THE strange apparition was gone, and the next moment the loon-call sounded from the depths of the woods, mingled with cries which seemed to burst from a hundred throats. The young soldier bounded across the open space, and ran at his best speed toward the place where he had left the boat. Suddenly, without warning, two dark figures started up in his path and seized him, and he thought himself again in the hands of his enemies, when he heard one of his captors say, in a nasal tone not to be mistaken: "This yew, capting?" He had fallen into the hands of his friends!
"All right, Seth," he answered. "Get back to the canoe as quick as you can. The woods are alive with savages."
The Dead Chief led the way, and in a moment they were again in the canoe, and pushed off from the shore. The moon had gone down, and a darkness like Egypt had fallen on the river. The Dead Chief had taken the paddle, and, under the strokes of his vigorous arm, the light craft was shooting down the stream. The Pottawatomie knew his course well, and how much danger lay before them. Not a word was spoken, for they knew the virtue of silence. They must break through the cordon of their enemies at any and every hazard. On they went, the shadows dark about them, each grasping a weapon, and ready to defend himself to the utmost if attacked. They knew that by far the greater portion of the wild band had gathered about the death-fire, and yet they were certain that the Prophet was too able a warrior to leave the path to Vincennes clear.
"Back her a minnit, chief," whispered the Yankee. "I want tew speak tew the young 'un here."
By the skillful use of his paddle the chief managed to keep the canoe nearly stationary in the midst of the stream, while Seth bent forward and whispered to his young companion:
"Yew got away; heow did yew dew it?"
"By aid of the Skeleton Scout," replied Floyd, in the same tone. "Whatever he may be, he is at least a friend to us."
"He never hunts nothing but Injins, he don't," said the Long Man. "Clever of him tew help yew, anyheow. Was they going to scorch yew?"
"The fire was lit already," replied the young soldier. "Ugh! my throat is dry by even thinking of it."
"A close shave!" chuckled the Yankee. "That Skeleton Scout is a darned nice ghost, by gracious. How many Injins below, think?"
"Seventy or eighty danced around me at the stake."
"Pooty dancers?"
"Can't say I appreciated their efforts."
"No? that's queer! Let her go on, chief. The men we've got tew tackle are waiting for us in the mash (marsh). Git yure weepons ready, 'cause we are 'most thar."
Again the canoe glided softly down the stream, until it struck the marsh of which he spoke. It was a level bottom, where the soft soil had drifted down and been left, leaving scarcely room in places for a canoe to cross without grounding on the soft bottom. In this soil gigantic rushes had grown up, as we see them in our creeks when duck-hunting. These rushes rose above the water, to the hight of eight or ten feet, and stood so thickly together that, unless a man was well acquainted with them it would be impossible to force a canoe through. Of course there was a channel running through the marsh, but it was more than likely that the patrol canoes of the Indians occupied this water-course, and it would not be an easy task to get down, facing their weapons. The Dead Chief seized one of the rushes and held the canoe, and all bent forward to listen. Not a sound was heard except the sighing of the long blades as the wind rustled through them. If the Indians were watching, they knew enough to keep silent, and, for all the environed men knew, their foes might be lying within twenty feet of them.
The Dead Chief was acquainted with all the passes through the marsh, and had not for a moment thought of forcing a path through the reeds. The rustling they must of necessity make would apprise the lurking Indians of their vicinity, and put them on their guard. They were rather ready to trust to their woodcraft on shore, but they would have liked to find the exact position of the canoes of their enemies, before striking for the shore. But, though listening carefully, they could hear nothing of the red-skins, and determined to try the land.
The head of the canoe was pushed into a little channel which the Dead Chief knew ran close to the bank, at a good place to land. This was accomplished without a rustle, and Floyd leaped with the chief to the shore, closely followed by his Yankee friend. The canoe was left as of no further use to them, and pushed into the rushes out of sight. This done, the Dead Chief sat down on the bank, and drew his moccasins from his feet, and made Floyd understand by the sense of touch that he was to take off his boots, and put on these. Will hesitated to make the Indian go barefooted through the woods, but the Dead Chief took his hand and pressed it upon the sole of the bare foot. The moment his hand came in contact with the hard and callous foot, he understood that the Indian had a protection there which made a moccasin rather an object of ornament than use. He offered no further objection, but drawing off his boots, he left them on the bank, and put on the moccasins. He understood that the Indian thought the boot a poor thing for a scout to wear. The moment he was ready, the chief again took the lead, bending his body low, and keeping one hand on the ground, carefully removing every obstruction from the path which the less experienced soldier might step on.
Floyd followed, imitating his attitude, and betraying at once a keen sense of woodcraft, and the attributes of a scout. Not a stick cracked, not a twig bent. The Yankee who followed him was surprised at the celerity of his motions, and the quiet way in which he performed his part. Their course led directly away from the river, for they knew that they must make a wide circuit to get away from the Indians, who had doubtless lined the shore with scouts. It was only the extreme darkness of the night, since the moon had gone down, which had allowed them to pass the sentries unperceived. Seth had no doubt that, favored by the darkness, they already had passed one of the guard canoes, but there were two more. One was probably in the center of the marsh around which they were now describing a circle, and the other further down, though where it was, they could not say. Once out of reach of the river by half a mile, the Yankee gave a signal to the chief to wait, and they sat down together in the darkness.
"By jinks," he chuckled. "Had a right nice time of it so fur. I ain't enjoyed myself so mighty well this year. The pizon critters didn't sort o' kalkilate on finding us so foxy, did they? I hev all I ken dew tew keep from laffing rite eout when I think heow I walked intew them cussed thieves arter I tumbled eout of the tree with that ornery critter that would hev that pertickler tree."
"I should think you would be afraid to talk so loud while we remain in danger," said Will Floyd.
"Ain't no danger here, Lord love yew!" replied the volatile scout. "It's glorious work fighting these cussid thieves! Now, look here; thar's lots of good Injins in this created airth, but thar's a pizon heap of bad 'uns. There's my friend, Dead Chief, now; he's what I call a good Injin. And if you raally want a mighty bad specimen, yew jest take up Willimack or the Profit."
"That scoundrel Willimack threatened our family while I was tied to the stake. Do not let us dally a moment, my friend. Think of them I have left in danger—my old father and my darling Madge. He insulted her, most of all, for he designed for her a fate worse than death—a place in his lodge."
"He duz! Now look at me, yew. I'll never stop hunting that pesky critter until I've got his skulp or he's got mine. Take that pooty gal into his lodge, will he? Wants her for a squaw, duz he? Yew jest wait! He won't live to see it, bet yure life he won't! I'm so cussid mad I could hop rite over that tree-top. Oh, holy fly! Hold me, somebody, or I'll go charging back rite intew them Injins, and cut and slash and hack and hew. Oh, bu'st me all to pieces! Take my hat and stamp on it, somebody, I'm so darned mad. Litening strike me intew a blind nigger ef I ain't growed nigh a fool sense yew told me that. Come, let's git along. Ef old man Harrison don't rair rite up on his hind feet when I tell him this, then thar ain't no buffler on the prahary; not a darned buffler."
The party kept out from the river for a quarter of an hour, and then inclined again toward the stream. The Dead Chief still kept the lead, but all at once he stopped and dropped to the earth as suddenly as if he had received a ball in his bosom. The others followed his example and listened, and understood what it was which caused this hasty movement. It was the sound of human voices, just below them. The bank at this point was rather high, and crawling on their hands and knees to the edge of the bluff they looked down. The Indians who held this last guard-boat evidently were not trained warriors, for they had built a fire and were cooking some meat. To be sure, their fire was built in a sheltered nook and could not be seen from the river, but would have called down upon their heads the wrath of the Prophet, if he had known of it.
There they sat, six stalwart young warriors, grouped in various attitudes of ease and comfort about the fire, gnawing the flesh from the bones of a young buck which one of their number had brought down by a well-directed arrow. The flame lighted up their bronzed figures and dark faces, and danced upon their waving plumes and beaded belts and moccasins. They were chatting in low tones over their feast, it being evident that they did not think it possible that the two whites—for they knew nothing of the Dead Chief—could escape from the hands of their companions above. But they had not reckoned upon the fertility of resource possessed by the Yankee scout. Long Seth touched his companions lightly, and they drew back cautiously at least a hundred yards from the dangerous vicinity, where they could converse with ease and not be heard by the Indians below.
"Ain't got much time tew talk 'bout it," said the Yankee. "What do yew say? Thar's six Injins, red with white blood. Shall we give 'em goss or not? If we lick 'em—I'd ingage tew lick the hull bilin' myself—we kin git the canoe tew ride tew Vincennes, and I'd ruther ride than walk, any time."
"I'm for thinning this band as much as we can," said Floyd. "There will not be so many to attack my father's stockade."
"Dead Chief is ready," said the Pottawatomie, in his short way.
"Good enuff!" replied Seth. "Waal, I'll creep down the bank below 'em and come up on the back. You two creep up in front, and jest ez soon as I give my loon-call, yew pick eout two of 'em and knock 'em over. Pick eout the biggest, they ginerally fight the best. I'll give a good account of number three, and then charge 'em like smoke. Them's the sentiments I express upon this momentous occasion. Now for it."
They separated, the chief and Floyd creeping cautiously to the front and making their weapons ready for a shot, and the Yankee moving away rapidly but silently to the left. After allowing five minutes to pass, they heard the loon-call on the river.
Lifting their rifles, each sighted a man and pulled trigger. Down went two of the savages, one shot through the brain and the other through the breast, and with a hearty border shout they grasped their smaller weapons and darted down the bank just as the weapon of Long Seth spoke and a third Indian uttered his death-cry. At the same time the Yankee appeared, and the three closed in upon their enemies, who, like rats in a trap, turned and fought like men.
Singling out an adversary, the determined whites rushed on. Dashing down the weak defense of his adversary, Seth struck him with his fist a blow which seemed to shatter his jaws, for the bones absolutely rattled as he went down.
"Take that, you red devil," he hissed, turning to seek a new foe. But, the struggle was already at an end. The Dead Chief had hurled his hatchet at his antagonist with the skill which only long practice in the use of that weapon can give, and he rolled to the earth, the bright bowl of the keen ax only showing through his skull. Will Floyd, at the expense of a slight flesh-wound in the arm, had buried his dagger in the breast of his own antagonist, and the struggle was over.
Seth knew that no time was to be lost, and darted for the canoe, though for what purpose the chief remained behind the young soldier could guess. When he joined them in the canoe he touched the soldier on the arm and offered him two bloody scalps.
"No, no," said Floyd, pushing back his hand. "I can not take them."
"Two for you, Long Man," said the chief, offering the others to the Yankee.
"I didn't hev time tew wait for 'em," replied Seth, coolly, taking the bloody trophies and thrusting them into his belt. "Thank yew all the same, chief. I reckon yew ain't used tew this sort of thing, cap.?"
"I confess I am not."
"Yew'll git over that. Climb intew the canoe and git hold of a paddle. I reckon we'll hev a hard time of it yit. I hear them devils up above coming down the rushes; hark! Du yew hear that?"
They listened and could hear the dip of paddles upon the river below. They had been mistaken in the number of their enemies after all, it seemed, and they had yet another patrol canoe below the rushes!
"Load up yure rifles, boys, and yew give the pistils fodder if they ain't full already, Will. This old thief, the Profit, meant business when he pitched on us. If we git threw it won't be for lack of head-work."
For some moments nothing was heard but the sound of preparation, as they loaded their weapons. Then the canoe, which was a large one, shot out into the stream, and Spink, who sat in the stern, caught up a heavy stone which lay on the bank and laid it in the bottom of the canoe, close to his feet. "Yew needn't mind the paddle jist yit, Will. Let the chief keep her stiddy, and put her rite on tew the other canoe, old man! I'll fix these heathen, yit."
The canoe was now only a few rods in advance, coming up under the full sweep of the paddles in the hands of half a dozen strong men. The morning was coming fast, but it was still too dark to distinguish faces.
"Put her straight for 'em," said Seth. "I'll show 'em a trick."
As the two canoes neared each other, the Dead Chief shouted to the coming savages in the Indian tongue:
"Who comes?"
"Brothers," replied the voice of the warrior in command. "Have the white dogs been taken?"
"Who can escape the snares of the Prophet?" replied the Dead Chief.
"Are they dead?" demanded the warrior.
"Why should we kill them?" replied the Dead Chief. "Come back and we will see them burn by the same fire."
The canoes were now side by side, and the Indians were trying to peer through the gloom of the morning to make out the figures in the other craft, when Seth rose suddenly, and, uttering a wild cry, dashed the huge stone through their canoe's bottom, tearing a great hole, through which the water rushed in a torrent, and in a moment the Indians were floundering in the water, while the other canoe, impelled by the strong arms of Floyd and Dead Chief, passed on down the river. In spite of the toils which the Prophet had set about them, his prey had escaped.