CHAPTER FOUR.
A DISCOVERY--THE CHASE CONTINUED ON FOOT.
To bound from the depths of despair to the pinnacles of hope is by nomeans an uncommon experience to vigorous youth. When Victor Ravenshawawoke next morning after a profound and refreshing sleep, and looked upthrough the branches at the bright sky, despondency fled, and he feltready for anything. He was early awake, but Peegwish had evidently beenup long before him, for that wrinkled old savage had kindled the fire,and was seated on the other side of it wrapped in his blanket, smoking,and watching the preparation of breakfast. When Victor contemplated hissolemn eyes glaring at a roasting duck, which suggested the idea that hehad been sitting there and glaring all night, he burst into anuncontrollable fit of laughter.
"Come, I say, Vic," said Ian, roused by this from a comfortable nap, "ifyou were a hyena there might be some excuse for you, but being only aman--forgive me, a boy--you ought to have more sense than to disturbyour friends so."
"Oui, yes; dat is troo. Vraiment, it is too bad," growled Rollin,sitting up and stretching himself. "Howsomewhatever, it is time torise. Oui!"
"I should think it was," retorted Victor; "the sun is already up, andyou may be sure that Petawanaquat has tramped some miles this morning.Come, Peegwish, close your eyes a bit for fear they jump out. What haveyou got to give us, eh? Robbiboo, ducks, and--no, is it tea? Well, we_are_ in luck to have fallen in with you."
He rested his head on his hand, and lay looking at the savage with apleased expression, while Rollin rose and went off to cut more firewood.
The robbiboo referred to was a sort of thick soup made of pemmicanboiled with flour. Without loss of time the party applied themselves toit. When appetite was partially appeased Ian propounded the question,What was to be done?
"Follow up the trail as fast as we can," said Victor promptly.
"Dat is bon advise," observed Rollin. "Hand over de duck, Peegvish, an'do try for shut your eyes. If you vould only vink it vould seem morecomfortabler."
Peegwish did not smile, but with deepened gravity passed the duck.
"I'm not so sure of the goodness of the advice," said Ian. "To goscampering into the woods on a chase that may lead us we know not whereor how long, with only a small quantity of provisions and ammunition,and but one gun, may seem energetic and daring, but it may not, perhaps,be wise."
Victor admitted that there was truth in that, and looked perplexed.
"Nevertheless, to give up at this point, and return to the settlementfor supplies," he said, "would be to lose the advantage of our quickstart. How are we to get over the difficulty?"
"Moi, I can you git out of de difficulty," said Rollin, lighting hispipe with a business air. "Dis be de vay. Peegvish et me is out forlong hunt vid much pemmican, poodre an' shote. You make von 'greementvid me et Peegvish. You vill engage me; I vill go vid you. You cantake vat you vill of our tings, and send Peegvish back to de settlementfor tell fat ye bees do."
This plan, after brief but earnest consideration, was adopted. The oldIndian returned to Willow Creek with pencil notes, written on birchbark, to old Samuel Ravenshaw and Angus Macdonald, and the other threeof the party set off at once to renew the chase on foot, with blanketsand food strapped to their backs and guns on their shoulders--for Rollincarried his own fowling-piece, and Victor had borrowed that of Peegwish.
As happened the previous day, they failed several times to find thetrail of the fugitives, but at last Ian discovered it, and they pushedforward with renewed hope. The faint footmarks at first led them deepinto the woods, where it was difficult to force a passage; then thetrail disappeared altogether on the banks of a little stream. But thepursuers were too experienced to be thrown off the scent by such awell-known device as walking up stream in the water. They followed thebrook until they came to the place where Petawanaquat had once morebetaken himself to dry land. It was a well-chosen spot; hard and rockyground, on which only slight impressions could be left, and the wilysavage had taken care to step so as to leave as slight a trail aspossible; but the pursuers had sharp and trained eyes. Ian Macdonald,in particular, having spent much of his time as a hunter before settingup his school, had the eyes of a lynx. He could distinguish marks whenhis companions could see nothing until they were pointed out, andalthough frequently at fault, he never failed to recover the trailsooner or later.
Of course they lost much time, and they knew that Petawanaquat must berapidly increasing the distance between them, but they trusted to histravelling more leisurely when he felt secure from pursuit, and to hisbeing delayed somewhat by Tony, whom it was obvious he had carried forlong distances at a stretch.
For several days the pursuers went on with unflagging perseverance andever-increasing hope, until they at last emerged from the woods, andbegan to traverse the great prairie. Here the trail diverged for aconsiderable distance southward, and then turned sharply to the west, inwhich direction it went in a straight line for many miles, as ifPetawanaquat had made up his mind to cross the Rocky Mountains, andthrow poor Tony into the Pacific!
The travellers saw plenty of game--ducks, geese, plover, prairie-hens,antelopes, etcetera,--on the march, but they were too eager in thepursuit of the savage to be turned aside by smaller game. They merelyshot a few ducks to save their pemmican. At last they came to a pointin the prairie which occasioned them great perplexity of mind anddepression of spirit.
It was on the evening of a bright and beautiful day--one of those daysin which the air seems fresher and the sky bluer, and the sun morebrilliant than usual. They had found, that evening, that the trail ledthem away to the right towards one of the numerous clumps of woodlandwhich rendered that part of the prairie more like a nobleman's park thana wild wilderness.
On entering the bushes they perceived that there was a lakelet embosomedlike a gem in the surrounding trees. Passing through the belt ofwoodland they stood on the margin of the little lake.
"How beautiful!" exclaimed Ian, with a flush of pleasure on his sunburntface. "Just like a bit of Paradise."
"Did you ever see Paradise, that you know so well what it is like?"asked Victor of his unromantic friend.
"Yes, Vic, I've seen it many a time--in imagination."
"Indeed, and what like was it, and what sort of people were there?"
"It was like--let me see--the most glorious scene ever beheld on earth,but more exquisite, and the sun that lighted it was more brilliant byfar than ours."
"Not bad, for an unromantic imagination," said Victor, with muchgravity. "Were there any ducks and geese there?"
"Yes, ducks; plenty of them, but no _geese_; and nobler game--even lionswere there, so tame that little children could lead them."
"Better and better," said Victor; "and what of the people?"
Ian was on the point of saying that they were all--men, women, andchildren--the exact counterparts of Elsie Ravenshaw, but he checkedhimself and said that they were all honest, sincere, kind, gentle,upright, and that there was not a single cynical person there, nor a--
"Hush! what sort of a bird is that?" interrupted Victor, laying his handon Ian's arm and pointing to a small patch of reeds in the lake.
There were so many birds of various kinds gambolling on the surface,that Ian had difficulty in distinguishing the creature referred to. Atlast he perceived it, a curious fat-bodied little bird with a pair ofpreposterously long legs, which stood eyeing its companions as if incontemplative pity.
"I know it not," said Ian; "never saw it before."
"We'll bag it now. Stand back," said Victor, raising his gun.
The above conversation had been carried on in a low tone, for thefriends were still concealed by a bush from the various and numerousbirds which disported themselves on the lake in fancied security andreal felicity.
The crash of Victor's gun sent them screaming over the tree-tops--allsave the fat creature with the long legs, which now lay dead on thewater.
"Go in for it, Rollin, it's not deep, I thin
k," said Victor.
"Troo, but it may be dangeroose for all dat," replied the half-breed,leaning his gun against a tree. "Howsomewhatever I vill try!"
The place turned out, as he had suspected, to be somewhat treacherous,with a floating bottom. Before he had waded half way to the dead birdthe ground began to sink under him. Presently he threw up his arms,went right down, and disappeared.
Both Ian and Victor started forward with the intention of plunging intothe water, but they had not reached the edge when Rollin reappeared,blowing like a grampus. They soon saw that he could swim, and allowedhim to scramble ashore.
This misadventure did not prevent them from making further attempts tosecure the bird, which Victor, having some sort of naturalisticpropensities, was eager to possess. It was on going round the margin ofthe lake for this purpose that they came upon the cause of theperplexities before mentioned. On the other side of a point coveredwith thick bush they came upon the remains of a large Indian camp, whichhad evidently been occupied very recently. Indeed, the ashes of some ofthe fires, Rollin declared, were still warm; but it was probablyRollin's imagination which warmed them. It was found, too, that thetrail of Petawanaquat entered this camp, and was there utterly lost inthe confusion of tracks made everywhere by many feet, both large andsmall.
Here, then, was sufficient ground for anxiety. If the savage had joinedthis band and gone away with it, the pursuers could of course follow himup, but, in the event of their finding him among friends, there seemedlittle or no probability of their being able to rescue the stolen child.On the other hand, if Petawanaquat had left the Indians and continuedhis journey alone, the great difficulty that lay before them was to findhis point of departure from a band which would naturally send outhunters right and left as they marched along.
"It's a blue look-out any way you take it," remarked poor Victor, withan expression worthy of Peegwish on his countenance.
"I vish it vas blue. It is black," said Rollin.
Ian replied to both remarks by saying that, whether black or blue, theymust make the best of it, and set about doing that at once. To do hisdesponding comrades justice, they were quite ready for vigorous actionin any form, notwithstanding their despair.
Accordingly, they followed the broad trail of the Indians into theprairie a short way, and, separating in different directions round itsmargins, carefully examined and followed up the tracks that divergedfrom it for considerable distances, but without discovering the print ofthe little moccasin with Elsie's patch, or the larger footprint ofTony's captor.
"You see, there are so many footprints, some like and some unlike, andthey cross and recross each other to such an extent that it seems to mea hopeless case altogether," said Victor.
"You don't propose to give it up, do you?" asked Ian.
"Give it up!" repeated Victor, almost fiercely. "Give up Tony? NO! notas long as I can walk, or even crawl."
"Ve vill crawl before long, perhaps," said Rollin; "ve may even stopcrawling an' die at last, but ve must not yet give in."
In the strength of this resolve they returned to the lakelet when thesun went down, and encamped there. It is needless to say that theysupped and slept well notwithstanding--or notwithforstanding, as Rollinput it. Rollin was fond of long words, and possessed a few that werehis own private property. Victor had a dream that night. He dreamtthat he caught sight of an Indian on the plains with Tony on hisshoulder; that he gave chase, and almost overtook them, when, to savehimself, the Indian dropped his burden; that he, Victor, seized hisrescued brother in a tight embrace, and burst into tears of joy; thatTony suddenly turned into Petawanaquat, and that, in the sharp revulsionof feeling, he, Victor, seized the nose of the savage and pulled it outto a length of three yards, twisted it round his neck and choked him,thrust his head down into his chest and tied his arms in a knot over it,and, finally, stuffing him into a mud-puddle, jumped upon him andstamped him down. It was an absurd dream, no doubt, but are not dreamsgenerally absurd?
While engaged in the last mentioned humane operation, Victor wasawakened by Ian.
"It's time to be moving," said his comrade with a laugh. "I would haveroused you before, but you seemed to be so busily engaged with somefriend that I hadn't the heart to part you sooner."
The whole of that day they spent in a fruitless effort to detect thefootprints of Petawanaquat, either among the tracks made by the band ofIndians or among those diverging from the main line of march. In sodoing they wandered far from the camp at the lakelet, and even lostsight of each other. The only result was that Ian and Rollin returnedin the evening dispirited and weary, and Victor lost himself.
The ease with which this is done is scarcely comprehensible by those whohave not wandered over an unfamiliar and boundless plain, on which theclumps of trees and shrubs have no very distinctive features.
Victor's comrades, however, were alive to the danger. Not finding himin camp, they at once went out in different directions, fired shotsuntil they heard his answering reply, and at last brought him safely in.
That night again they spent on the margin of the little lake, and overthe camp-fire discussed their future plans. It was finally assumed thatPetawanaquat had joined the Indians, and resolved that they shouldfollow up the trail as fast as they could travel.
This they did during many days without, however, overtaking the Indians.Then the pemmican began to wax low, for in their anxiety to push onthey neglected to hunt. At last, one evening, just as it was growingdark, and while they were looking out for a convenient resting-place,they came on the spot where the Indians had encamped, evidently thenight before, for the embers of their fires were still smoking.
Here, then, they lay down with the pleasing hope, not unmingled withanxiety, that they should overtake the band on the following day.
The Red Man's Revenge: A Tale of The Red River Flood Page 5
