The Hunters of the Ozark by Edward Sylvester Ellis (ready to read books .TXT) 📖

me," said he, after they had walked some distance further; "can't ye give some explanation that will relaave me mind, Fred?"

"I can certainly know no more about it than you do."

"Didn't ye obsarve them with particularity?"

"I can't say that I did; they were rather small, tough-looking; two were bay in color, while one was black: I noticed the black one more than the others, because the Indian that I hit was riding on him; I remember that he had a star in his forehead."

"Who? The Winnebago?"

"You know well enough that I meant the horse----"

Fred Linden stopped short, and turned his white, scared face upon his friend. He had just awakened to an astounding fact.

"What's the matter, Fred? Are ye ill?"

"My gracious! why didn't I think of that before? Those three horses belong to father, Mr. Hardin and Mr. Bowlby."

"Are ye sure of the same?"

"Why, of course; I can't understand why I did not notice it the moment I saw them!"


CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE CANOE.

It certainly was remarkable that when Fred Linden was watching the three Winnebagos so closely, and when, as I have said, he noticed more than one trifling matter, that he failed to recognize the animals they were riding. All three were familiar to him, and the one he had spoken of as being darker in color than the others, and as having a star in his forehead, was the identical animal owned by his father. Fred, himself, had ridden him more than once.

It should be said, however, that they were the pack-horses, which even when put to their best paces, could not make good speed. Nevertheless, they were of great value to the hunters.

The first conviction of the lad on awaking to the alarming fact, was that his father and the other two men had been killed by the Winnebagos. The thought overcame him so that he leaned against the nearest tree and was on the point of fainting.

"They are all dead, Terry--I know it--we may as well give up, and try to reach home."

Terry was agitated, but not so much so as his friend.

"Why, my dear boy, it's not so bad as _that_," he said feelingly; "do ye not moind that whin the gintlemen go to trappin' and huntin' they turn the horses loose to graze? The spalpeens have coom along and run off with the same."

"Do you think so?" asked Fred, looking up yearningly for the grain of comfort that his companion was able to give.

"I don't _think_ so; I know so; if the gintlemen took the bastes into the cabin and slipt with the same ivery night, as me rilatives do with their pigs in Ireland, why ye might think that they had suffered before the Winnebagos tuk thim away; but they have snaaked up where the animals was grazin', jumped onto their backs and rid off."

This view of the case was so reasonable, that Fred rallied and half smiled at his own faintheartedness. He stood erect and drew a deep breath of satisfaction.

"I believe you are right, but it strikes me that such thieves would have stolen all instead of half the horses."

"They've lift the ither three for their frinds that I make no doubt will be along to take thim, if they haven't done so now."

"You know that the loss of a horse is considered almost as bad as the loss of a man in this part of the world."

"Sometimes he amounts to a good deal more, as me mither--"

Terry paused in his remarks, for just then Fred uttered a warning--"_Sh!_" to signify that something was in the path in front. The next moment, he ran several paces to the right and sheltered himself behind a tree, Terry being only a few seconds behind him.

Both had discovered what it was. A brown bear of moderate size was waddling along toward them. He had probably struck the trail, and finding it easier walking than among the trees and undergrowth, was swinging forward in the direction of the stream that had received such a visit from the cyclone.

The boys could not know for a minute or two whether the beast had seen them, but they felt no alarm. As I have said, he was not very large nor formidable looking, and, if he chose to turn aside to attack them, they were more than his equal. As it was, their own eagerness to get forward was all that prevented them from shooting him.

Bruin lumbered ahead in his awkward way, and, as the boys peeped forth, they fancied that his big brown eyes glanced mischievously at them; but they were mistaken. He did not see nor scent them, but went by, and, in a few minutes, disappeared from sight among the trees.

Hardly waiting till he had vanished, the youths stepped back into the path and resumed the rapid pace at which they had been traveling. The sun, that had been partly shining from behind the clouds, was low in the sky, and it was not long before they were journeying in the twilight. The moon rose early, but its light was so much obscured by the mists that it gave little if any help, and the friends were disappointed to find it difficult to make any progress at all.

At this trying juncture, they found themselves once more on the bank of a stream that had to be crossed before they could go any further. It was fully double the width of the one last passed, but did not look as if it was deep.

"My clothes ain't all dry yit," said Terry, "and I'm in favor of wadin' if we can."

"I am afraid it is too deep for that, and with our guns and bundles and thick clothes it isn't an easy thing to swim. Besides it's colder than it was last night and it won't be pleasant to spend a few more hours in wet clothing: mine is about dry."

Fred added that if they should decide to push on, the only way of doing so was by the usual means of a raft. It would take considerable time to build one, and probably still longer to work their way to the other side.

"No use of waitin'," said Terry; "let's take hold; I've an idaa that we ain't far from the cabin and ivery mile that we can make now counts."

Fred started to give his help, when to his unbounded amazement, he narrowly missed going headlong over a small Indian canoe that lay at their feet. They would not have been more surprised had they come upon Deerfoot himself in a sound slumber, and not until they had stooped down and examined it closely were they certain that it was not some log fantastically shaped by nature that had floated thither.

But an Indian canoe it was beyond all mistake, though after searching all around it, they failed to find the paddle so necessary for its propulsion. The boat had been drawn up the bank, underneath some bushes and undergrowth, where it would not have been seen by any one further off than six feet. It was so far back too from the stream that it would require an unusual overflow to carry it away.

It was not so dark that the lads could not see that it was of beautiful pattern and fine make--one of those delicate vessels which under the skillful guidance of its owner skim like a swallow over the water. It was a prize indeed.

Now, as you very well know, there is nothing wonderful about an Indian canoe, but the astonishment of the boys came from the fact that they found it in this place. Fred Linden, in listening to the accounts given by his father on his return in the spring from his trapping expeditions, had heard him say more than once that there was no Indian village between Greville and the camp at the foot of the Ozarks, and that, according to the friendly red men who occasionally visited them, he believed that the nearest lodge lay nearly two hundred miles to the north-west of Greville. It was this fact that gave the Hunters of the Ozark so much confidence in themselves when they went on their long hunts, though, as you have learned, danger did sometimes come from the wandering Indians, the father of Terry Clark having lost his life at their hands.

All this being known to the boys, they had cause to wonder how it was that an Indian canoe lay hidden under the bushes on the shore. None of those people would go to the trouble of making such a boat, unless he expected to use it many times. It would be the same as if you had a costly rowboat constructed with which to cross only once a canal or small stream of water.

But, as in many other cases, it was idle to speculate, and the boys did not allow any feeling of surprise to rob them of the valuable minutes. Finding no paddle with which to manage the boat, Fred cut a small sapling and trimmed it so that he had a pole fully twenty feet long. Then the guns were laid in the bottom, Terry took his seat, and they carefully pushed from shore, Fred managing the pole.

As they suspected, the water was quite shallow, the depth nowhere being more than three or four feet; but the current was rapid, and in some places the bottom of the canoe grated over the gravel. Both had to move well to the stern to raise the bow, so as to allow them to reach land with dry feet.

"It's a pity to allow this to float off and be lost," said Fred; "let's draw it up the bank where the owner won't have any trouble in finding it."

"I would give a good deal if I could be introduced to that same gintleman," remarked Terry, who took off his cap and scratched his head as he added:

"I wonder whither that is one of the canoes from near home?"

"What are you talking about? How could it get _here_?"

"By some subterranean communication, the same as we boys used to sind notes to the gurls whin I was laarnin' the higher mathematics in college."

Fred made no comment upon the remark of his friend. The canoe, when relieved of their weight, was so light that the bow was pulled to the shore by means of the pole. Then Fred alone drew it up beyond the reach of the water, and it was left until the owner should come forward to claim it.

The two now set out to hunt for the trail, with a view of making eight or ten miles more before they stopped to rest; but the result was discouraging. It took more than a half hour to make sure they had found it, and then they had not gone twenty yards, when Fred said he could not tell whether he was in the path or not.

"It's no use," he added; "we may as well stop, for we are sure to repeat the mistake of to-day: we'll get so far wrong that it'll take many hours to find our way back again, and we shall lose far more than we gain."

"That bein' the same--and I'm willin' to agraa that ye are now strivin' to till the truth--let's turn off from the trail, go back so far that there isn't any chance for