The Pioneer Boys on the Great Lakes; or, On the Trail of the Iroquois by St. George Rathborne
CHAPTER XIX
A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT
"THEY must land soon," said Sandy, when they had been trying to keep upwith the canoe for a long time, though without brilliant success, forit was far ahead of the three scouts, possibly a couple of miles.
"Yes," Bob made answer; "for the day is near an end, and they will wishto camp. There, see, they have at last headed toward the shore. We mustmake sure to note where the boat lands, so that we can take up thetrail if they plunge into the forest."
A short time later and they had seen the canoe pushed up on the sandybeach. After the customary manner of the red men, it was immediatelypicked up and carried away, doubtless to be secreted among the bushes,either until morning or until some future occasion when its serviceswould be needed.
"Now what is our next move?" asked Sandy.
"Keep straight along until we are within striking distance of thespot. But let us seek advice from Blue Jacket. He will know what isbest," was Bob's answer.
To their surprise the Shawanee brave decided that it would be just aswell for them to remain where they were, and rest an hour or more. Whendarkness had fallen they could step out on the open beach, and makeas good time as though they struggled along all the while through thedense underbrush of the woods.
So they lay down and waited, meanwhile munching a little food in orderto sustain them through whatever might befall them that night.
Finally Blue Jacket arose, and spoke a few low words. Both brotherswere immediately on their feet, eager to be moving. And, after theirdays of fighting with the rough country over which their long journeyhad taken them, it was certainly something of a relief to be able tostride over the sandy stretch of beach.
Presently Sandy uttered a low cry:
"A canoe! Why cannot we use that?"
Bob did not reply, but looked questioning at Blue Jacket. The Indiannodded, and soon the three had entered a long canoe that rested on thebeach and contained two broad paddles. The two boys took the paddles,and presently the craft was moving silently and swiftly over the placidwaters of Lake Erie.
"Not too far from shore. No can see other canoe if go too far,"cautioned the Indian.
He stood in the bow of the canoe, his eyes on the alert for the firstsign of the other craft. Thus over a mile was covered when the Indiangave a sign to turn back to the beach.
Just as the Shawanee had promised, they arrived in the neighborhoodof the landing place of the canoe about as soon as if they had keptdiligently pushing forward through the forest, with its variouspitfalls, ravines and thickets.
Bob was eagerly waiting for the verdict which he knew must soon fallfrom the lips of Blue Jacket. He saw the young Indian craning his neckin order to take in all the surroundings, although his attention was ofcourse directed more toward the depths of the woods than out upon theheaving lake.
Then Blue Jacket's hand fell upon the arm of Bob.
"Ugh! look, it is well! They camp!" he grunted.
And Bob, following the line of the other's extended arm, saw theglimmer of a fire almost hidden in the dense forest.
"We shall soon know now, Sandy," he observed, cheerfully. "Blue Jacketmeans to creep forward, and get close enough to the camp to learnwhether these are they we have sought, or if we have to go on further."
"But he has already told us he could see that the braves were Senecas,from the feathers in their scalplocks, and their manner of dress?"declared Sandy.
"That is true," Bob replied, softly; "but let us drop down here, andwait for him to return. He cannot be long."
The Shawanee glided away as silently as a shadow, leaving Bob and Sandyat the point where a clump of silver birches would guide him again totheir hiding place.
"What if he comes to tell us it is Our Kate?" demanded the youngerbrother.
"Then we can have but one duty, and that is to wrest her away fromthose who would try to hold her," came the steady reply.
"They will resist," remarked Sandy.
"It will not be well for them if they do," said his companion, withthat stern look upon his face, as seen in the starlight, that alwaysreminded Sandy of their father.
The minutes fairly dragged along. Sandy tried to count so as to havesomething to occupy his mind and keep him quiet; but he found itimpossible to keep from thinking of that dear little sister whom theyhad come so far to save.
Then, without the slightest warning, Blue Jacket stood beside them,grave, and with folded arms. Bob guessed the truth instantly from themanner of their red ally, for, had the other any good news to declare,he must have shown it. Sandy was not so ready a reader of human nature,and immediately exclaimed in a whisper:
"What success did you have, Blue Jacket? Is it our sister, and thosebraves the Senecas who stole her away from our mother's cabin?"
"No Black Beaver, no paleface girl. Seneca braves, and young squaw,that all!" replied the spy, stolidly.
Of course the sanguine Sandy was terribly disappointed; so much so thathe allowed a groan to break from his lips. After which once more hisresolution took a firm grip upon him.
"Then we must forget all about this, and push on to find the villagewhere Black Beaver, the thief, has his lodge. It keeps getting harderand harder; but nothing is going to stop us, is it, Bob?" he declared,grimly.
"Nothing!" echoed the older brother, as he pressed Sandy's hand.
They lay down, almost exhausted, and sought to secure the rest ofwhich they were so sorely in need. With the coming of another day theywatched until the little party once more launched their canoe, andstarted paddling off toward the east.
To Bob this was a mere incident that interested him but little. BlueJacket on the other hand saw a deep significance in the move. He knewit very probably indicated that the village to which these Indiansbelonged was located somewhere toward the east, or they would hardly begoing in the direction of the rising sun, and that was a most importantpoint for them to know, now that the big water blocked their furthertravel to the north.
Through the entire day they moved steadily along, at first in thecanoe they had found, and then, abandoning the canoe, they continuedon foot. But conditions had commenced to assume a different aspect.Three separate times during this day Blue Jacket's amazing power ofobservation, or intuition, had saved them from running into danger.The woods seemed to be full of parties of Indians, either hunting, orheading toward some central point, where possibly they expected to holda grand powwow or "palaver," as a council was called by the bordermen.
Upon questioning Blue Jacket, after they had hidden themselves, andwatched fully a dozen blanketed figures pass in Indian file, silent andmysterious, Bob was not much surprised to learn that it was the opinionof their red guide that these warriors could not be out on a hunt, elsethey would never have kept together in the way they did.
Other signs, which the quick eye of the Shawanee could catch, told himthat it was no foray in search of fresh meat that took these dusky sonsof the forest abroad.
"Pottawottomies," Blue Jacket had muttered. "Come from setting sun, upby other big water, Detroit way. Something doing, Bob, Sandy. No travelso far not so. Mebbe we learn same soon. Much war drum sound. Heaptrouble for paleface settlers along Ohio. Ugh!"
"He says those Indians were Pottawottomies, Bob," whispered Sandy. "Iwonder now if that firebrand, Pontiac, is up in this region? Perhaps wemay even set eyes on him before we start for home."
"Well, as for me," remarked his brother, "I'd take little pleasurein doing that; for he has an evil name among the settlements. Manyborder posts have gone up in flame and smoke because of Pontiac, andthe renegades that follow him, warring upon their kind. According tomy mind it would be a blessed day for pioneers everywhere if a bulletcould be sent to lay the monster low."
Little did either of them suspect, while thus talking, how soonthey were to be granted a most wonderful opportunity for seeing thenotorious sachem, whose name had for years thrilled the hearts of amultitude of mothers, as they sheltered their children in
All through this day the three continued to head toward the landwhere the terrible waters fell from the lofty rocks with a roar thatwas deafening. To the superstitious Indians, Niagara's mighty andunceasing clamor was the voice of the Great Spirit. Their medicine menclaimed to be able to interpret what messages were being sent from theHappy Hunting Grounds for the guidance of the Great Spirit's favoritechildren with the redskins. And for centuries, doubtless, had thecataract also been the scene of sacrifices, when beautiful maidens weresent over its brink to appease an angry Manitou.
"Why, the woods are full of them," said Sandy, when, just before dusk,they were again compelled to hide in order to let a file of solemnwarriors pass by.
Bob was more than uneasy. He saw readily enough that, if what BlueJacket suspected turned out to be the truth, and that a grand councilwas about to be held at which representatives of many tribes wouldappear, it made their mission all the more difficult of accomplishment.
Even though they succeeded in rescuing little Kate, once the alarm wasgiven how could they ever expect to elude the scores upon scores ofpainted savages with whom the woods would quickly be filled?
"Perhaps it may mean more delay for us, Sandy," he had said.
"You make me groan when you say that, Bob," the other had replied.
"Our only hope," Bob pursued, firmly, "must be to make a successfulflight when we have swooped down on the wigwam of Black Beaver, andsnatched our sister from the possession of the Iroquois. And, whilethe forest is fairly alive with enemies, what chance would we have forgetting clear?"
"Yes, I know you must be right, Bob, just as you always are," Sandymuttered. "But how can we ever stand it?"
"Hist! Blue Jacket is holding up a warning finger again. He must smellmore of the Indians coming somewhere. Lie down, Sandy, and don't evenwhisper till he gives the word."
Long before now Sandy had declared that it was his positive beliefthat their dusky guide must be able to scent the presence of Indians,because he always gave them warning so far in advance of the actualappearance of the prowlers; but Bob knew that it was from his wonderfulsense of hearing that Blue Jacket thus forestalled the appearance ofthe Indians on their dog-trot journey; that he could catch the faintestsound, just as the long-eared rabbit might, or the timid mink thatthey sought to trap for his valuable pelt.
Once more they were moving now, and it seemed to Bob that Blue Jacketmust have some definite object ahead, for otherwise he certainly wouldnot persist in pushing onward after the shades of night had fallen.
Presently he came to a stop. They were under a mighty oak tree, oneof the widest spreading Bob had ever set eyes on. He saw Blue Jacketlooking upward eagerly, as though interested in those great gnarledlimbs that seemed to shut out the very stars of the heavens.
"Climb far up, Bob, Sandy," breathed the voice of the red guide, as hehimself started to set the example.
Wonderingly the two brothers obeyed. Neither of them could just thengive the slightest guess as to why Blue Jacket wished them to climb thetree. Even though the woods did seem to be full of moving red men, andthe risk of discovery constant, it would appear that they might havereadily found some dense thicket into which they could have crawled,and thus remain undiscovered by the enemy.
But, by this time, both of the young pioneers had come to understandthat Blue Jacket never made a move without a good reason; and Bob, inparticular, felt positive that presently they would learn the meaningof this queer action.
Not until he had mounted far into the dense branches of the great oakdid the young Shawanee brave halt.
"Now, sit like rock--no move--see soon what happen!" whispered the redguide, as they came to a halt.
A short time passed away. Bob was listening intently. Dimly a suspicionas to the truth was beginning to filter through his brain. He wished toverify it, and it was for this reason that he strained his ears to thelimit.
Then from underneath something came to him. Sandy, too, must have heardit, for his lips sought the ear of his brother, and he whispered assoftly as the sigh of the night breeze through the topmost branches ofthe great oak:
"Indians below!"