The Keepers of the Trail Part 31

A fierce yell arose behind them, a yell full of savagery and triumph.

"They've hit our trail in the moonlight," said Henry, "and as we have no time to dodge or lie in cover, there's nothing to do but run faster."

"An' keep a good lookout to both right an' left," said s.h.i.+f'less Sol.

"They're comin' now from all directions."

The owls now began to hoot in great numbers, and with extraordinary ferocity. The cry made upon Paul's sensitive mind an impression that never could be effaced. He a.s.sociated it with cruelty, savagery and deadly menace. His ear even multiplied and exaggerated the sinister calls. The woods were filled with them, they came from every bush, and the menacing circle was steadily and surely drawing closer.

Henry heard the heavy panting breaths behind him. They were bound to grow weary before long. Even if one were made of steel he could not run on forever. But he recalled that while they could not do so neither could the warriors. His keen ear noted that no cry of the owl came from the point straight ahead, and he concluded therefore that the circle was not yet complete. There was a break in the ring and he meant to drive straight through it.

"Now, boys," he said, "slow up a little to let your breath come back, then we'll make a great burst for it and break through."

Their pace sank almost to a walk, but the beat of their hearts became more nearly regular, and strength came back. Meanwhile the cries of the owls never ceased. They drummed incessantly on the ears of Paul, and made a sort of fury in his brain. It was a species of torture that made him rage more than ever against his pursuers.

They stopped in a clump of cane and watched a single warrior pa.s.s near.

When he was gone they stepped from the cane and began to run at high speed toward the opening in the circle which Henry judged could not be more than a hundred yards away. It was fortunate for them that the forest here contained little undergrowth to impede them.

It was a great burst of speed to make after so long a flight, but the brief rest had helped them greatly, and they spurned the earth behind them. Now the Indian warriors caught sight of them, and rifles flashed in the night. The last owl ceased to hoot, and instead gave forth the war hoop. The forest rang with fierce yells, many antic.i.p.ating a triumph not yet won. Many shots were fired on either flank, and leaves and twigs fell, but the five, bending low, fled on and did not yet reply.

The young leader in those desperate moments was cool enough to see that no shots came from the point straight ahead, making it sure that the opening was still there. He counted, too, on the dusk and the generally poor markmans.h.i.+p of the savages. A single glance backward showed him that none of his comrades was touched. Farther away on either side he saw the leaping forms of the warriors and then the flash of their wild shots. And still his comrades and he were untouched.

"Now, boys," he cried, "let out the last link in the chain!" and the five bounded forward at such speed that the Indians in the dusk could not hit the flying targets, and, still untouched they drove through the opening, and beyond. But the warriors behind them joined in a ma.s.s and came on, yelling in anger and disappointment.

"Now, Sol," said Henry, "we might let 'em have a couple of bullets. The rest of you hold your fire!"

Henry and the s.h.i.+ftless one, wheeling swiftly, fired and hit their targets. A cry of wrath came from the pursuers, but they dropped back out of range, and stayed there awhile. Then they crept closer, until a bullet from Silent Tom gave them a deadly warning to drop back again, which they did with great promptness.

Then the five, summoning all their reserves of strength, sped southward at a rate that was too great for their pursuers. Paul soon heard the owls calling again, but they were at least a half mile behind them, and they no longer oppressed him with that quality of cruelty and certain triumph. Now they only denoted failure and disappointment, and, as his high tension relaxed, he began to laugh.

"Stop it, Paul! Stop it!" said the s.h.i.+ftless one sharply. "It's too soon yet to laugh! When the time comes I'll tell you!"

Paul checked himself, knowing that the laugh was partly hysterical, and closely followed Henry who was now turning toward the west, leading them through rolling country, clothed in the same unbroken forest and undergrowth. It was his idea to find a creek or brook and then wade in it for a long distance to break the trail, the simplest of devices, one used a thousand times with success on the border, and they ran at their utmost speed, in order to be out of sight of even the swiftest warrior when they should come to water.

They pa.s.sed several tiny brooks too small for their purpose, but, in a half-hour, came to one two feet deep, flowing swiftly and with muddy current. Henry uttered a sigh of satisfaction as he stepped into the water, and began to run with the stream. He heard four splashes behind him, as the others stepped in also, and followed.

"As little noise as you can," he said. "There may be a lurking warrior about somewhere."

After the first hundred yards they waded slowly, in order to avoid more splas.h.i.+ng, and, after another hundred, stopped to listen. They heard faint cries from the warriors, but they were very far away, at least a mile, they thought, and the hearts of every one of the five rose with the belief that the Indians had taken the wrong course. But they neglected no precaution, wading in the middle of the brook for a long distance, the water enclosed on either side with a thick and heavy growth of willows and bushes so dense, in truth, that one could not see into the stream without parting the foliage.

"Didn't I tell you we were lucky!" said Henry. "This branch poked itself right across our path at the right moment to help us break our trail."

"Jedgment, Henry! Jedgment!" said the s.h.i.+ftless one. "We knowed that it wuz best fur us to find a branch, an' so we jest run on till we found one."

"It 'pears to me," said Long Jim, "that we're takin' to water a heap.

Always jumpin' into some branch or creek or river an' wadin', I feel myself turnin' to a fish, a great big long catfish sech as you find in the Ohio. Fins are comin' out on my ankles right now."

"An' your face is plum' covered with scales already," said s.h.i.+f'less Sol. "You're sh.o.r.ely a wonder, Jim."

Long Jim involuntarily clapped his hand to his face, and then both laughed.

"At any rate," said Long Jim, "I'll be glad when we take to dry ground ag'in."

But Henry led them a full mile, until he parted the bushes, and stepped out on the west bank. The others followed and all five stood a moment or two on the bank, while the water dripped from their leggings.

"Them fins has done growed on me, sh.o.r.e," whispered Long Jim to s.h.i.+f'less Sol. "Cur'us how water sticks to deerskin."

"How much further do we go, Henry?" asked Paul.

"Far enough to be safe," replied Henry. "I think two or three miles more will put us out of their range. The walking won't be bad, and it will help to dry our leggings."

"Wish I had one o' their hosses to ride on," said s.h.i.+f'less Sol.

"'Twould jest suit me, a lazy man. I guess hosses wuzn't ever used in these parts afore, but I'd ride one like the old knights that Paul talks about, an' you, Long Jim, could hang on to the tail."

"I wouldn't hang on to the tail of n.o.body's hoss, an' least uv all to the tail uv yourn, Sol Hyde."

"You'd hev to, Jim Hart, 'cause you'd be my serf. Knights always had serfs that wuz glad to hang on to the tails o' their hosses, when the knights would let 'em. Wouldn't I look grand, chargin' through the forest on my war hoss, six feet high, me in my best Sunday bra.s.s suit, speckled with gold scales, with my silver spear twenty feet long, an' my great two-handed, gold-hilted sword beside me, an' Long Jim tied to the tail o' my hoss, so he wouldn't git tired an' fall behind, when I wuz chargin' the hull Shawnee tribe?"

"You'll never see that day, Sol Hyde. When we charge the Shawnee tribe I'll be in front, runnin' on these long legs uv mine, an' you'll be 'bout a hundred yards behind, comin' on in a kinder doubtful an'

hesitatin' way."

"Here is good dry ground now," said Henry, "and I don't think we need to go any farther."

They were on a small hilltop, densely covered with trees, and the five gladly threw themselves down among the trunks. They were sure now that they were safe from pursuit, and they felt elation, but they said little. All of them took off their wet leggings and moccasins, and laid them out to dry, while they rested and ate venison.

"I'm gittin' tired, paddlin' 'roun' in wet clothes," said Long Jim, "and I hope them things uv mine will dry fast, 'cause it would be bad to hev to run fur it ag'in, b'ar-footed this time, an' with not much of anythin' on up to your waist."

"But think how much harder on you it would be ef it wuz winter," said the s.h.i.+ftless one. "Ef you hed to break the ice in the branch ez you walked along it, an' then when you come out hed nothin' but the snow to lay down in an' rest, it would be time fur complainin'. Ez Henry says, we're sh.o.r.ely hevin' luck."

"That's true, an' we've found another fine inn to rest an' sleep in.

Ain't this nice solid dry groun'? An' them dead leaves scattered 'bout which we kin rake up fur pillows an' beds, are jest the finest that ever fell. An' them trees are jest ez big an' honest an' friendly ez you could ask, an' the bushes are nice an' well behaved, an' thar sh.o.r.e is plenty of water in the forest fur us to drink. An' we hev a good clean sky overhead. Oh, we couldn't come to a nicer inn than this."

"I'm going to sleep," said Paul. "I'm going to wrap my blanket around the lower half of me, and if the warriors come please wake me in time, so I can put on my leggings before I have to run again."

All soon slept save Henry and Ross, and, after a while, Henry clothed himself fully, everything now being dry, and with a word to Ross, started eastward through the forest. He believed that Blackstaffe, Red Eagle and their party were somewhere in that direction, and he meant to have a look at them. He was thoroughly refreshed by their long rest, and alone he felt able to avoid any danger.

He advanced through the forest, a great flitting figure that pa.s.sed swiftly, and now, that he was the trailer and not the trailed, all of his marvelous faculties were at their zenith. He heard and saw everything, and every odor came to him. The overwhelming sense of freedom, and of a capacity to achieve the impossible, which he often felt when he was alone, fairly poured in upon him. The feeling of success, of conquest, was strong. He and his comrades, so far, had triumphed over every difficulty, and they had been many and great. The omens were propitious and there was the rising wind singing among the leaves the song that was always a chant of victory for him.

He inhaled the odors of the forest, the breath of leaf and flower. They were keen and poignant to him, and then came another odor that did not belong there. It was brought on the edge of the gentle wind, and his nostrils expanded, as he noticed that it was growing stronger and stronger. He knew at once that it was smoke, distant, but smoke undeniably, and that it must come from a campfire. In all probability it was the fire of Blackstaffe, Red Eagle and their band.

He went at once toward the smoke, and gradually the light of a fire appeared among the trees. Approaching cautiously, he saw the correctness of his surmise that it was Blackstaffe, Red Eagle and their band. Most of the warriors were lying down, all save two or three asleep, but the renegade and the chief were talking earnestly. Henry was eager to hear what they were saying, as it might prove of great value to him in the little campaign that he was leading. Since Wyatt and the rest of the band had not had time to come up, they could not yet know that it was the five with whom they had been in battle that night.

He resolved that he would overhear them at all costs, and lying down in the bushes he began to edge himself forward in the slow and difficult manner of which only an accomplished scout is capable. Fortunately the fire was near the edge of a thicket, from which he could hear, but it took him a long time to gain the position he wished, creeping forward, inch by inch, and careful not to make a bush or a leaf rustle.

When he was at last in place, he lay hidden by the foliage and blended with it, where he could easily see the faces of Blackstaffe and Red Eagle, in the firelight, and hear what they said.

CHAPTER XIII