Scarred Eagle by Andrew Dearborn - HTML preview

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CHAPTER XIII.
 
IN THE TOILS.

“CLING to the log, an’ push off!” whispered Scarred Eagle. “We must be quick or all his lost!”

The party darted as silently as possible to their places, Rhodan and Ben Mace at either end of the log. In a moment longer they were drifting outward, swimming as fast as they were able. Moorooine and Devine kept their glance behind, being hurriedly directed to give notice when the Indians should come down to the water.

“Now—they most there,” said the girl, in a whisper.

All ceased their exertions, for it was impossible to proceed without disturbing the water sufficient to attract attention. The most lively apprehensions now filled their minds. Would the new-comers at once discover their bound comrades? They were coming on in a line that would bring them within half a dozen yards of the latter. But suddenly pausing, they separated, two going to the right and two toward the left.

“S’archin’ for them that we took!” said Rhodan. “They think t’others ar’ too long away. We kin begin to move ag’in.”

The log was again pushed forward slowly, in order not to attract the notice of the new-comers. As these moved further away, the whites renewed their speed, pushing out with all their strength. But a sudden loud splashing came to their ears, and glancing back, they were able to discover that one of the bound warriors had, by desperate exertions, got his feet sufficiently loose to work around and strike them in the water. The noise attracted the attention of the others, who were already rushing back.

The men now put forth an almost superhuman strength, in their efforts to push the log forward. They had no doubts their whereabouts would soon be known, and a wide-spread alarm given. Full sixty yards were yet between them and the opposite shore. All would depend on their reaching it in time. They could hear a rush of feet around the east side of the bluff; but as yet, no sounds of alarm came. What could this mean? Were not the bound spies yet found?

Once, as Moorooine glanced behind, she fancied she saw a canoe rounding the bluff. She hastily communicated her suspicions to the rest, inciting them, if possible, to greater exertions.

Straining every muscle in the work, the little party soon landed on the shore. Hastily securing their arms, they entered the dark woods. Without expressing it, all wondered that so little commotion had been heard from the bluff. Could it be possible that the Indians were not yet aware that their prey had escaped? Before moving forward they glanced back. To their dismay, they saw three or four canoes darting toward them, spreading apart as they came on, and occasionally displaying torches, which gave a clear view over the adjacent waters.

Nearly all of the little party comprehended the situation at the same moment, and it caused a terrible reaction of disappointment. Not only was their escape known, but it had probably been discovered before, or about the time they had left the shore of the bluff. As far as possible, the Indians had restrained all notes of alarm, and gone to work silently, that their escaping victims might not know of the pursuit.

No sooner had the lights been displayed, than the long-suppressed shouts broke forth from river and forest. Nothing more was needed to confirm the fact that the doomed whites were surrounded. The Indians on the river had detected the floating log, and knew their victims were within the circle. It was evident, the entire force of the village was abroad, determined this time to prevent the possibility of their escape.

“Thar’s only one thing,” said Scarred Eagle, hurriedly, and yet coolly. “The circle ’round us is a big one, an’ they won’t be in a hurry ’bout closin’ it up, when daylight ’ll so soon show things plain. We must separate. Some on us may git off, but I needn’t say it’s onsartin. Ah, well, whatever’s the will o’ Providence we must give in tew. Come, boy, an’ you tew, girl! We three ’ll keep together, be our fates good or bad; ’cos I know it’s y’ur wish as it is mine. The rest kin go separate ways, an’ each trust to his own gifts an’ a Higher Power!”

The trio moved silently away in the gloom, Brom tightly clasping the hand of the Indian girl. He soon became convinced the others kept together, and were following on a parallel course to their own, and a few yards to their left. All commotion had now ceased, and the silence was most thrilling. They had absolutely to feel their way, and knew not when a lurking foe might spring upon them. Each one carried a hatchet in one hand, and the deadly knife in the other. As they advanced down the line of shore, an occasional ray of light was reflected from the torches on the river. But at last these were no longer to be seen. No doubt those in the canoes were posted at intervals a short distance from the banks, listening for the movements of the fugitives.

Suddenly Rhodan paused, and turned to Brom and the girl.

“’Twon’t last much longer, boy,” he said. “Ef we don’t meet some o’ the reds soon, daylight ’ll be upon us afore long at best. For myself it’s no gr’et matter, ’cos, beyond the nat’rul desire to live, I’ve no gr’et object to live for, ’cept the good o’ you an’ my brave girl here.”

As he spoke, they noticed he had laid down his trusty rifle, retaining only his other weapons.

“An’ now,” he added, “I’m off toward the right, hyar. The minnit ye hear a shout an’ a rush, you two put nor’-west. Mind to bear a trifle toward the village at first, an’ then keep on to y’ur left, ’cordin’ as ye judge the way is clear. Ye may git off!”

He grasped a hand of each, and then attempted to turn, but they clung to his hard hands.

“No, Rhodan!” said Brom, hoarsely. “’Twon’t work. You’d go to sartin death, an’ ye know it. An’ to save us! No—stay; you kin help this girl out alone, better’n I could. She’s ’s dear ter me as life, an’ she shell be saved. I’ll go an’ bein’ younger—”

“No—me go too, den!” said Moorooine. “Hark! Warriors not far that way now. You shall no die for me. Do no good if did. We better die together. See—thar one come!”

Before another word could be passed, a figure loomed up beside them, and the voice of Mace whispered:

“Come out here, Scarred Eagle. Goodbrand has stole down toward the bank, where the lights last showed a canoe.”

“Ay, I know what the Miami wants to ondertake; but too many mustn’t try it, even ef thar’s an atom uv a chance. I don’t say thar ain’t. Go back with Mace then, you two,” he added, addressing Brom and the Indian maiden. “What I hev spoke of ’ll be of advantage to ye even in that case.”

“What, Rhodan?”

“I’m goin’ ter stir up the devils that ar’ hoverin’ out here,” said the other, as he stripped his wet hunting-frock. “Go on with ’im, Brom, an’ the girl too.”

“But, Rhodan—”

“Don’t waste time,” he interrupted. “I’m detarmined on this, ’cos it’s for your good, an’ the hull on us.”

“Then I’ll go in for the same stretegy,” said Mace. “Go quick, Brom. Ye’ll find Revel an’ the Irishman jist back hyar. Goodbrand ’ll be back in a minit, to lead ye to the water. I’ll creep lower down, an’ raise a row at the right time. Am I right, Scarred Eagle?”

“Yes, go!” said the latter.

As he spoke, the three exchanged a hurried clasp. The next moment Rhodan glided away in one direction, Mace in another. Brom, tenderly clasping the hand of Moorooine, pressed toward the spot indicated by Mace.

In a few moments he found Devine and Revel, who seemed to be expecting them. Hastily communicating the plans of the others, the four at once relapsed into silence as they waited for the return of Goodbrand.

The moments, so full of fearful suspense, seemed hours. The darkness, meantime, seemed to deepen, as it often does just before daybreak. Not the slightest sound yet broke the solemn stillness; yet they were conscious that all around them foes were lurking, or crawling forward, ready to pounce upon their victims.

They strained their eyes toward the dark line of water just visible below them. Suddenly a light flashed out whose rays penetrated nearly up to the little ascent upon which they stood. It was gone in a moment, leaving a blacker darkness around.

But the light, though momentary as that of a lightning-flash, had disclosed a canoe close up to the bank, in which were five warriors. And the watchers were in time to notice that this canoe was below the others, which were grouped one above another, to the south angle of the bluff above.

It was evident, then, that the Indians supposed the fugitives were hidden directly opposite them, and that, attempting to pass up, down, or back, their capture would be inevitable. And should they, in sheer desperation, take to the water, sharp eyes and ears were watching in anticipation.

Nearly five minutes had now passed and still Goodbrand came not. He must have just seen the light, giving him the very knowledge he evidently sought. What was detaining him?

Brom leaned back, and without taking his eyes from the direction of the river, whispered:

“Either Goodbrand is took, or has found some o’ the reds atween us an’ him. What d’ye say, Revel? I think we mout’s well be movin’ toward the way Mace has gone!”

His only answer was a grip upon his arm, and a whisper in his very ear:

“Be careful an’ very ready! A warrior come—very close—behind us only very little.”

Brom turned silently. Just behind him crouched Revel and Devine, whom the keen-sensed Indian girl had similarly warned. She herself had slowly leaned against a tree, and inclining his body toward her, Brom sunk to foot and knee!

For half a minute the dread silence continued. Brom began to fear his whisper had been heard beyond the ears of his companions. Ah! There comes a movement—hardly perceptible is the sound, but still enough to show that an enemy is almost beside them. A gesture from Moorooine reveals the fact that a warrior is upon the opposite side of the tree!

It is a fearful moment, but prompt action is necessary. Brom straightens up and leans forward with drawn knife. His intention is to spring like lightning behind the tree and kill the warrior if possible without giving the latter a chance to cry out.

“Waugh!” comes at this moment a whispered exclamation at the left, quickly followed by a few cautious words in the Indian tongue. Turning his head he saw another Indian, who stood so as to command a view of both sides of the tree.

As a lightning suspicion flashed through Brom’s mind, the one behind the tree moved aside toward the new-comer, uttering a few words as he passed. The next moment a long, muscular arm clasped him from behind and a hand was upon his throat. Then there followed a short, silent struggle, and the warrior was pressed to the ground, stunned and senseless from a heavy blow on his head!

“Now come quick!” whispered Goodbrand, excitedly. “If don’t, some come ’tween us an’ shore!”

Silently and in single file they followed him. They were within twenty paces of the bank when there came to their ears the unmistakable sounds of a struggle at some distance behind. As they dropped to the earth a smothered groan rung out through the solemn depths, showing that Scarred Eagle had encountered an enemy.

Instantly a light was seen flashing from the edge of the water immediately in their front, and a rush was heard in the direction of the sounds; then a shrill cry rung out below them, ending in a groan that told of death. Several dark forms leaped past, immediately in front of the fugitives, and became lost in the gloom!