Doc Bell the giant scout was well versed in the geography of the Illinois. He had tramped that vast country at the dead hours of darkness, and, whenever pursued by a foe, he knew where to hide himself from the foeman’s keen eyes. He often boasted that he could secrete himself in certain places, and rest securely there, while the combined tribes of the North-west hunted with the vindictiveness and keenness of the wolf for his scalp.
Therefore, when he suddenly turned aside with Oliver Blount, as related in a preceding chapter, he knew exactly where he was going, and long before the gray light of dawn the twain found themselves in a cave almost directly beneath one of the bush fringed tributaries of the Mississippi.
“This cave is none of the best of hidin’ places,” said the Indian-hunter; “but it was the nearest, an’ seein’ you growin’ weak, Oll, I thought best to take it fur the present. That bullet in yer thigh ar’ goin’ to trouble you somewhat.”
The trader admitted the truth of the hunter’s observation with a groan.
“My leg is getting stiff now,” he said. “While I ran it did not bother me, but now, since exertion has ceased, it is going to make up for the past. Oh, if that accursed ball had missed its mark! Kate! Kate, my child, where are you?”
“Kate will turn up all right, Oll,” said the hunter; “such a gal as she ar’ not goin’ to be harmed by such a dog as Jules Bardue. When she becomes his wife, look for cats and snakes to drop from the moon. They’ll do it then, sartain. But don’t go on about her; think of what I’ve said, and take matters calmly. There’s a God, Oll Blount.”
“A God! Yes, Doc, there’s a God, and from this minute I’m going to leave all to Him. He has saved our lives, and He will certainly watch over Kate. Now, Doc, look at my hurt, and get me on my feet against night, for I want to snatch my child from the hound I once almost whipped to death.”
“I tell you beforehand, Oll Blount, that you won’t git out o’ this hole to-night,” replied the hunter, stooping to examine the trader’s wound. “You must be quiet for a day or so, an’ while you rest here, I’ll hunt for Bob an’ the gal.”
Oliver Blount uttered a groan of disappointment, which admitted the truth of Doc’s remarks, confirmed by an examination of his injuries. The series of actions that followed the shot had irritated the wound, and a serious look overspread the hunter’s face when his eyes fell upon it.
“The army doctors would say you’ve got to die, Oll,” said Bell, “but I don’t say so. You’ve got the worst lookin’ leg I ever did see—no, no, don’t look at it—’twould make you sick. I guess you’ll git along, but you’ll be a cripple. There!” after a long silence. “I’ve fixed you as best I can. I’ll stay with you till night, an’ then— Hark! what was thet?”
The trader started from his pillow of green branches, and looked at the giant hunter, whose eyes were turned toward the gloomy mouth of a corridor, almost directly opposite the main entrance to the cave.
“I didn’t hear any noise, Doc,” said Blount, still gazing at the hunter, whose right hand had noiselessly lifted his rifle from the ground. “You must have been mistaken!”
The giant did not reply, but suddenly started forward. A moment later, however, he returned, leading a young girl by the hand.
“Look here, Oll,” he cried, addressing the wounded trader, “this is what I heard a moment ago. Look at her. Snakes and lizards! ain’t she a beauty! I wonder why she came here, who she is, an’ what she wants.”
“Ask her!” said Blount. “I have never seen her face before. She’s not a Peoria.”
“Nor a Kaskaskia or a Cahokia,” replied the hunter, looking into the black eyes of the Indian beauty, who stood before them as immobile as a statue.
Her face told of immense suffering at no remote time, and her large eyes confirmed the silent story. She was richly clad for an Indian, and reminded the twain of the savage belles to be found in every aboriginal village.
“Girl,” and the hunter’s arm, which had dropped to his side, touched her faultless hand. “Girl, tell the pale-faces who you are.”
A deathlike silence filled the cave after Doc Bell’s words, for the red beauty spoke not. Her eyes were riveted upon the hunter’s face, and not until he had addressed her again did she make motion or sign.
Then she shook her head, and put her fingers to her lips.
“What does she mean, Oll?” asked Bell, turning to the trader with a troubled expression.
“She must either be a mute, or the stubbornest Indian girl I ever saw,” replied the trader. “Make her talk, Doc, or see what ails her.”
Intent upon obeying his companion, the Hercules of the forest turned to the Indian girl again.
“Does the red girl hear what the pale hunter says?” he asked.
A nod answered his question.
“And why don’t she answer him?”
The Indian’s lips parted now, but not a word broke the silence; and as she stepped nearer the hunter, her mouth opened to its utmost capacity, and for a moment he gazed therein.
Then he started back with an expression of horror, and gazing into the trader’s anxious face he cried:
“Great heavens! Blount, she’s tongueless!”
An exclamation of genuine horror escaped Oliver Blount’s throat.
“It’s true as gospel!” said Bell, “an’ more, her tongue has been freshly cut out.”
For a moment the two men gazed with pity upon the tongueless creature that confronted them, and Blount was the first to speak.
“What motive could have prompted such a hellish deed?” he cried. “It surpasses all the cruelty I ever heard of. Doc, can’t you tell what tribe she belongs to?”
At this the giant again approached the girl, and taking her hand gazed scrutinizingly into her face. Then he examined her hand, and when he dropped it, he said:
“She’s a Delaware.”
“And she’s far from home, too,” returned the trader. “She must have fallen in with some fugitive Peorias. Oh, God, I wish she could tell her story.”
The hunter did not reply. He leaned upon his rifle and covered his eyes with his tawny hands. The trader knew that he was thinking deeply, for when he gave himself up wholly to reflection and study, he invariably assumed his present attitude. For several minutes the giant remained silent and when he raised his head it was to fasten his eyes upon the speechless Indian girl.
“Where’s Swamp Oak?” he asked.
At the mention of the name the girl started forward, and griped his arm, while an expression of anxiety and fear overspread her face.
“Ha!” he said, glancing at Blount. “I have hit the right trail. I just happened to think of the girl Swamp Oak sneaked from the greasy Delawares a long time ago, an’ I knew, too, thet thet very gal had enemies who would tear her tongue out, ef they got half a chance, an’ so I thought: might not this gal be the one? If you don’t b’lieve it now, Oll, you will d’rectly.”
Then he confronted the mute once more.
“The red girl met her mother, eh?”
The maiden’s eyes flashed with fire, as she nodded assent, and her hands clenched in vengeance.
“Don’t you see, Oll? Her mother, that infernal Snake Queen, caught her, an’ tore her tongue from her head. It won’t go well with that she devil now if she stalks within range of Doc Bell’s rifle. Curse me if I couldn’t cram her heart down her throat, although I have sworn never to harm a woman. I’m afraid I’m goin’ to break thet oath soon.”
The terrible condition of the beautiful girl before him had raised the hunter’s anger to the highest pitch attainable, and, as he clenched his hands, he fairly frothed at the mouth. When Doc Bell was mad, he was a terrible being, and for a minute he paced the floor of the cave swayed by the uncontrollable passion of anger.
“Girl,” he said, halting very suddenly before the mute, “I’m goin’ to hunt fur your mother, an’ by Heaven I’m goin’ to sarve her precisely as she sarved you. You must stay with my pale friend till I return, for he carries a red-skin’s ball in his body, an’ needs your nursin’. You will stay with ’im?”
The girl—Ulalah—nodded assent, and knelt beside Oliver Blount, asking with her eyes a thousand questions.
“I’m glad you’ve got some one to stay with you, Oll,” continued Bell, addressing the trader. “Now only keep quiet for I’m goin’ to bring Kate right here, an’ then we’ll see if we can’t git to Fort Chartres.”
The trader smiled joyously at this thought, but he could not obliterate the terrible doubtings which had within the last few hours traced deep furrows in his face.
The cave in which the trio had taken refuge from the sharp eyes of their foes, proved to be one of the several situated in the Illinois which the giant hunter had often visited, and among its gloomy recesses he had established a cache. To this, after speaking to the tongueless girl, he made his way, and soon returned to the fire with an iron kettle and several pieces of venison. A lot of this he divided between himself and the trader, while he converted a portion of the remainder into a broth for the victim of a mother’s vengeance.
Ulalah’s eyes thanked the big-hearted hunter a thousand times, and drank the broth with an avidity that told of long fasting.
The day passed away at length, and when Doc Bell returned from a reconnoissance beyond the cave, and declared his readiness to begin his hunt for his friends, and, may be too, for the she fiend, Ulalah griped the trader’s rifle and sprung to her feet.
“What! girl, ain’t you going to stay with Oll, as you promised to do?” cried the hunter gazing in amazement upon the passion ruled form that swayed before him like the wind beset sapling.
She shook her head, and gritted her teeth with determination.
“The white man may die,” said Doc, calmly, gently touching the girl’s arm, “an’ then what would his Lone Dove do? Girl, you will stay with him, to bathe his brow when the fever comes, and to moisten his lips when they cry for water. I will not be long away; I’ll be as swift as the lightning, an’ God helpin’ me as destructive, too! Yes, girl—poor tongueless gir’ stay with the weak man till the hunter comes back.”
His pleadings availed the hunter naught, for Ulalah shook her head more resolutely than ever, and brought her foot down with a firmness that said:
“No more words; I am going with you!”
Doc Bell read the action correctly.
“She won’t listen to any thing, Oll,” he said. “She wants to meet that mad mother ov hers, an’ she’s bound to go with me. I hate to leave you alone, but I’ve got to do it.”
“Go, Doc—go. I can get along. Go and tear Kate from him!”
“Curse the girl—no, I won’t curse her, either, for were I in her fix, I’d want to settle for my stolen tongue, myself. Good-by, Oll. I’ve fixed every thing handy for you—rifle, meat, ammunition and all. Something tells me—”
He suddenly paused and rose to his feet, leaving the sentence incomplete.
He was going to say that an inward monitor told him that they were never to meet in life again, but he would not sorrow the parting with such words.
“Come, girl,” he suddenly cried, turning to the Indian. “If you must go, I’ll take you; but God knows I wish you’d stay with Oll.”
Ulalah started forward at the hunter’s command, and a minute later the stricken trader was the sole occupant of the cave!
And as he saw them disappear, the terrible presentiment that they were never to meet again came over him; and the thought of his daughter’s fate drew a groan from his heart.
Then in silence he lay in the weird light of the dying fire, wishing God-speed to the twain who were hastening through the forest, toward a spot already tragic in the eyes of the reader.