“I’m hoping that one of them is Blazing Arrow,” was his thought.
He was resentful to that degree toward this particular Shawanoe that, despite the danger from his companion, he would have shot him down; and there can be little question that in doing so he would have rendered a service to humanity.
But he could not identify either of the red men in the moonlight, with their faces turned away from him. He saw them walk to the edge of the torrent, where the tree lay, and then one followed the other across.
“I’d like to know the meaning of that; they must be hunting for Whart or mesilf. I’m pretty sure they won’t find mesilf there, and I don’t know about Whart. If they haven’t got him already, it may take more than them to find him.”
As yet he could not know whether the war party were on this or the other side of the stream. It looked as if the couple were returning to camp. If this was so, the youth must follow them to obtain the information he wanted.
He had reached this conclusion and was about to venture out in the moonlight, when he was thrilled by the sound of the signal which he feared he was never to hear again.
He paused and listened, afraid to reply and yet on the point of doing so.
At the proper interval the call was repeated, and then, so certain that everything was right was he that, instead of making the proper answer, he called in a guarded undertone:
“Is that yersilf, Whart?”
“It is,” was the reply of the delighted friend, and the next minute they were together.
It was a joyous reunion, even though the shadow of great danger rested upon the two youths. Wharton Edwards and Larry Murphy had been separated, seemingly, with slight prospect of ever seeing each other again; they had gone through many perils during the preceding few hours, and at the moment when despair had almost taken possession of both, they clasped hands and stood side by side.
“Are ye sure it’s yersilf, Whart?” asked the elder, squeezing the fingers of his friend, who fully reciprocated the warmth of feeling.
“I’m as sure, Larry, as you are that it’s you.”
“Then we’ll consider it settled; and how are ye?” he asked, shaking again the hand which he had not yet released.
“I was never better, and thankful and happy to find you alive when I feared it was all over with you.”
“The same to yersilf; and have ye suffered no harrum?”
“None at all, though matters kept moving; I dodged up the trail, and the only Shawanoe who followed me was Blazing Arrow.”
“And did he catch ye?”
“Not that I am aware of. You remember the natural clearing, a little way out toward the block-house?”
“That I do.”
“Well, when I struck that, Blazing Arrow was not far behind me. He had my gun and I hadn’t any, so that all I could do was to run, and there he and I had the race that we missed at the settlement.”
“Tell me about it,” eagerly asked Larry.
“There isn’t much to tell, except that I did my best, and I suppose he did the same, Larry; I beat him badly; I must have gained fifty yards on him.”
“And is that the honest truth now, Whart?”
“It is.”
“Heaven bless ye!”
And the enthusiastic fellow struck his friend a resounding whack on the shoulder.
“Sh!” warned Wharton, “we must talk low, for some of them may be near us.”
“Why didn’t ye sind word to me, so that I could have stood by ye and cheered ye on and watched the sight? Wouldn’t it have been a treat!”
“I would have been proud if you and the rest of our friends could have been there, for I did better than I thought I could.”
The friends told the particulars of what had happened to each other since their separation. Happy, indeed, were they in their reunion.
“Whart,” said Larry a few minutes later, “I knowed there was something I’d forgot.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m as hungry as I can be.”
“So am I, and have been for hours; I wish there was some way of getting supper, but I know of none. There is something else, however, that is more important than supper.”
“And what is that?”
“We must get away from here at once. We ought to have left long ago.”
“I’m thinking ye’re right, and I’m ready to do your bidding whenever you are ready. I came near crossing over that tree a good while ago, and I’m prepared to do it now if you say so.”
“I’m not satisfied that that is the best course.”
“Why not?”
“From what you have told me and what I have seen, the Shawanoes seem to be using that tonight as a bridge. I don’t know how many have come and gone over it today. Suppose that a party of them made up their minds to cross at the same time we do?”
“And that’s what some of ’em did when I was about to try it; if me gun hadn’t wobbled behind me shoulder we’d have met on the log.”
“The trees grow to the bank at each end of the log, so that if these two hadn’t slanted across that little, narrow space off there to the left, we wouldn’t have seen them until they stepped upon the foot-bridge. What I mean to say, Larry, is this: we have had such good fortune that we must not tempt Providence further by trying to cross here.”
“How shall we manage it?”
“Go farther up the stream till we’re well away from this place, where the Indians seem to be so plentiful.”
“And maybe there isn’t such a spot.”
“There must be; there are not enough of the Shawanoes to be everywhere.”
“Not that, but a place where we can cross; ye must bear in mind that it’s not me that can jump like yersilf.”
“There must be some spot where the banks come close together. A stream generally grows narrower the nearer you approach the source.”
“True, if it runs between the rocks all the way, as it does above the falls.”
There was logic in these words, and his friend could not deny it.
“I agree with you, Larry; but if the rocks disappear and the torrent widens, then it must be so slow that we can either swim or wade it. There isn’t any chance of our reaching the block-house except by the trail, and that is on the other side.”
“But what about the two that wint across a little while ago?”
“We must look out for them, and for the others, too; we are not through with them yet.”
“I agree with ye now.”
CHAPTER XVI
The Detour
There could be no denying that extraordinary fortune had attended the boys, but they were too prudent to count on a continuance of what might be called the run of good luck, except by the utmost circumspection on their part.
They were together once more, with their guns, ammunition and accoutrements intact, and without either having suffered any harm. Nothing would have been easier for them than to cross the ravine by the fallen tree, which had answered for a foot-bridge more than once that evening, and in doing so it was not probable that they would have run greater risk than they had repeatedly incurred during the preceding few hours; but the necessity for such risk did not exist, and consequently they did not take it. Wharton suspected the truth. The Shawanoes, knowing that the lads, or at least one of them, was in the vicinity, were in ambush along the trail, with the expectation that they would walk into the trap, which is exactly what they would have done had they taken the path opposite to where they were standing while holding their conversation.
The evident and simple course for them to follow was to make a detour, by which they would return to the trail at a point beyond where the red men were awaiting them.
This was more difficult than would be supposed, for the route to the block-house was a winding one, and they were unacquainted with that portion of the country through which they would have to make their way. They might lose themselves altogether, though both were too good woodsmen not to eventually
reach their destination.
But having decided on what to do, they wasted no time. Their purpose was to cross the stream above where they had met, and Wharton picked his way steadily through the wood, with Larry at his heels. Conversation was dangerous, and none for a time was had, since there was no call for it.
The roughness of the ground gave them trouble from the first. They were forced to turn aside repeatedly and flank bowlders, rocks, and wild, broken ravines, into which they would have fallen but for the alertness of Wharton, who maintained his place a few paces in advance.
This course compelled them frequently to edge away from the stream, which still swept between such a high wall of rocks that it was impassable, but they never lost it altogether. By listening carefully they could locate it, and at intervals they made their way to the margin, to learn whether the spot for which they were looking was within sight.
“Well, I declare!”
It was Wharton Edwards who uttered the exclamation, and his companion pushed his way to his side to learn the cause of his excitement. As he did so, he saw they were standing on the edge of a ravine which obtruded itself at right angles to the course they were pursuing.
But for the fact that it contained no water, they would have believed that it was the gorge through which ran the stream. But it was empty, and in the shadows neither could see to the bottom of its gloomy depths. The trees grew so near the margin that the opposite side was indistinct.
“I didn’t expect to meet anything like this,” added Wharton, with a sigh of disappointment; “it means trouble.”
“You can’t tell till ye find out,” was the somewhat superfluous remark of Larry. “It may not run very far to the right or left, and we’ve had so much experience in walking around things that this won’t make much difference one way or t’other.”
“I’m afraid we’ll get so mixed up that we won’t be able to find our way from it now.”
“It may be a lucky thing—maybe the same.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who can say where they are waiting for us? It may be five or ten miles away, or it may be within sight of the block-house. We can get there without setting foot in the trail agin.”
“You may be partly right, Larry, though if we can strike the path five miles away from the falls, I won’t be afraid to keep it until we reach the block-house. The risk beyond that isn’t any greater than what we have always had to run from the time we leave the settlement till we get back again.”
“It strikes me we are not gaining much time by standing here discussing the question.”
As Larry spoke he turned to the left and moved off.
“Hold on!” interrupted his companion; “that will take us farther away than ever, and may lead us so far that we’ll lose the stream altogether.”
By going to the right they approached the current that had to be passed before they could recover the trail. Perhaps a passable spot was at hand, and the means of crossing the smaller ravine was as likely to be on one hand as the other.
With the same pains and labor as before they reached the stream, where they found themselves confronted by a peculiar condition of affairs. The banks were somewhat farther apart, but they remained perpendicular rocks fully twenty feet in height, between which the torrent flowed so impetuously that they would have been as helpless as a balloon in a gale of wind. The crossing-place was still to be sought farther up the stream.
But to reach it they must place themselves on the farther side of the smaller ravine, which crossed their course at right angles. This opened directly into the current, with whose surface it was nearly even. In times of freshet or flood the dry ravine was probably a tributary torrent of the other. At present it looked impassable, but after studying it a few moments Wharton said:
“I believe, Larry, we can both jump that. What do you think?”
“I won’t know for sartin till I try it; then I’ll know, sure.”
“So will we both; but the distance is less than where I made the leap.”
“So it will have to be if it’s mesilf that’s to sail across.”
The conformation of the dry ravine near the stream allowed them to see the other side. Wharton measured the width with his eye, and then, without a word, drew back a single step, and with little effort landed lightly on the opposite side.
“What do you think of that, Larry?”
“It isn’t much for yersilf, but I would be proud of the same.”
“I’m sure there will be no trouble. There is room for you to get a couple of yards start, and I wouldn’t advise you to try it if I wasn’t sure you would succeed.”
Young Murphy was plucky, but he surveyed the task before him with some misgiving. With a depth of about twenty feet, and nothing but rock at the bottom, a failure to land on the other side meant death or serious injury.
He stood on the edge, and spent a minute or two peering down into the gloomy depths. Then he looked across at his friend, who cheered him on.
“I’ll thry it,” he said, resolutely, and with a shake of his head.
“Fling over your gun to me; it will be easier for you to make the jump without that than with it.”
Larry tossed the rifle to his friend, who deftly caught the weapon. Then, with the grim comicality of his nature, he threw his cap after it.
“If I do make a tumble of it, I should like ye to preserve that as a token of remembrance.”
He now braced himself for the effort. With all his strength, he could not compare with his friend in speed and rapidity. The leap, however, was only a moderate one, and Wharton was confident he would make it if no mishap intervened.
And, beyond question, he would have done so had no interference taken place. He carefully backed a rod or so from the edge of the dry ravine.
Everything was going on well, but almost on the edge he stepped on a small pebble, unnoticed by the eye. The effect was slight, and a spectator would hardly have seen it, but, all the same, it was just enough to disarrange his stride, so that when the leap, which he was forced to make, took place, it was faulty. He lost the impetus that otherwise would have landed him on his feet on the other side with hardly a jar to his body.
“I can’t do it! I can’t do it, Whart!” called the leaper at the moment of bounding into the air, for he could not fail to know that he was about to fall short.
The waiting friend said nothing, but braced himself for the shock, for he, too, knew what was coming.
Larry barely missed landing, but his hands were thrown forward where his feet should have struck, and had he received no help he would have gone backward and down the ravine.
But it was for this that Wharton Edwards had prepared himself. Each hand of Larry was grasped by his own, and he almost lay on his back as he tugged to draw him out of the gorge and up on the solid support above.
Had not Wharton dug his heels into a projection, he would have had to let go or be drawn downward with his friend, who could not help drawing tremendously on him. Larry, however, gave great aid by throwing one foot on top of the rock, and using that limb as a lever with which to lift his body the rest of the short distance. This so lessened the task that the next minute the danger was over, and the two stood beside each other.
CHAPTER XVII
By the Lake
The place for which the two were searching was found within a furlong of where Larry Murphy, with the assistance of his companion, leaped the day before. But how different from that which they had in mind! Instead of a simple widening and shallowing of the stream, it expanded into a small lake several miles long, with a width one-third or one-half as great. The sheet of water discharged itself through the narrow, canyon-like passage, eventually finding its way into the Ohio. The placid surface gleamed in the moonlight, and was without a ripple. The shores were shaded by overhanging limbs, and the scene was as lonely, as beautiful and impressive as at creation’s morn. The only sign of life was themselves.
“Now,” said young Edwards
, after he and his friend had gazed upon the water for some minutes in silence, “it looks as if the only way to get back to the trail is to go round the lake.”
“But that may reach a dozen miles or farther yet, and by the time we have come round the same we’ll be forty miles from the block-house, and not knowing which way to turn to find it. Ye’re aware, Whart, how hard it is to keep our bearings whin we’re in the woods without knowing the course to take to git anywhere. We’ll be sure to go astray, and may pass within fifty yards of the block-house without knowing the same.”
“You mustn’t forget that the trail which we have been following is not the only one that leads to the place. They extend out in all directions, and we’ll strike some of them.”
“How can we know which course to take? The bother of it is, one may go farther away from it all the time.”
“It isn’t as bad as that, but,” added Wharton, gravely, “the night is getting far along, and we must be several miles from the path, unless it happens to bend around toward the lake. We can’t get back to it before daylight, if we do then. What I am afraid of is that father and mother won’t wait at the block-house for us, but run right into the very danger we have just escaped.”
“Do ye mind now that they won’t start before morning, and they can’t reach the falls till about noon?”
“That all sounds reasonable enough,” replied Wharton, who was considerably agitated, “but how do we know we’re going back to the trail inside of the next two or three days?”
Larry looked at his companion in surprise. The two were standing where the moonlight fell upon them, and their countenances were plainly visible to each other. It had been the Irish youth that, previous to this time, had expressed the most misgiving as to the result, but the other seemed to become, all at once, the most despondent.
The fact was that Wharton was quite buoyant in spirits until they came to the lake. He had been hoping that long before this they would be able to turn back toward the trail, and the prospect of several miles’ farther detour naturally caused his discouragement.
The Edward S. Ellis Megapack Page 135
