Ned in the Block-House: A Tale of Early Days in the West

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

  CHAPTER IV.

  THROUGH THE TRACKLESS FOREST--THE CAUSE.

  The compliment to the young Shawanoe, although rudely expressed, wasgenuine, and at once dissipated the latent lightning that was on thepoint of bursting forth.

  The lowering eclipse that overspread the dusky countenance instantlycleared away, and Deerfoot smiled more than before as he turned towardNed Preston to see how he accepted the remark of his servant.

  The young pioneer was pleased, and, slapping the lad on the shoulder,exclaimed heartily--

  "You show your good sense there, Blossom; and after this, when I hearthe folks say you are the stupidest boy in all Kentucky, I will quotewhat you have just said to prove they are mistaken."

  Wildblossom raised his cap and scratched his head, somewhat doubtfulas to how he should accept this remark. While he was considering thematter, Deerfoot and Ned faced each other, and talked concerning moreimportant matters.

  The sun, which had been scarcely visible during the day, was now belowthe horizon, and the shadows of night were creeping through the autumnwoods. The air continued chilly, and moaned among the branches, fromwhich the crisp leaves, turning from bright yellow and flaming crimsonto dull brown, were continually drifting downward. The squirrelswhisked from limb to limb, gathering their winter store of nuts, andchattering their defiance from the highest branches of elm, oak, ash,hickory, chestnut, or maple.

  Now and then feathery particles of snow whirled around them, so lightand downy that they scarcely found their way to the leaves below. Itwas the time of the sad and melancholy days, though the most joyousone to the hunter.

  Ned Preston had been told by Deerfoot that he was the only Indian nearthem, and he was vastly relieved that the danger was found to bescarcely any danger at all.

  As it was becoming colder, and night was closing in, the boy wasanxious to go into camp. He could conceive of no reason why theyshould push forward any further before morning, as he held nosuspicion of the critical condition of affairs.

  But he quickly learned the truth from Deerfoot, who related, in hispointed way, the story of the Wyandots under the fierce war chiefWaughtauk.

  "And they are going to the block-house!" exclaimed the astonished lad.

  The young warrior nodded his head to signify there could be no doubtof the fact.

  "Then we had better turn around and go back to Wild Oaks as quickly aswe can."

  "Deerfoot must hurry to Colonel Preston and tell him of the Wyandots,"said the Shawanoe; "that is Deerfoot's first duty."

  "Of course; I didn't expect you to go with us; we can make our wayhome without help."

  "But your feet wandered from the path only a few hours ago."

  "We were careless, for we felt there was no need of haste," repliedyoung Preston; "that could not happen again, when we know such amistake might work us ill."

  "But that was in the daytime; it is now night."

  Ned felt the force of this fact, but he would not have hesitated tostart on the back trail without a minute's delay.

  "When we found we were going wrong we could stop and wait till therising of the morning sun. I have several letters which you candeliver to my uncle."

  Deerfoot shook his head; he had another course in mind.

  "We will go to the fort; you will hand the letters to the whitesoldier; Deerfoot will show the way."

  "Deerfoot knows best; we will follow in his footsteps."

  The Shawanoe was pleased with the readiness of the young pioneer, who,it must be stated, could not see the wisdom of the decision of theirguide.

  If Waughtauk and his warriors were in the immediate vicinity of theblock-house, the boys must run great risk in an attempt to enter thepost. They could not reach the station ahead of the Wyandots, and itwould be a task of extreme difficulty to open communication withColonel Preston, even though he knew the loyalty of the dusky ally ofthe whites.

  Deerfoot would have a much better prospect of success alone than ifembarrassed by two companions, whom the other Indians would considerin the light of the very game for which they were hunting.

  It seemed to Ned that it would be far more prudent for the youngShawanoe to take the letters and make his way through the tracklessforest, while Ned and Blossom spared no time or effort in returning toWild Oaks.

  But the matchless subtlety and skill of Deerfoot were appreciated byno one more than by young Preston, who unhesitatingly placed himselfunder his charge.

  But cheerfully as the wishes of the Shawanoe were acceded to by thewhite boy, the African lad was anything but satisfied. Of a sluggishtemperament, he disliked severe exertion. He had not only been on thetramp most of the day, but, during the last half hour, had been forcedto an exertion which had tired him out; he therefore objected to atramp that was likely to take the better portion of the night.

  "We'd better start a fire here," said he, "and den in de mornin' we'llbe fresh, and we can run all de way to de Lickin', and get dar 'boutas soon as if we trabel all night and got tired most to def."

  The Shawanoe turned upon him in the dusky twilight, and said--

  "My brother with the face of the night may wait here; Deerfoot and hisfriend will go on alone."

  With which decisive remark he wheeled about, and, facing southwest,strode off toward the block-house on the Licking.

  "Wildblossom aint gwine to stay here, not if he knows hisself, whileyou folks go to your destruction," exclaimed the servant, falling intoline.

  The strange procession was under way at once. Deerfoot, as a matter ofcourse, took the lead, Ned Preston stepping close behind him, whilethe African kept so near his young master that he trod on his heelsmore than once.

  The Shawnee displayed his marvellous woodcraft from the first.Although the ground was thickly strewn with leaves, his soft moccasinstouched them as lightly as do the velvet paws of the tiger whenstealing through the jungle. Ned Preston took extreme care to imitatehim, and partially succeeded, but the large shoes of Blossom Brownrumpled and tumbled the dry vegetation despite every effort to avoidit.

  It was not until reproved by Ned, and the gait was slackened, that, toa certain extent, the noisy rustling was stopped.

  There were no stars nor moon in the sky, there was no beaten path tofollow, and they were not on the bank nor along the watercourse of anystream to guide them; but the dusky leader advanced as unerringly asdoes the bloodhound when trailing the panting fugitive through themarshy swamps and lowlands.

  As the night deepened, Ned saw only dimly the figure of the lithe andgraceful young warrior in front. His shoulders were thrown forward,and his head projected slightly beyond. This was his attitude while onthe trail, and when all his faculties were alert. Eye and ear werestrained to the highest tension, and the faint cry of a bird or theflitting of a shadowy figure among the forest arches would have beendetected on the instant.

  Ned Preston could catch the outlines of the scalp-lock and eaglefeathers, which took on a slightly waving motion in response to thelong, loping tread of the Indian; occasionally he could detect a partof the quiver, fastened back of the shoulder, and the upper portion ofthe long bow, which he carried unstrung in his right hand.

  Then there were moments when the guide was absolutely invisible, andhe moved with such silence that Ned feared he had left themaltogether. But he was there all the time, and the journey through thedesolate woods continued with scarcely an interruption.

  Suddenly Deerfoot came to a halt, giving utterance at the same momentto a sibilant sound as a warning to Ned Preston, who checked himselfwith his chin almost upon the arrow-quiver. It was different withBlossom, who bumped his nose against the shoulders of his young masterwith such violence that Ned put up his hand to check himself fromknocking the guide off his feet.

  Neither Ned nor Blossom had caught the slightest sound, and theywondered what it was that had alarmed Deerfoot.

  No one spoke, but all stood as motionless as the tree trunks besidethem, those behind waiting the pleasure of him who was conductin
g themon this dangerous journey.

  For fully five minutes (which seemed doubly that length) the tableaulasted, during which the listening followers heard only the soughingof the night-wind and the hollow murmur of the great forest, which waslike the voice of silence itself.

  Then the faint rustle of the leaves beneath the moccasins of theShawanoe showed that he was moving forward again, and the othersresumed walking, with all the caution consistent with necessary speed.

  Fully a half mile was passed in this manner, the three advancing likeautomata, with never a whisper or halt. Blossom, although wearied anddispleased, appreciated the situation too well to express hisfeelings, or to attempt anything to which either of the others wouldobject.

  "Dey aint likely to keep dis up for more dan a week," was the thoughtwhich came to him; "and when I make up my mind to it, I can stand itas long as bofe of 'em together."

  However, Blossom had almost reached the protesting point, when heheard the same warning hiss from the Shawanoe, and checked himselfjust in time to avoid a collision with his young master.

  The cause of this stoppage was apparent to all: they stood on the bankof a creek a hundred yards wide, which it was necessary to cross toreach the block-house. It ran into the Licking a number of milessouth, and so far below Fort Bridgman that there was no way of "goinground" it to reach the station.

  It was the custom of the boys, when making the journey between WildOaks and the block-house, to ferry themselves over on a raft whichthey had constructed, and which was used on their return. As they tooka course each time which brought them to the same point on thetributary, this was an easy matter. During the summer they sometimesdoffed their garments, and placing them and their guns on a smallfloat, swam over, pushing their property before them.

  The water was too cold to admit of any such course now, unless drivento it by necessity; and as Deerfoot had brought them to a point on thebank far removed from the usual ferrying place, Ned concluded theywere in an unpleasant predicament, to say the least.

  "How are we going to get across?" he asked, when they had stoodmotionless several minutes looking down on the dim current flowing attheir feet.

  "The creek is not wide; we can swim to the other shore."

  "There is no doubt of that, for I have done it more than once; butthere is snow flying in the air, and it isn't a favorite season withme to go in bathing."

  A slight exclamation escaped the Shawanoe, which was probably meant asan expression of contempt for the effeminacy of his white friend.

  Be that as it may, he said nothing, nor did he, in point of fact, meanto force the two to such a disagreeable experience.

  "Wait till Deerfoot comes back."

  As he uttered these words he moved down the bank, while Blossom Brownthrew himself on the ground, muttering--

  "I would like to wait here all night, and I hope he has gone for somewood to kindle a fire."

  "There is no likelihood of that," explained Ned, "for he is tooanxious to reach the block-house."

  "I tink he is anxiouser dan----_See dat_!"

  At that moment the dip of a paddle was heard, and the lads caught thefaint outlines of a canoe stealing along the stream close to theshore. In it was seated a single warrior, who did not sway his body inthe least as he dipped the paddle first on one side the frail boat andthen on the other.

  "He's arter us!" whispered Blossom, cocking his rifle.

  "Of course he is; it's Deerfoot."

  "I forgot all about dat," said the lad, lowering his piece, with nolittle chagrin.

  Ned Preston now cautiously descended the bank, followed by Blossom,and while the Shawanoe held the craft against the shore, they steppedwithin, Ned placing himself in the bow, while his companion took aseat at the stern.

  Then, while Deerfoot deftly poised himself in the middle, he lightlydipped the ashen paddle alternately on the right and left, sending thecanoe forward as gracefully as a swallow.

  "Whose boat is that?" asked Ned.

  "It belongs to some Pottawatomie," answered the Shawanoe, speakingwith a confidence which showed he held no doubt in the matter, thoughhe might have found it hard to tell his companions the precise meansby which he gained the information.

  Deerfoot, instead of speeding directly across, headed south, as thoughhe meant to follow the stream to its confluence with the Licking.Suspecting he was not aware of his mistake, Blossom deemed it his dutyto remind him of it.

  "You are gwine de wrong way, if you did but know it, Deerfoot; de oderside am ober dar."

  Perhaps the young Shawanoe indulged in a quiet smile; if so, he madeno other sign, but continued down the creek with arrowy swiftness fortwo or three hundred yards, when he began verging toward the othershore.

  Ned Preston made no remark, but alternately peered ahead to discernwhere they were going, and back, that he might admire the grace andskill with which the Indian propelled the light structure.

  All at once, with a sweep of the paddle, the boat was whirled aroundwith such suddenness that Blossom Brown thought they were going toupset and be precipitated into the water. By the time he recoveredhimself the delicate prow touched the shore as lightly as if drawn bya lady's hand.

  Ned instantly stepped out, the others doing the same. When everythingwas removed, Deerfoot stooped over, and, without any apparent effort,raised the canoe from the water.

  "I s'pose he am gwine to take dat along to hold ober our heads when itrains."

  But Blossom was altogether wide of the mark in his theory. TheShawanoe carried it only a few paces, when he placed it under a clumpof bushes, pulled some leaves over it, laying the paddle beneath, andthen once more turned to resume their journey.