The Ranger; Or, The Fugitives of the Border Part 17

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Pequanon, the white man's friend."

"What did you come nosin' out here fur then?"

Kent's knees were upon the arms of the Indian, while he was seated upon his breast. The hunter loosed his grasp.

"The pale-faced maiden. Pequanon wished to save her."

"Wal, see here, old red-skin, I'm after her. You's sayin' as how you's her friend. Mind to help?"

The Indian answered in the affirmative.

"Wal, I'll let you up, pervidin' you'll go and bring her out. What you say?"

"Is it her friends that wish her?"

"You've hit it there. Goin' to help?"

"Pequanon will lay his life down for the captive."

"I'll let you up then, and give you two minutes to trot her out. If you undertake to come any of your tricks over me, I'll blow your brains out."

Kent permitted Pequanon to arise, who departed silently for the lodge without giving a reply to his remark.

The hunter was not to be deceived by any artifice of the savage, and to guard against treachery, withdrew still further from the lodge. He doubted very much whether the Indian would endeavor to a.s.sist him at all, but he had done the best he could under the circ.u.mstances.

In a moment his doubts were put to flight by the reappearance of the n.o.ble Indian, with Rosalind. As cool and collected as was the hunter, he could not repress a joyous start as he gazed upon her form.

"That's the fust Injin, accordin' to my opine," he muttered to himself, "that ever _was_ a man."

Rosalind, all trembling eagerness and anxiety, on coming up to Kent, seemed unable to speak. The hunter noticed her action and forbore speaking, making a motion, as an apology, for silence. For a second the trio remained motionless and undetermined what course to pursue.

Pequanon noticed this and started toward the river.

"Hold on, cap'n!" said Kent; "there's another chap that come with me."

The hunter now took the lead; and leaving them hopefully pursuing their way, let us glance at Leslie until they arrive.

Chafing, fretting, hoping, fearing and doubting sat Leslie, impatiently awaiting the appearance of Kent. The falling of a leaf, or rustling of the branches under some light breeze startled him; and when a night-bird, that had been resting above him gave utterance to its unearthly hoot, and swooped past, its voice he mistook for the yell of his savage foes, and the flap of its wings for their approaching tread.

Now he pictured the bliss that he hoped to feel; then again he was the prey of most poignant doubts and fears. Would he see her, and clasp her to his bosom, or was she a hopeless captive? Was she living or dead?

Would Kent come back without information or hope? Suddenly there arose a wild, prolonged yell, that fairly froze him with terror. Kent was discovered, and all hope was gone! Oh, the agony of that moment!

Hardly comprehending the state of things, he formed a dozen different plans at once. Now he was going to rush madly forward and rescue Rosalind during the confusion, and then was about shouting for Kent.

All at once he heard a footstep. The pursuers were then at hand!

Resolved to lay one savage low, he rushed forward toward the approaching figure. Could it be possible? Was it not a dream? There she stood before his eyes. His limbs trembled, and he felt upon the point of falling.

"Is this Mr. Leslie?" asked a sweet voice that had thrilled him more than once before.

"I guess it's him or his spook," answered Kent, for him. "If there's goin' to be any huggin' done, hurry up with it, fur they're follerin'

us."

This threw off all reserve. Leslie folded Rosalind to his breast. She spoke not--resisted not--her trembling limbs and sobs told more than words could have done.

"That'll do for the present," interrupted Kent, in a kind tone. "We must be off now, fur the red-skins have smelt the rat, and I should judge by the noise they're makin' that they're in a confounded muss. Never mind, don't cry. When we get down home out of danger, I'll let you hug and cry as much as you please. Which way, Mr. Red-skin?"

Pequanon turned to the left and took long, impatient strides. Kent followed closely in his footsteps, while Leslie led the trembling Rosalind. Often, regardless of the danger which threatened, he pressed her to him and whispered words of which we can only guess the meaning.

On they hurried, half running, over the tangled underwood and fallen trees until they paused upon the brink of the river.

Here, to the surprise and joy of all, Pequanon running to a clump of bushes pulled forth a large canoe and shoved it into the stream. The others needed no admonition to use it.

"Here," said their guide, "we part. May the great Spirit guide you."

"Say, you, you'll get into trouble, won't you, if you go back?" queried Kent.

"The Great Spirit will protect me. Farewell."

"Wait, Pequanon," said Rosalind, rising from her seat.

"Pequanon has only paid his debt to the pale-faced maiden."

The Indian was gone.

Rosalind sunk back upon her seat in tears.

"He's the first Injin that I ever got my clutches on that has got away after it, and the first one that I ever felt like lettin' go. Somehow or other my old gun didn't burn and wriggle when I sot my eyes on him, as it is used to doin' in such cases; and if it wasn't fur that red hide of hisn' I wouldn't believe he was one of them."

All this time the shouts and yells of the savages could be heard, and now and then it seemed to the fugitives that they must have been discovered. Kent pulled the boat to the opposite sh.o.r.e, and as he expressed it, "hugged the bank mighty close." He had little fear of being discovered, but the utmost caution was to be used, for, in their rage, the savages would use every means in their power to recapture them.

Kent knew that by keeping on, he would in time reach the banks of the Ohio. Their enemies would probably suspect the true nature of their escape and take to the river in pursuit; and, as the Indians, in case of discovery, could easily overtake and recapture them, they must necessarily be saved by fortune and stratagem. Though scarce a ripple was heard, the shadowy form of the boat shot swiftly under the hanging trees and round the projecting points of the bank, like some serpent gliding noiselessly over the surface.

Soon the edge of the great moon slowly rose above the dark line of the forest, and its long rays streamed over wood and river; when it had finally risen high up in the heavens, the stream shone as brightly as at noonday. Its winding course could be discerned ahead until it was lost in the forest, and for miles behind, its banks were as clearly defined as it could have been under the sun's rays.

Now that the river and its objects were so plainly depicted, Kent kept closer yet under the shadows of the friendly bank. Now and then he hurried through some opening in the trees of the sh.o.r.e, where, for a minute, he was exposed to any gaze that might chance to be given; then, when the water was shallow, he struck the muddy bottom, and patiently worked himself on again. Being engaged in rowing, his face was turned toward the stern, and thus had a full sweep of the river which he had pa.s.sed over, the only point from which he had reason to apprehend danger.

He was upon the point of speaking, when his quick eye detected a speck in view around a bend in the river, some distance back. He halted, for he knew its character.

"We're follered!" said he, guiding the boat in to sh.o.r.e.

A few minutes more and the boat could be plainly seen by all three. It was in the center of the stream, and approaching rapidly. The heads of four or five Indians could be discerned. Their object was plain to all.

Kent had run his boat against the sh.o.r.e, and the three were now waiting breathlessly for their enemies to pa.s.s.

The Indians plainly had no suspicion that the fugitives were so close at hand, and kept steadily onward. Hardly daring to breathe, our three friends saw the long, sharp canoe, with five of their mortal enemies, shoot past, and disappear.

"Did you see how my gun kept twitchin' and jumpin'? Why, I had all I could do to hold him. Thunder! it's too bad to see them fellers give you such a nice shot and then miss it," said the ranger, again taking the oars.