The Forest Runners: A Story of the Great War Trail in Early Kentucky

by Joseph A. Altsheler

  CHAPTER XI

  A SUDDEN MEETING

  Paul and queer, long Jim Hart spent a week together on the island, andthey were pleasant days to the boy. He was sure that Henry, Ross, and Solcould take care of themselves, and he felt little anxiety about them. Heand Hart stayed well in the woods in the day, and they fished and huntedat night. Hart killed another deer, this time swimming in the water, butthey easily made salvage of the body and took it to land. They also shot abear in the edge of the woods, near the south end of the lake, and Hartquickly tanned both deerskins and the bearskin in a rude fashion. He saidthey would need them as covers at night, and as the weather turned alittle colder, Paul found that he could use one of the skins quitecomfortably.

  They built of sticks and brushwood a crude sort of lean-to against one ofthe stony sides that enclosed the cove, and when a rain came they wereable to keep quite dry within its shelter. They also found rabbits on theisland, some of which they killed, and thus added further to theirlarder. These labors of house-building and housekeeping kept them busy,and Paul was surprised to find how well content he had become. Hart didall the cooking, but Paul made amends in other directions, and at night,when they were not fishing or hunting, they would sit by the little fireand talk. Once about the noon hour they saw a smoke far to the south, andboth regarded it speculatively.

  "Think likely it's an Injun huntin' party," said Jim Hart, "an' they don'tdream o' any white men bein' about. That's why they are so careless abouttheir fire, because the different tribes o' these parts are all at peacewith one another."

  "How far away would you say that smoke is?" asked Paul.

  "Three or four miles, anyway, an' I'm pow'ful glad this is a hauntedislan', so they won't come over here."

  "So am I," said Paul devoutly.

  He lay on his back on the soft turf, and watched the smoke rising away ina thin spire into the heavens. He could picture to himself the savageparty as it sat about the fire, and it gave him a remarkable feeling ofcomfort and safety to know that he was so well protected by the ghoststhat haunted the little island.

  The smoke rose there all the morning, but Paul ceased by and by to pay anyattention to it, although he and Jim Hart kept well within the cove,busying themselves with additions to their lean-to. Paul had found greatstrips of bark shed by the trees, and he used these to patch the roof.More pieces were used for the floor, and, with the bearskin spread overthem, it was quite dry and snug. Then he stood off and regarded it with acritical and approving eye.

  "You haven't seen a better house than that lately, have you, Jim?" hesaid, in a tone of pride.

  "Considerin' the fact that I ain't seen any other uv any kind in a longtime, I kin truthfully say I haven't," replied Jim Hart sardonically.

  "You lack appreciation, Jim," said Paul. "Besides, your imagination isdeficient. Why don't you look at this hut of ours and imagine that it is amagnificent stone castle?"

  Jim Hart gazed wonderingly at the boy.

  "Paul," he said, "you always wuz a puzzle to me. I can't see nomagnificent stone castle--jest a bark an' brush hut."

  Paul shook his head reprovingly.

  "I am sorry for you, Jim," he said. "I not only see a magnificent stonecastle, but I see a splendid town over there on the mainland."

  "You talk plumb foolish, Paul," said Jim Hart.

  "They are all coming," said Paul.

  But Jim Hart continued to see only the bark and brush hut on the island,and the vast and unbroken wilderness on the mainland. His eyes roved back,from the mainland to the hut.

  "Now, ef I had an ax an' a saw," he said regretfully, "I could make thatlook like somethin'. I'm a good cook, ef I do say it, Paul, but I'd liketo be a fust-class carpenter. Thar ain't no chance, though, out here, wharthar ain't nothin' much but cabins, an' every man builds his own hisself."

  "Never mind, Jim," said Paul, "your time will come; and if it doesn't cometo you, it will come to your sons."

  "Paul, you're talkin' foolisher than ever," said Jim indignantly. "Youknow that I ain't a married man, an' that I ain't got no sons."

  Paul only smiled. Again he was dreaming, looking far into the future.

  The spire of smoke was still on the horizon line when the twilight came,but the next morning it was gone, and they did not see it again. Severaldays more passed in peace and contentment, and, desiring to secure moregame, Paul and Hart took out the canoe one evening and rowed to themainland.

  They watched a while about the mouth of the brook, the favorite drinkingplace of the wild animals, but they saw nothing. It seemed likely to Paulthat a warning had been sent to all the tenants of the forest not to drinkthere any more, as it was a dangerous place, and he expressed a desire togo farther into the forest.

  "All right, Paul," said Jim Hart, "but you kain't be too keerful. Don'tgit lost out thar in the woods, an' don't furgit your way back to thisspot. I'll wait right here in the boat and watch fur a deer. One may comeyet."

  Paul took his rifle and entered the woods. It was his idea that he mightfind game farther up the little stream, and he followed its course, takingcare to make no noise. It was a fine moonlight night, and, keeping wellwithin the shadow of the trees, he carefully watched the brook. He was somuch absorbed in his task that he forgot the passage of time, and did notnotice how far he had gone.

  Paul had acquired much skill as a hunter, and he was learning to observethe signs of the forest; but he did not hear a light step behind him,although he _did_ feel himself seized in a powerful grasp. This particularwarrior was a Miami, and he may have been impelled by pride--that is, adesire to take a white youth alive, or at least hold him until hiscomrades, who were near, could come and secure him. To this circumstance,and to a fortunate slip of the savage, the boy undoubtedly owed his life.

  Paul was strong, and the grasp of the Indian was like the touch of fire tohim. He made a sudden convulsive effort, far greater than his naturalphysical powers, and the arms of the warrior were torn loose. Bothstaggered, each away from the other, and while they were yet too close forPaul to use his rifle, he did, under impulse, what the white man oftendoes, the red man never. His clenched fist shot out like lightning, andcaught the savage on the point of the jaw.

  The Miami hit the earth with a thud, and lay there stunned. Paul turnedand ran with all his might, and as he ran he heard the war cry behind him,and then the pattering of feet. But he heard no shots. He judged that thedistance and the darkness kept the savages from firing, and he thanked Godfor the night.

  He had sufficient presence of mind to remember the stream, and he keptclosely to its course as he ran back swiftly toward the canoe.

  "Up, Jim, up! The warriors have come!" he shouted, as he ran.

  But Jim Hart, an awkward bean pole of a lion-hearted man, was alreadycoming to meet him, and fired past him at a dusky, dancing figure thatpursued. The death yell followed, the pursuit wavered for a moment, andthen Jim Hart, turning, ran with Paul to the canoe, into which both leapedat the same time. But Hart promptly undoubled himself, seized the paddle,and with one mighty shove sent the boat out into the lake. Paul graspedthe other paddle, and bent to the same task. Their rifles lay at theirfeet.

  "Bend low, Paul," said Jim Hart. "We're still within range of the shore."

  Paul almost lay down in the canoe, but he never ceased to make long,frantic sweeps with the paddle, and he was glad to see the water flashingbehind him. Then he heard a great yell of rage and the crackle of rifles,and bullets spattered the surface of the lake about them. One chipped asplinter from the edge of the canoe and whistled by Paul's ear, singing,as it passed, "Look out! Look out!" But Paul's only reply was to use hispaddle faster, and yet faster.

  The boy did not notice that Jim Hart had turned the course of the canoe,and that they were running northward, about midway between the island andthe mainland; but the rifle fire ceased presently, and Jim Hart said tohim:

  "You can take it easier now, Paul. We're out uv range, though not uvsight."

  Paul strai
ghtened up, laid his paddle in the boat, and gasped for breath.

  "Look over thar, Paul, ef you want to see a pleasant scene," said Jim Hartcalmly.

  Paul's gaze followed the long man's pointing finger, and he saw at leasttwenty warriors gathered on the bank, and regarding them now in deadsilence.

  "Mad!" said Jim Hart. "Mad clean through!"

  "They've chased us on land, and now they are chasing us on water. I wonderwhere they will chase us next," said Paul.

  "Not through the air, 'cause they can't fly, nor kin we," said Jim Hartsagely.

  Paul looked back again at the ferocious band gathered on the shore, and,while he could not see their faces at the distance, he could imagine theevil passions pictured there. As he gazed the band broke up, and many ofthem came running along the shore. Then Paul noticed that the prow oftheir canoe was not turned toward the island, but was bearing steadilytoward the north end of the lake, leaving the island well to the left. Heglanced at Jim Hart, and the long man laughed low, but with deepsatisfaction.

  "Don't you see, Paul," he said, "that we kain't go to the islan' an' showto them that we've been livin' thar? That might wipe out all the spell uvthe place. We got to let 'em think we're 'fraid uv it, too, an' that wedassent land thar. We'll paddle up to the head uv the lake, come down onthe other side, an' then, when it's atween us an' them, we'll come acrossto our islan'."

  They were still abreast of the island, and yet midway between it and themainland. Paul saw the Indians running along the shore, and now and thentaking a shot at the canoe. But the bullets always fell short.

  "Foolish! Plumb foolish," said Jim Hart, "a-wastin' good powder an' goodlead in sech a fashion!"

  "That one struck nearer," said Paul, as a little jet of water spurted upin the lake. "Keep her off, Jim. A bullet that is not wasted might comealong directly."

  Hart sheered the boat off a little toward the island, and then took a longlook at a warrior who had reached a projecting point of land.

  "That thar feller looks like a chief," he said, "an' I kain't say that hislooks please me a-tall, a-tall. I don't like the set uv his figger onelittle bit."

  "What difference does it make?" said Paul. "You can't change it."

  "Wa'al, now, I was a-thinkin' that maybe I could," drawled Jim Hart."Hold the boat steady, Paul."

  He laid down his paddle and took up his rifle, which he had reloaded.

  "Them Injuns have guns, but they are not generally ez good ez ours," hesaid. "They don't carry ez fur. Now jest watch me change the set uv thatsavage's figger. I wouldn't do it, but he's just a-pinin' fur our bloodan' the hair on top uv our heads."

  Up went the long Kentucky rifle, and the moonlight fell clearly along itspolished barrel. Then came the flash, the spurt of smoke, the reportechoing among the hills about the lake, and the chief fell forward withhis face in the water. A yell of rage arose from the others, and againbullets pattered on the surface of the lake, but all fell short. Jim Hartcalmly reloaded his rifle.

  "That'll teach 'em to be a little more keerful who they're a-follerin',"he said. "Now, Paul, let's paddle."

  They sent the boat swiftly toward the north end of the lake, and Paul nowand then caught glimpses of the Miamis trying to keep parallel with it,although out of range; but presently, as they passed the island, and couldswing out into the middle of the lake, the last of them sank permanentlyfrom sight. But the two kept on in the canoe. The moonlight faded alittle, and soon the hills on the shore could be seen only as a blackblur.

  "This is jest too easy, Paul," said Jim Hart, "With them runnin' aroun'that big outer circle, they couldn't keep up with us even ef they couldsee us. Let's rest a while."

  Both put their paddles inside the canoe and drew long breaths. Each had afeeling of perfect safety, for the time at least, and they let the boatdrift northward under the gentle wind from the south that rippled thesurface of the lake.

  "Water and darkness," said Paul. "They are our friends."

  "The best we could have," said Jim Hart. "Are you rested now, Paul?"

  "I'm fresh again."

  They resumed the paddles, and, curving about, came down on the westernside of the lake until they were opposite the island. Then they paddledstraight for their home, and the word "home," in this case, had its fullmeaning for Paul. It gave him a thrill of delight when the prow of thecanoe struck upon the margin of the little island, and the gloom of thegreat trees was friendly and protecting.

  "We must hide the canoe good," said Jim Hart.

  They concealed it in a thick clump of bushes, and then Hart carefullyreadjusted the bushes so that no one would notice that they had ever beendisturbed, and they took their way to the hut in the glen. They did notlight a fire, but they sat for a little while on the stones, talking.

  "You're sure they won't come over to the Island?" said Paul.

  "They'll never do it," replied Jim Hart confidently. "Besides, they ain'tgot the least suspicion that we've come here. Likely, they think we'velanded at the north end uv the lake, an' they'll be prowlin' aroun' tharthree or four days lookin' fur us. Jest think, Paul, uv all the workthey'll hev fur nothin'. I feel like laughin'. I think I _will_ laugh."

  He kept his word and laughed low; but he laughed long, and with the mostintense pleasure.

  "Jest to think, Paul," he continued, "how we're guarded by dead Injunstheirselves!"

  Presently the two went into the hut, and slept soundly until the nextmorning. They did not light a fire then, but ate cold food, and went downamong the trees to watch the lake. They saw nothing. The water rippled andglowed in alternate gold and silver under the brilliant sunshine, and thehills about it showed distinctly; but there was no sign of a human beingexcept themselves.

  "Lookin' fur us among the hills," said Jim Hart. "You an' me will jestkeep close, Paul, an' we won't light no fire."

  The whole day passed without incident, and the following night also, butabout noon the next day, as they watched from the shelter of the trees,they saw a black dot on the lake, far to the south.

  "A canoe!" said Jim Hart.

  "A canoe? How did they get it?" said Paul--he took it for granted that itsoccupants were Miamis.

  "Guess they brought it across country from some river, and thar they are,"replied Jim Hart. "They've shore put a boat on our lake."

  His tone showed traces of anxiety, and Paul, too, felt alarm. The Miamis,after all, might defy their own superstition and land on the island.Presently another canoe appeared behind the first, and then a third and afourth, until there was a little fleet, which the two watched with silentapprehension. Had Henry Ware been mistaken? Did the Miamis really believeit was a haunted island?

  On came the canoes in a straight black file, enough to contain more than ascore of warriors, and the man and the boy nervously fingered theirrifles. If the Indians landed on the island, the result was sure. The twomight make a good fight and slay some of their foes, but in any eventthey would certainly be taken or killed. Their lives depended upon theeffect of a superstition.

  The line of canoes lay like a great black arrow across the water. Theywere so close together that to the watchers they seemed to blend andbecome continuous, and this arrow was headed straight toward the island.Paul's heart went down with a thump, but a moment later a light leapedinto his eyes.

  "The line is turning!" he exclaimed. "Look, Jim, look! They are afraid ofthe island!"

  "Yes," said Jim Hart, "I see! The ghosts are real, an' it's pow'ful luckyfur us that they are. The Miamis dassent land!"

  It was true. The black arrow suddenly shifted to the right, and the lineof canoes drew into the open water, midway between the island and theeastern mainland.

  "Lay close, Paul, lay close!" said Jim Hart. "We mustn't let 'em catch aglimpse uv us, an' they're always pow'ful keen-eyed."

  Both the man and the boy lay flat on their stomachs on the ground, andpeered from the shelter of the bushes. No human eye out on the lake couldhave seen them there. The canoes were now abreast of the isl
and, but weregoing more slowly, and both could see that the occupants were lookingcuriously at their little wooded domain. But they kept at a healthydistance.

  "I think they're lookin' here because the place is haunted, and notbecause we are on it," said Jim Hart.

  It seemed that he spoke the truth, as the Miamis presently swung nearer tothe mainland and began to examine the shores long and critically.

  "I guess they've been huntin' us all through the woods, an' think now wemay be hid somewhar at the edge uv the lake," said Jim Hart.

  It seemed so. The two lay there for hours, watching the little fleet ofcanoes as it circled the lake, keeping near the outer rim, and searchingamong all the hills and hollows that bordered the shores. Once, when itwas on the western side, the fleet turned its head again toward theisland, and again apprehension arose in the hearts of the boy and the man,but it was only for a fleeting moment. The line of canoes was quicklyturned away, and bore on down the open water. Paul and Jim Hart wereprotected by Manitou.

  The circumnavigation of the lake by the Miamis lasted throughout theremainder of the day, and when the twilight came, the canoes were lost inits shade toward the southern end of the sheet of water.

  "We're safe," said Jim Hart, "but we've still got to keep close. They mayhang about here fur days."

  "What about Henry and Ross and Sol?" asked Paul anxiously. "On their wayback they may run right into that wasp's nest."

  "'Tain't likely," replied Jim Hart. "Our boys know what they're a-doin'.But I wish them Miamis would go away so's I could light a fire an' cooksome fresh meat."