The Wilderness Fugitives - Edward Sylvester Ellis (e reading malayalam books TXT) 📗

the time being, and he stalked off like some leader of his clan. The apprehension that he was misleading them was quieted by the confidence which the Mohawk showed in his offer.

"I don't think there's any Indians or Tories about here, and the Lord be thanked," remarked the settler, who found it about impossible to hold his tongue when it was once loosed; "but it will be well to act as if there was danger at every turn now. I advise you all to do like me--and that is, not to speak a word when on the way through the woods--for I tell you that it is the easiest thing in the world to let a whole tribe know your poking round--"

"Be still!" struck in the Mohawk, evidently angered, where the others were only amused. "Talk too much!"

This peremptory summons to put a check to his clatter was accepted in the most philosophic manner by the individual for whom the command was intended.

"That's what I have always maintained," he said. "People are ever inclined to use their tongues more than they ought."

"Is your gun loaded?" asked Lena-Wingo, in a more considerate manner.

"Yes. I have got a double charge in her."

Thereupon the Indian whispered to Ned Clinton and Jo Minturn to drop quietly behind, doing it in such a way that their disappearance would not be noticed by their vaunting leader. The hint was acted upon and within five minutes from the time it was given, Mr. Perkins was conducting only the red scout through the forest, while he supposed the three were directly in the rear of him, awed and speechless by the stunning observations he was continually making for their benefit.

"As I was about to remark when you interrupted me," continued the loquacious settler, "there is no fault more frequent than that of using the tongue when it should be permitted to rest, and the Lord be thanked that weakness can never be laid to my charge. When Mrs. Perkins and me was a-coming to our retreat in the woods, she was so inclined to talk that I had to admonish her several times it was likely to get us into trouble. But law me! who ever heard of a handsome young lady that would take any advice about talking? Mrs. Perkins is very sensitive on that subject, and she chose to disregard what I said, and what was the consequence? Why, my friends--it wasn't five--certainly not ten--minutes after that, while we were picking our way along as best we could--What's that?"

The settler paused in his walk and talk, like one who was suddenly apprised that he was on the brink of some peril.

"What's that?" he repeated in a whisper, turning his head toward the Mohawk, who was dimly discernible in the gloom.

"Iroquois Indian look for you."

"Good heavens and earth! You don't think so, do you?" fairly gasped the man, trembling with affright.

"He Indian--he hear you talk--he come look for you."

"Oh, heaven! It won't do for me to stay here," whispered the poor fellow, beginning a cautious retreat that brought him into collision with the Mohawk, who was standing perfectly still, as if listening for something that would tell him what the real danger was.

Lena-Wingo threw him off with such force that he stumbled forward upon his hands and knees.

"What the blazes are you doing?" demanded the indignant Perkins, scrambling to his feet. "What's the use of knocking a feller over that way?"

By this time he was erect and gazing, or rather glaring, back into the gloom, as if to make sure where his man was standing and then demolish him. But, to his amazement, his man was not to be seen; he had fled,--driven away, as the settler believed, by the fear of the other Indians that were so near at hand. Perkins was silent for a moment, not knowing what he should do. Then he called the name of the Mohawk in a cautious tone:

"Hello! Leaner-Winger, where are you?"

But the silence gave no token, and he pronounced the name of Ned, Jo and Rosa in turn, without any further success.

"They've all left me," he muttered angrily. "All of them together haven't the courage that I have alone. Wall, I can get along without them if they can without me; but if there are Indians, I'll bet they'll be sorry they gave me the slip. It ain't every party that's lucky enough to have a man of my experience and skill and courage to help them out of trouble--blazes!"

The bravery of the settler, which had been growing during the silence succeeding the first alarm, suddenly collapsed when his ear caught a sound, precisely as if some one was stealing over the leaves toward him. There must be real danger after all!

"Who's there?" called Perkins, in a shiver. "If you don't answer I'll shoot."

Nevertheless, no answer was evoked by such a threat and the settler made up his mind that if he could not effect an orderly retreat he must make some kind of a fight. Accordingly, he peered ahead in the darkness, seeking a view of the crouching redskin, with the purpose of giving him the whole charge of the musket.

"I hope there ain't more than one of them, for if there happens to be," he said to himself, "I ain't likely to get a chance to reload before they come down on me. It was an infernal mean piece of business in that crowd to sneak off that way and leave me in the lurch just when I was likely to need their help."

While he was muttering in his endless fashion, he was still retreating as stealthily as possible, hoping to get far enough off from the dangerous spot to give himself a chance to make a run for some safe concealment. He had taken only a step or two, when he was hailed from somewhere in the gloom ahead.

"Stop, white man, or me take scalp!"

The settler paused at this fearful summons and his knees smote together.

"Wh-wh-what do yo-yo-you want?" he stammered, hardly conscious of what he was saying.

"Want your scalp, white man."

"Thunderation! I hain't got any! My wife pulled out all my hair the first week we were married. I'm bald-headed, so what's the--"

"Stop!" broke in the voice of the hidden Indian, who seemed to know that he was trying to steal away.

"Well, what do you want?" asked the victim, showing a disposition to argue the matter.

"Want your scalp! Come up--hand it to me."

This was more than flesh and blood could stand. With a howl of terror the settler whirled around and dashed into the depths of the forest, never pausing long enough to notice that the voice which addressed such terrifying words to him was that of Lena-Wingo, the Mohawk.


CHAPTER X.

ON THE RIVER.

After the unceremonious flight of Mr. Perkins, the whites gathered around the Mohawk and expressed a fear that their little joke had resulted in the loss of the boat which the frightened settler was about to place in their possession. But the Indian assured them there was no loss on that account, as he knew the precise point where, if there was any boat within reach, it would be found. He proved the truth of what he said by leading them to the shore of the river, where, sure enough, the very thing for which they were looking was discovered.

"I feel like forgiving Ike for all those tremendous yarns he told us," said Clinton, when the prize was found.

"Well, I don't think he has suffered any harm beyond a good scaring, which he deserved," added Rosa, who enjoyed the discomfiture of the settler as much as did the Mohawk himself.

When they came to examine the vessel more carefully, however, there was some disappointment; for, instead of being a neat, clean canoe, like the one in which the girl had spent a portion of the day, it was a very ordinary structure, known along the rivers of the eastern part of the country as a "scow," and which under any circumstances was incapable of any speed. It was not propelled in the same manner as a canoe, the only implement being a long pole, so that if they should happen to get beyond their depth, they would be totally at sea. The only good quality it appeared to possess was that it was perfectly tight,--a quality not often seen in crafts of its class,--and the bottom was without a drop of water. Ned and Jo were so disappointed in the boat that they proposed, in the same breath, that they should look further before making the attempt to reach the other side.

"Suppose we were seen by Colonel Butler or any of his men," said Jo. "We would be at their mercy. It strikes me as very likely that we may encounter them, and what will we do, with nothing but a pole to push the old thing through the water?"

"I am of the same opinion," said Ned. "It will be a hard task to work our passage over, any way, not to mention the danger of being seen by some of the Iroquois. What do you think, Rosa?"

"I don't fancy a voyage in such a vessel; but the river is not very wide, and I am afraid that if we stop to hunt up another, to-morrow morning will find us on this side of the Susquehanna."

While these words were passing between the three, the Mohawk stood somewhat apart, silent, grim, and listening. He appeared interested in what was said, but showed no inclination to say anything until directly appealed to.

"Are you satisfied to trust yourself in such a craft?" asked Jo, as he faced the silent one. "Tell us what you think of it."

They were now entirely out of the forest, so that the faint light of the moon enabled them to see each other's faces quite well. When Lena-Wingo was appealed to, it was natural that the others should look him full in the face and, as they did so, each saw the old grin with which they were becoming so familiar.

"Lena-Wingo say nothing," was the unexpected reply of their guide, who still leaned on the pole as if waiting for the others to finish their discussion and enter the boat.

"But you must say something," persisted Jo; "you don't suppose we are going to let our haste to cross blind us to the means we use."

"If want to go over t'other side, Lena-Wingo push over--if don't want to go in boat, Lena-Wingo wait and get t'other boat."

This answer was hardly more satisfactory than the first, and Jo refused to accept it as an answer at all.

"We aren't going to let you get out that way," continued the young scout; "we want a reply to the question I put to you."

Without relaxing the broad grin on his painted face, the Mohawk said:

"Lena-Wingo take over in this boat, if want to go."

Jo was half angry, and was on the point of saying something impatient, when his sister interfered.

"Lena-Wingo has answered your question, Jo; he says that he will take us across in this boat, if we want him to, and I'm sure that is as plain an answer as any one could ask for."

"It isn't as clear as I want, but if you are satisfied I'm certain that Ned and I are