The Edward S. Ellis Megapack

by Edward S. Ellis

  When they were seated at the table and Otto’s hunger was nearly satisfied, he told his friends with a grin, that it was the first food he had tasted in twenty-four hours. They were shocked, and both took him to task for his failure to make known the truth the evening before. He made the philosophic reply that if he had done so he would have missed the boundless enjoyment of such a meal as that of which he was then partaking.

  Mrs. Carleton on rising in the morning felt that Otto ought not to be allowed to go on the expedition until after a further talk with his parents, who, despite what they had said, might be unwilling for him to engage in such an undertaking; but when she learned how the poor fellow had been made to suffer with hunger her feelings changed. It was hard to repress her indignation, and she made up her mind to talk to the cruel folks as they had never been talked to before; but she allowed no impatient word to escape her in the presence of their son. She simply advised him to depart as soon as he could upon the hunt for the horse, and not to return, if possible, until it was recovered or another obtained.

  “Dot is vot I does,” replied Otto with a shake of his head and a determined expression; “Otto doesn’t comes back till he brings some kind of animal—if it’s only a ’coon or ’possum.”

  When he walked over to his own home (the building for which was precisely the same as that of widow Carleton), his father and mother were eating their breakfast. They looked surlily at him as he entered, and the mother showed her incredible heartlessness by asking her only child in German:

  “Where is Toby that you lost?”

  “How can I tell, mother, except that he is in the woods? I tried hard to find him again, and had it not been for Deerfoot I would have lost my life; but he is gone.”

  “Did I not tell you to go and not come back until you brought him with you?” demanded the father, glaring at his boy as though he was ready to throttle him.

  “So you did—so you did; but I couldn’t do much last night, when it was so dark and stormy. I have come over to get my gun and ammunition.”

  The father and mother looked in each other’s faces, as though in doubt whether they would let the lad have the property, but before the question could be debated Otto had flung the powder-horn over his shoulders, adjusted the bullet-pouch, shoved the hunting-knife in the girdle at his waist, and walked to the front door, where he halted and looked back.

  “Can’t I have breakfast before I go?”

  “No!” fairly shouted the father; “begone; you shall not have a mouthful under my roof till you bring back the colt you have lost.”

  “Nobody wants anything you’ve got on that table,” the lad was indignant enough to reply: “I’ve had one meal that was worth more than a dozen like that. Good-by!”

  And before the dumfounded parents could rally from the unparalleled impudence of the youth he was gone.

  When he reached the home of Jack Carleton, the latter was waiting and impatient to start. Jack had already kissed his mother good-by several times and he repeated the fond embrace. Tears were in the eyes of both, and the mother stood in the door of her cabin shading her eyes with her hand until the two passed from sight in the forest beyond the clearing.

  Several of the pioneers who were busy about the settlement greeted the boys and inquired their errand. Colonel Martin shook hands with them, and asked all the particulars of the business on which they were engaged. His age and position authorized him to ask such searching questions, had the couple been full-grown men instead of boys.

  Otto answered truthfully, and the colonel smiled grimly and shook his head.

  “It’s mighty little chance you have of ever finding that horse again, but you may come upon another. Take my advice, however,” added the colonel with a wink of his left eye, “make certain the owner isn’t in sight when you walk off with the animal.”

  “Why, colonel, you don’t think we mean to steal a horse!” exclaimed the horrified Jack.

  “Certainly not—certainly not,” the principal man of the settlement hastened to say, “I don’t believe you could be persuaded to do such a thing—that is if the owner was looking.”

  “We couldn’t be persuaded to do such a thing under any circumstances,” exclaimed Jack, his face flushing over the idea that any one who knew him should suspect him capable of such a crime.

  “See here,” said the colonel, dropping his voice and stepping in front of them, “you tell me you are going after a horse. Have you the money with you to buy one?”

  “No; we cannot get one that way.”

  “I judged not; how then do you propose to obtain him?”

  “Toby, the colt belonging to Otto’s father, is wandering in the woods not very far away—”

  “How do you know he is?” interrupted the colonel.

  “Why, he was doing so only a few days ago.”

  “That is no proof that he is keeping it up; in fact it is scarcely possible that such is the case. Recollect, my boy, that several tribes of Indians hunt through this portion of Louisiana, and they would be much quicker than you to observe the trail of a horse wearing an iron shoe; they would be inquiring enough also to investigate for themselves, and, when they came upon the colt, they would snap him up quicker than lightning.”

  The boys felt that somehow or other the wonderful young Shawanoe would appear at the right moment and lend them the help which they were certain to need. Should he fail to do so, they could no more recapture and take the colt to his owner than they could penetrate into the Dark and Bloody Ground and bring back the great war chief Tecumseh as a prisoner.

  But neither Colonel Martin nor any one in the village knew anything about the extraordinary Indian youth, and, while Jack was asking himself whether he should linger long enough to explain the situation, the gentleman relieved them from the embarrassment by a hearty slap on the shoulder of Jack, and the exclamations:

  “I was once a boy myself! I haven’t forgotten that jolly time: we always liked to have some sort of excuse when we went off on a frolic. You see what a lot of work there is to do in clearing the ground and getting it ready for cultivation; you would much rather be hunting and rambling through the woods; I can’t say I blame you, so off with you, and when you come back with word that the horse was mean enough to keep out of your way, why we won’t be too hard on you.”

  And with another resounding slap, the hearty colonel gave the boys a vigorous shove which sent them forward among the trees, near which they had halted.

  CHAPTER III.

  WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED.

  Jack Carleton was too sensible a youth to suppose that the Lost Trail could be found by a blind wandering through the immense expanse of wilderness, which stretched hundreds of miles in almost every direction from the little settlement of Martinsville. Both he and Otto had a strong hope, when they reached home after their stirring adventure with Deerfoot, that the colt Toby would follow them of his own accord. He belonged to a species possessing such unusual intelligence that there would have been nothing remarkable in such a proceeding, and the fact that he did not do so, gave ground for the belief that he had fallen into the hands of parties who prevented the animal from doing as he chose.

  One fact was clearly established; Toby had been within a comparatively short distance of the settlement, and, if he had remained anywhere in the neighborhood during the late storm, traces of him must be found without much difficulty. But one of the easiest things in the world is to theorize over any problem; to push that theory to a successful conclusion is altogether another matter.

  While it lacked a couple of hours of noon, the boys reached an elevated section which gave them an extended view in every direction. Looking to the eastward, Otto fancied he could detect the gleam of the distant Mississippi, but Jack assured him he was mistaken. Too many miles lay between them and the mighty Father of Waters for the eye to traverse the space.

  Young Carleton took off his cap and drew his handkerchief across his perspiring forehead. Then he sighed and smiled
.

  “This doesn’t appear so hopeful to me as it did last night, when we sat around the fire and talked it over; but of course we won’t give up so long as there’s the least hope.”

  “And it won’t do for me to give him up then,” replied Otto, with a meaning shake of his head; “you don’t know my fader as well as me.”

  “I don’t want to either,” remarked Jack, who did not think it his duty to refrain from showing the contempt he felt for the miserly, cruel parent of his friend.

  “No,” observed Otto, with a touch of that grim humor which he sometimes displayed, “I doesn’t dinks dot you and him could have much fun together.”

  The young friends were too accustomed to the immensity of nature, as displayed on every hand, to feel specially impressed by the scene which would have held any one else enthralled. It may be said they were “on business,” though it had very much the appearance of sport.

  “Halloo! I expected it!” called out Jack Carleton, whose gaze abruptly rested on a point due southwest, and more than a mile away.

  His companion did not need the guidance of the outstretched arm and index finger leveled toward the distant spot, where the smoke of a camp-fire was seen climbing toward the blue sky. The scene on which the boys looked was similar to that which met the eye of Ned Preston and Deerfoot when they lay on the broad flat rock and gazed across at the signal-fire in the distance.

  The wooded country gradually sloped to the south and west from the elevation whereon the young friends had halted, slowly rising and undulating until the eye could follow the blue wavy outlines no further. At the point already named, and in the lowest portion of the intervening country, a camp-fire was burning. The smoke, as it filtered upward through the branches of the trees, and gradually dissolved in the pure air above, was seen with such distinctness that it caught the eye of Jack the moment it was turned in that direction.

  It was not a signal-fire, such as one is likely to detect when journeying through an Indian country, but the vapor from the camp of some body of men who were not making the slightest attempt to conceal themselves, for it cannot be conceived that they had any reason for doing so.

  If the party were Indians, they surely had no necessity for stationing a sentinel on the outskirts of their camp to watch for danger.

  Jack and Otto looked in each other’s faces and smiled; the natural question had presented itself at the same moment. It was, “Can it be that the horse we are seeking is with them?”

  “The only way to find out is to go forward and see for ourselves,” said Jack, after they had discussed the question for several minutes.

  “’Spose dot de horse is with them—what den?”

  Jack shrugged his shoulders.

  “Deerfoot used to say that he could never answer such a question until he knew exactly how everything stood. Now, we can’t be certain whether they are Indians or white men, and I don’t know as it makes much difference one way or the other, for our own horse thieves over in Kentucky were dreaded as much as were the Shawanoes. They were a good deal meaner, too, for they oppressed their own race.”

  “Dot is vot I sometimes dinks of fader,” was the unexpected remark of Otto; “if he was only a colored man or Injin I would have more respect for him; dot is so.”

  “Come on; we have started out to do something, and we can’t gain anything by staying here.”

  The brief halt had refreshed the boys, and they now moved forward with their naturally vigorous and almost bounding steps. While they had much curiosity, and a somewhat singular misgiving, yet they were in no particular fear, for it was impossible to believe they were in any real peril.

  It was quite a tramp to reach the camp in which just then they felt so much interest, and the sun was close to meridian when Jack, who was slightly in advance, slackened his gait, and remarked in an undertone:

  “It can’t be far—halloo!”

  While picking their way through the valley, they lost sight of the wavering column of vapor, except once or twice when they were able to catch a glimpse of it through the tree-tops. Jack’s exclamation was caused by another sight of the murky column, which, as he suspected, proved to be little more than a hundred yards distant.

  There was so much undergrowth that nothing of the fire itself could be observed, though the smoke showed itself distinctly in the clear air above.

  “Vell, vot does we does now?” was the natural query of Otto, as he placed himself beside his young friend.

  “I guess we may as well keep on, until we find out who they are.”

  “After we finds out vot we does den?”

  “We shall see—come on.”

  It was simple prudence that they should speak in whispers, and step with as much care as if they were scouts entering the camp of an enemy. It would have been rashness to neglect so simple a precaution, no matter how favorable the circumstances.

  “Holds on!” whispered Otto, “I dinks I goes around the oder side while you takes a look on dis side.”

  “There is no need of doing that,” interposed Jack; “we found out the consequence of separating when in danger. You needn’t keep behind me, but you may walk at my side.”

  “All right,” responded Otto, obeying the suggestion.

  A rod or two further, and something red gleamed, among the trees and undergrowth. Smoke was observed at the same moment, and immediately after came the hum of voices and the sight of persons stretched on the ground in lolling, indolent positions, while some were sitting on a fallen tree, and two were engaged in broiling some venison, which evidently was meant to furnish dinner for the rest. The majority were smoking a species of red clay pipe, and the appearance of the party suggested that they were resting after a laborious tramp through the woods.

  There were precisely ten, and they were Indians—every one. Jack could not be certain of the tribe to which they belonged, but inasmuch as it was apparent they were neither Shawanoes nor Hurons, he was confident they were Osages, though it was not impossible that their totem was another altogether.

  Several peculiarities about the strange Indians interested the youth. They were noticeably shorter in stature than the Hurons and Shawanoes whom they had been accustomed to meet on the other side of the Mississippi. The poetical American Indian is far different from the one in real life. It is rarely that a really handsome warrior or squaw is met. They are, generally a slouchy, frowsy, lazy, unclean people, of whom nothing is truer than that distance lends enchantment to their view.

  Those upon whom Jack and Otto gazed with natural curiosity, were not only shorter in stature, but of homelier countenance. Their eyes were smaller, more piggish, and further apart, their cheek-bones more prominent, the foreheads lower and more sloping, while Jack always asserted that they had much larger mouths than the Indians with whom he was familiar.

  While asking themselves whether it was wise to go any closer and to make their acquaintance, the lads stood side by side, each with the stock of his gun resting on the earth, while their whole attention was absorbed by the curious scene before them.

  It would naturally follow that if the Indian party was in such plain sight of the boys, they themselves must have been visible to the red men had they chosen to cast their searching glances towards the spot where the two were standing, even though the latter were partially hidden by the undergrowth.

  Had Jack and Otto been as vigilant and suspicious as they ought to have been, their misgivings would have been awakened by what took place within the next ten minutes. Two of the warriors, leaving their rifles where they were leaning against a fallen tree, leisurely rose and sauntered into the woods, taking a course directly opposite to that which would have led them to where the boys stood. The latter observed the movement, but thought nothing of it.

  “What do you say?” finally asked Jack, in a guarded voice; “shall we go forward and make their acquaintance?”

  “Dey haven’t any horses that we can see, and I dinks dot we better goes away till some other time
.”

  “I am inclined to believe you are right—”

  At that moment, and without the least warning, a brawny, coppery arm shot over the shoulder of Jack Carleton, and, grasping his rifle with an iron grip, snatched it from him. At the same instant, a precisely similar movement deprived Otto Relstaub of his most important weapon, the two friends being made prisoners before they dreamed they were in the least danger.

  CHAPTER IV.

  CAPTORS AND CAPTIVES.

  With an exclamation of affright, Jack Carleton whirled on his heel and found the broad, grinning face of one of the warriors almost against his own. Holding the rifle back, as if expecting an attempt to recover it, the savage thrust his head forward, with a tantalizing expression overspreading his ugly features. At the same moment he muttered something very rapidly in his own tongue. Not a word was understood by Jack, but he was sure the warrior said, “Ah, ha, young man, I’ve caught you, and you can’t help yourself.”

  The experience of Otto Relstaub was slightly different from that of his companion. When he found his rifle gone and a squatty Indian at his elbow, he was panic-stricken.

  “Mine gracious!” he exclaimed, “this ain’t de best place for me; I dinks I goes to some oder place.”

  Naturally he made a dash to retrace his steps, but the warrior was too quick for him. He had taken his second step only, when his captor grasped the ankle of the foot that was rising from the ground, and drew backward with such force that Otto sprawled on his face.

  Jack, who could not believe that these red men were of a very sanguinary disposition, laughed outright over the discomfiture of his friend.

  “Can’t you kick him loose?” he called.

  “If he don’t hang on too tight,” replied Otto, trying with might and main to free himself.

  The moment the boys were captured, the attention of the entire company was centred upon them. All talking ceased, and every one stood up and looked toward the point of interest. Several went forward to meet the captives, and the general grin that lighted up the aboriginal countenances seemed to shed a mild sort of sunlight among and under the trees.