CHAPTER XIII--THE SENECA OUTWITTED
So long as he believed Lone-Elk to be near the clearing, Ree was littlebetter than a prisoner, so far as going to find John Jerome wasconcerned; and as he realized that the Seneca might prolong his stayindefinitely, he turned his thoughts to some plan by which he might berid of the fellow. He had no intention of letting Lone-Elk suspect whatwas in his mind, however. On the contrary, he would endure a great dealrather than give the Indian the satisfaction of knowing how greatly hedesired to be alone.
Sauntering leisurely to the cabin, Kingdom sat in the doorway to eat anddrink, 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 thevicinity, and as he watched through a crack from inside the barn, heseveral times saw the Indian. The unyielding savage was moving uneasilyfrom point to point, but his eyes were turned always in the direction ofthe cabin, and his manner seemed to express a determination to looknowhere 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 asmuch as he. He recalled a rule that good old Captain Bowen had once laiddown for him when he and John were planning their first tripwest--"Don't give up. When you are just about done for and you think youcan't hold out a second longer, just keep your hold the stronger; foryou can depend on it that the other fellow is more or less winded if youare, and you don't know but he is more."
Gaining encouragement in such reflections, Kingdom set his teeth and asmile which was not pleasant to see came to his lips. Very quietly andnaturally, however, he carried a bucket of fresh water up from the riverand went into the cabin and sat down. If he could do nothing else, hewould slip through the barn and get into the woods in the darkness. Hecould lie by in some secluded place until morning and for Lone-Elk tofind him, after he had obtained such a start, would be more than eventhat determined redskin was likely to undertake.
The shadows lengthened. With the thought of slipping away in thedarkness in mind, Kingdom let the fire die down and from loopholesconstantly watched the clearing to make certain the Seneca did notapproach the buildings and so be able to prevent his leaving.
Slowly the gathering darkness deepened. It closed around the little loghouse and stump-dotted open space in the forest's fastnesses. It closedaround Lone-Elk, the Seneca, unrelenting and vigilant. But it closedaround another, too, who watched the cabin on the bluff with patienceand with perseverance quite equal to the Indian's.
When John Jerome awoke from the deep sleep into which he fell beside thelog that protected him not only from the night wind but from sight aswell, if by any chance Indians or others should be passing, he stirreduneasily and at last sat up. A yelp and a sudden rustling of the leavesaccompanied his movement. More startled than frightened, John leaped tohis feet. Two pairs of eyes shone yellowish-green in the darkness, and ahungry growl came from the same direction.
"Scatter, you varmints!" cried the boy, and clubbing his gun, sprangtoward the creatures.
The wolves retreated, but only a few steps. Again John leaped towardthem and this time also sent a heavy, half-rotten limb from the old logflying after them. Made bold by hunger, however, the brutes only growledthe more fiercely.
"Looks as if I'd have to give one of you a little lead," the boyremarked, and calmly sat down on the fallen tree trunk. Still hehesitated to shoot, disliking both to waste the powder and to attractattention toward himself. He was still rather nervous from the shockreceived at the "lick."
"Almost daylight, anyhow," John reflected. "I'll get an early start." Hesat quiet, therefore, calmly eyeing the shining balls which gleamed athim 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 rapidpace, once more on the homeward way and thankful for it.
Before the morning was far advanced Jerome found himself among familiarscenes. With boyish pleasure he greeted each fresh object that herecognized. A gnarled old oak, whose oddly twisted branches he hadnoticed more than once, seemed like an old friend. A tall stub of anash, long since dead, but plainly marked by the claws of bears, waslikewise a friendly landmark and he whispered, "Hello, there, you looknatural!" as he might have done in greeting a fellow creature.
Making rapid progress now, for he hoped Ree would be waiting at thehollow whitewood, the returned explorer arrived in the vicinity of thatrendezvous somewhat before noon. As his custom was, he made a widecircuit to reconnoiter before going to the tree itself, taking everystep with care and keeping eyes wide open in all directions.
John did not expect to see anyone or to find anything unusual in thusspying out "the lay of the land." He never had found the coast otherwisethan clear; still he had no intention of revealing the fine hiding placein the old poplar by lack of reasonable prudence and so walked guardedlyand with every sense alert. Something like a shadow moved among thetrees and bushes a hundred yards ahead. It might be only a bird, or asquirrel or some larger animal, but John sheltered himself behind a treeand looked again more carefully.
"Lone-Elk!"
The name he thought, but did not utter, and the sight of its owner senta thrill through Little Paleface that made him hold his breath. TheIndian was moving through the woods with an easy, natural stealth, solight, so silent, that if he had had the power of making himself all butinvisible it could not have seemed more wonderful.
John's first thought was that the Seneca was looking for him; but hequickly saw that this could not be, for his eyes were turned steadilyand keenly in another direction.
"The lead mine! He is stealing up to the secret lead mine just like aghost!" was the boy's second mental exclamation.
But again John was wrong, as the reader will have guessed. It was uponReturn Kingdom that the Indian had his eyes, and it was fortunate indeedfor Little Paleface that the Seneca was too occupied in that directionto look in any other; for so intensely interested did the lad become inwatching the creature's cat-like movements that he stood fairly in theopen, an object of easy discovery had his presence been suspected.
The temptation came to John to shoot his accuser down. Had he not theright to kill one who at sight would kill him? he asked himself; and ahalf minute later, when he found that it was his bosom friend that theredskin was so secretly pursuing, he was doubly-tempted to make an endof him. One bullet would do it. One bullet would settle this wholemiserable witchcraft business. But how? What good would it do to haveLone-Elk out of the way if it became known that the "witch" was hisslayer?
Then John saw, or thought he saw, that Kingdom knew he was followed. Thewhole 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 assistance hecould, should the actions of the Indian become seriously threatening,John followed after them. He allowed between himself and the Seneca asgreat a distance as was possible, still keeping him in view, but soswift and silent were the fellow's movements that it was a puzzle forthe eye to follow him.
With increasing interest in the mysterious game his friend and theIndian were playing, John did not at once realize that, after one sharpturn he had made, Ree was headed homeward. When he did make thisdiscovery, however, it was only to decide that he would go, too, andthus was presented in the wilderness depths the odd picture of oneperson being unrelentingly trailed by another, who, in turn, was watchedand followed by a third.
But even stranger things the unbounded woods of the early days fulloften witnessed. Stranger dreams have never come to man than were manyof the realities of life in the wilds of the middle west a hundred andodd years ago.
While from one point at the clearing's edge Lone-Elk unceasingly benthis eyes upon the little log house on the bluff, John Jerome didlikewise from another. John, however, had two objects to keep
within hisscrutiny. One, and the most important one, was the Seneca. Still he hadample opportunity to see what Ree was doing, and with particularinterest he watched his chum sit eating and drinking in the doorway.
"And here I am, most starved, within sight of him!" the weary boyreflected. "Just wait till it's dark, you lonely old Elk you, and if youdon't do something then, I will!"
An hour had passed since night closed in. Return Kingdom still watchedfrom loopholes, wondering in vain, looking in vain, to know what theSeneca's nocturnal tactics would be. No sign of the Indian had he seensince darkness shut out the view across the clearing.
What was that noise? Ree started violently. The horses moved as if someone had come in the barn. In another second his ear was at a crack inthe wall between the lean-to stable and the cabin, and he knew thatsomething besides the horses was stealthily moving--yes, moving towardhim; 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 youcome here? Don't you know Lone-Elk is watching the house this veryminute?"
But nevertheless it was with a feeling of much relief and real pleasurethat, when Jerome had whispered back, "Well, I guess I do," Ree told himto creep in through the "cat-hole," while he himself noiselesslydouble-barred the cabin door.
"Why, you had me scared into a catnip fit," said Kingdom, stillwhispering, 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 awayagain, now that I'm here, without making a trail that a blind man couldfollow, I'm blest if I can tell."
"Never mind that now, old chap," was the hopeful answer. "Rest yourselfand I'll see what I can lay hands on for you to eat. I've got a fewthings to tell you after awhile."
"Things to tell, Ree? Cracky, so have I!"
And Lone-Elk, sullen and ugly, determined and relentless, still watchedthe cabin with unremitting perseverance from the deeper shadows of thewoodpile at the clearing's edge.
The Trail of the Seneca Page 13
