answer. "Rest yourself and I'll see what I can lay hands on for you to eat. I've got a few things to tell you after awhile."

"Things to tell, Ree? Cracky, so have I!"

And Lone-Elk, sullen and ugly, determined and relentless, still watched the cabin with unremitting perseverance from the deeper shadows of the woodpile at the clearing's edge.

CHAPTER XIV-THE MYSTERIOUS CAMP IN THE GULLY

"Honestly, my neck's out of joint, looking around trees all day," John declared. But he was so light-hearted, so glad to be home again, that he fairly giggled as he spoke.

"Faith! I'm glad you're here, unhealthy as it is for you," Kingdom answered. "What with Lone-Elk always just over my shoulder, and now with the snow on the ground, I don't know how I'd ever have managed to get to you in the woods!" And so the boys fell to telling each other all that each had been doing and all that had happened since their last meeting.

Kingdom showed the greatest interest in the discovery of the bodies of the two men whom John had found dead under the brush heap at the salt springs. He inquired for every shred of information possible for John to give him, and tried his best to determine whether the murder had been committed by Indians or white men. If it was done by white persons, he declared, the slayer or slayers had at any rate tried to make it appear that Indians were the guilty ones. The carrying off the scalps of the dead and removing all valuables from the bodies indicated this.

"Still, I don't see what it signifies, or how it makes any great difference to us, one way or another," said John, as Ree intimated that he would have looked into the matter more thoroughly had it been he who made the discovery.

"Why, of course you do, John! Just think a minute! I've told you about seeing that camp in the little hollow and the salt spread out to dry. Now, then, where did that salt come from if not from the big 'lick'? You mark my word that when we find out whose camping place that is, or was, we will know pretty well who did that killing. What we ought to do is to carry the whole story to Wayne's men or to Fort Pitt; but it wouldn't do any good to go there merely telling that we had found a couple of men dead. Persons are found dead along the border, somewhere, every day in the year. But if we could go to Wayne, or anyone else, and show them that the murderers were white robbers, and not simply sneaking redskins, there would be more of a chance to call somebody to account."

"That's so," John answered rather thoughtfully, yet in a way which showed Ree that he did not quite understand.

"Why, certainly!" Kingdom exclaimed somewhat warmly. "If the camp I saw was the camp of the murderers, who is it likely that they are? Britis.h.!.+ That's what! British from Detroit, over in this part of the woods for no good purpose-spying around Fort Pitt or stirring the Indians up to hostilities! And that camp I saw was a white man's camp! Indians don't care much about salt to begin with, and in the second place what white men would be traveling in this direction and carrying salt with them but some one headed for Detroit or some other settlement off that way?"

But having reached a conclusion that Indians, and no one else, were responsible for the two dead bodies beneath the brush pile, John could not easily get the notion out of his mind, and his interest in Kingdom's speculations was therefore much less than ordinarily it would have been.

On the other hand Ree pieced together every sc.r.a.p of evidence he could find-the stained glove that John had picked up, the indications he noticed that others had journeyed toward the "lick" from the west, and the certainty his own find presented that some one had lately obtained salt, presumably from the springs, in quite considerable quant.i.ties.

Extremely tired and too drowsy, now that he was in the midst of warmth and comfort again, to think much of the danger of his position, John fell into a doze on his bunk while Kingdom still pondered upon the salt springs mystery. In the darkness Ree did not at once notice that Jerome was asleep. Later he made the discovery and it was quite like him that he covered his friend over with a bearskin, and set himself to watch till daybreak.

It was fairly light when John awoke. Ree had already been out and the tracks he found showed that Lone-Elk had abandoned his watch. He had gone some time after it stopped snowing in the night, but there was no knowing when he might return.

Although the fact did not occur to either of the two boys at the time, the coming of the snow was, under the circ.u.mstances, a blessing in disguise. For the Seneca, after watching vigilantly until nearly morning, and feeling confident that no one except Kingdom had entered the cabin, was equally sure that no one would do so now that the snow would at once reveal the trail. With this thought in mind he had quit his post and, so far as his own trail showed, had returned again to the town beside the lake.