Chapter 12: On the Great Trail

An hour after the little gray bird had announced that it was noon and all was well Henry awoke, and now he sat up. The bird, hearing rustlings below, and feeling that his task of watchman was over, flew away. His song was heard for a moment or two in the boughs of a tree, then it grew faint and died in the distance. But his work was done and he had done it well.

Henry put his hand on Sol’s shoulder, and the shiftless one also sat up.

“You’ve slept a week, Sol,” Henry said.

“That’s a whopper. I just laid down, slept a minute, waked up, heard a bird singin’, then slept another minute.”

“Just the same happened to me, but it’s past midday. Look through the vines there and see the sun.”

“It’s so. How time does pass when the warriors are lettin’ your scalp alone.”

“Wake up, Jim.”

Shif’less Sol poked Long Jim with his moccasined foot.

“Here you, Jim Hart,” he said. “Wake up. Do you think we’ve got nothin’ to do but set here, an’ listen to you snorin’ fur two days an’ two nights, when we’ve got to overtake an Injun army and thrash it?”

“Don’t tech me with your foot ag’in, Sol Hyde, an’ don’t talk to me so highfalutin’. It’s hard to git me mad, but when I do git mad I’m a lot wuss than Paul’s friend, A-killus, ‘cause I don’t sulk in my tent, specially when I haven’t got any. I jest rises up an’ takes them that pesters me by the heels an’ w’ar ‘em out ag’in the trees.”

“You talk mighty big, Saplin’.”

“I’m feelin’ big. I think I’ll go out an’ stretch myself, bein’ ez it’s a fine day an’ these are my woods.”

The talk awoke Paul also and all went outside. Henry and Silent Tom scouted for some distance in every direction, and, finding no sign of an enemy, the five ate cold venison and drank from one of the innumerable streams. Then they deliberated briefly. They must find the trail of the Indian army and they were quite sure that it lay toward the east. If it were there they could not miss it, as a way for the cannon had to be cut with axes. Hence their council lasted only five minutes, and then they hastened due eastward.

Speed was impeded by the creeks and brooks, all of which were swollen yet further, compelling them in several cases to swim, which had to be done with care, owing to the need of keeping their ammunition dry. Night came, the great trail was still unfound, and they thought they might possibly have been mistaken in going to the east, but when they debated it again they resolved to continue their present course. Every probability favored it, and perhaps the Indian army had taken a wider curve than they had thought.

“I’ve had so much rest and sleep that I’m good fur all night,” said Long Jim, “an’ the ground bein’ so soft from so much rain them cannon wheels will cut ruts a foot deep.”

“That’s so,” said Shif’less Sol. “Why we could blindfold ourselves an’ hit that trail. Out o’ the mouths o’ men like Long Jim wisdom comes sometimes, though you wouldn’t think it.”

“All that you are, Solomon Hyde,” said Long Jim, “I’ve made. When I fust knowed you a tow-headed boy you didn’t have sense enough to come in out uv the rain. Now, by long years uv hard trainin’, mixin’ gentleness with firmness, I’ve turned you into somethin’ like a scout an’ trailer an’ Injun fighter, fit to travel in the comp’ny uv a man like myself. Now an’ then when I look at you, Solomon Hyde, I’m proud uv you, but I’m prouder uv myself fur makin’ a real man out uv sech poor stuff to start with.”

“I’m still willin’ to learn, Jim,” grinned Shif’less Sol.

“The trail! The trail!” suddenly exclaimed Henry.

They had emerged from heavy forest into a stretch of canebrake through which ran a long swath, trampled by many feet and cut by deep ruts. Here the cannon had passed perhaps a week ago, and they could follow the ruts as easily as the wheel of an engine follows the rails.

“I ‘low they can’t make more’n ten or fifteen miles a day,” said Silent Tom.

“While we, if we were hard pressed, could go thirty or forty, or more,” said Paul.

“We could overtake ‘em in three days,” said Henry.

“An’ hevin’ done it,” said the shiftless one, “what are we goin’ to do next?”

“It’s the cannon we’re after, as we all know,” said Henry, “and I confess that I can’t see yet how we’re going to get at ‘em.”

“I fancy we can tell more about it when we approach the Indian army,” said Paul.

“There’s no other way,” said Henry. “If we keep close beside ‘em we may get a chance at the cannon, but we’ve got to look out for Braxton Wyatt and his gang, who will be just behind us, on the same trail.”

“Then we go straight ahead?” said Paul.

They followed the great trail nearly all night, under the clear moon and stars, a fine drying wind having taken away all the dampness. As usual Henry led and Silent Tom brought up the rear, the one in front keeping an eye for a rear guard and the one behind watching for the advance of Braxton Wyatt’s force. The trail itself was leisurely. The speed of the cannon had to be the speed of the army, and there was ample time for parties to leave on hunting expeditions, and then rejoin the main band with their spoils.

“They’re living well,” said Henry, as he pointed to the dead coals of numerous fires, and the quantities of bones scattered about “They’ve had buffalo, bear, deer, turkey and lots of small game.”

“It’s an ideal country for an Indian army to travel in,” said Paul. “The game fairly swarms in it.”

“An they don’t spare it neither,” said Shif’less Sol. “These warriors are jest eatin’ thar way down to the settlements.”

“Here’s where they kept their cannon,” said Henry, pointing to a place near the edge of the opening, “and they covered them for the night with strong canvas.”

“How do you know that?” asked Long Jim.

“See this thorn bush growing just beside the place. The edge of the canvas caught on the thorns and when they pulled it away it left these threads. See, here are three of ‘em.”

“But how do you know it was strong canvas?”

“Because if it hadn’t been, more than these three threads would have been left. I’m astonished at you! What have you done with your wits? It was just over there, too, that Alloway and Cartwright sat with the chiefs and held a council. Two or three bushes were cut down close to the ground in order that a dozen men or so might sit comfortably in a ring. They smoked a pipe, and came to some agreement. Here are the ashes that were thrown from the pipe after they were through with it. Then Alloway and Cartwright walked off in this direction. You can see even now the imprint of their boot heels. Moccasins would leave no such trace. It must have rained that night, too, because they spread their tent and slept in it.”

“You’re guessing now, Henry,” said Long Jim.

“I don’t have to guess. This is the simplest thing in the world. One has only to look and see. Here are the holes where they drove the tent pegs. But the two officers did not go to sleep at once after the council. They sat in the tent and talked quite a while.”

“How do you know?”

“More ashes, and on the ground covered by the tent. Evidently they have pipes of their own, as most all English officers do, and they wouldn’t have sat here, and smoked, while on a hard march, if they did’nt have something important to talk about. I take it that the leaders of the Indian army are trying to solve some question. Perhaps they don’t know which of the settlements to march against first.”

“Over here is where they kept the horses fur the big guns,” said Silent Tom. “Mebbe we might git at them horses, Henry.”

“We might, but it wouldn’t help us much. The warriors are so many that, although they don’t like work, they could take turns at pulling ‘em along with ropes. They could do that too, with the wagons that carry the ammunition for the cannon. Come on, boys. It don’t pay us to linger over dead campfires. Here goes the trail which is as broad as a road.”

He led the way, but stopped again in a few minutes.

“They had their troubles when they started the next morning,” he said, as he pointed with a long forefinger.

They saw flowing directly across the road one of the innumerable creeks, swollen to a depth of about four feet by the rain, and with rather a swift current. Hundreds of footprints had been left in the soft soil near the stream, and they examined them carefully. In two places these traces were packed closely.

“About twenty warriors gathered at each of these spots,” said Henry, “and lifted the cannon into the wagons. Look how deep some of these footmarks are! That was when the weight of the cannon sank them down. The Indians could have gone across the creek without the slightest trouble, but the cannon and the wagons delayed them quite a while. Come, boys, we’ve got to do some wading ourselves.”

Reaching the opposite bank they found where the cannon had been lifted out again, and saw the deep ruts made by their wheels running on through the forest.

“I don’t find the traces of no boot heels,” said Silent Tom. “What’s become uv them English?”

“They’re riding now,” replied Henry. “They’re not as used as the Indians to forest marches, and they’ve all been compelled to take to the wagons for a while. But they won’t stay in ‘em long.”

“Why not?”

“Because Alloway won’t want the warriors to look down on him or his men, and the Indians are impressed by physical strength and tenacity. As soon as they’re fairly rested he’ll get out and make all the others get out too.”

In a half-hour he called their particular attention to a point in the great trail.

“All of them got out of the wagons here,” he said. “Look where the boot heels cut into the ground. What’s this? A warrior coming out of the forest has joined them here. Perhaps he was a man sent by Braxton Wyatt or Blackstaffe to tell how they were getting along in their siege of us, and here is another trail, where a dozen warriors split from the band.”

“A huntin’ party, o’ course,” said the shif’less one as he looked at it. “They send ‘em off on ev’ry side, ev’ry day, an’ we’ve got to watch mighty close, lest some o’ them light on us.”

“Still,” said Henry, “when they got their game they wouldn’t come straight back to a trail already old. They’d go on ahead to catch up. It’s lucky that we’ve got plenty of venison and don’t have to do any hunting of our own. Jim, you certainly did noble work as a cook back there.”

“Which reminds me,” said Long Jim, “that I’ll chaw a strip uv venison now.”

“Jim wuz always a glutton,” said the shiftless one, “but that won’t keep me from j’inin’ him in his pleasant pursuit.”

Daylight found them in dense canebrake with the road that the army had been forced to cut for the cannon leading on straight and true.

“We’ll find another camp about a half mile ahead,” said Henry.

“Now that’s a guess,” said Long Jim.

“Oh, no, it isn’t. Jim, you must really learn to use your eyes. Look up a little. See, those buzzards hovering over a particular spot. Now, one darts down and now another rises up. I suppose they’re still able to pick a few shreds of flesh from the under side of the big buffalo bones.”

“I reckon you’re right, Henry.”

They reached the old camp presently, within the indicated distance, but did not linger, pressing on over little prairies and across streams of all sizes. They noticed again and again where the hunting parties left the main army, and then where they came back.

“They’ve lots of ammunition,” said Henry. “They must have the biggest supply that was ever yet furnished by Detroit.”

“Mebbe we kin git some uv it fur ourselves later on,” said Tom Ross.

“That’s not a bad idea, to get ammunition at the expense of the enemy. Their bullets might not fit our rifles, but we could use their powder. We may have our chance yet to raid ‘em.”

At noon they turned aside into the forest and sought a deep recess where they could rest and plan. Foliage and earth were dry now and they stretched themselves luxuriously, as they ate and talked. They reckoned that they could overtake the army on the following night or at least on the morning after, as its progress had been manifestly slower even than they had thought. Taking cannon through the great woods in which not a single road existed was a most difficult task. But every one of the five felt the need of exceeding great caution. Besides the hunters they might have to deal with the party that had left under Blackstaffe and Red Eagle. For all they knew, this band might have taken a shorter course through the woods, and chance might bring on an encounter at any time.

“If they should strike our trail they’re likely to follow it up,” said the shiftless one. “Some o’ ‘em in lookin’ fur game are shore to be far in the rear, an’ them too may stumble on us.”

“‘Pears to me,” said Long Jim, “that we’ve come knowin’ it, plum’ into a big hornet’s nest, but we ain’t stung yet.”

“An’ we ain’t goin’ to be,” said the shiftless one confidently.

Thus did the knights of the forest discuss their chances, and they were as truly knights as any that ever tilted lance for his lady, or, clothed in mail, fought the Saracen in the Holy Land, and, buried in the vast forest, their dangers were greater, they so few against so many.

Knowing now that they had no need to hurry and that to hurry was dangerous, they lay a long time in the woods, and some of them slept a little, while the others watched. But those who slept awoke when they heard the haunting cry of the owl. The five sat up as another owl far to the left hooted in answer. Not one of them was deceived for an instant, as the signals were exchanged three times. Indian, they knew, was talking to Indian.

“What do you think it means, Henry?” asked the shiftless one.

“I’ve a notion that a small band has struck our trail and that it’s signaling to a bigger one.”

“I’m sorry o’ that.”

“So am I, because it will put the great band on guard against us. Our best weapon would have been the ignorance of the Indians that we were near.”

“Ef troubles git in our way we kin shoot ‘em out uv it,” said Long Jim philosophically.

“So we can,” said Henry, “but there goes one of the owls again, and it’s much nearer to us than it was before.”

“An’ thar’s the other answerin’ from the other side,” said Shif’less Sol, “an’ it, too, is much nearer.”

“‘Pears ez ef they knowed more about us than we thought they did, an’ are tryin’ to surround us,” said Long Jim.

“An’ we jest won’t be surrounded,” said Shif’less Sol. “We ain’t trained to that sort o’ thing an’ it ain’t a habit that we’d like.”

“Come on,” said Henry, and, rifle on shoulder, he flitted through the thickets. The others followed him in single file, and they advanced toward a point mid-way between the opposing bands. Their line formed according to its invariable custom, Henry leading, the shiftless one next, followed by Paul, with Long Jim following, and Silent Tom covering the rear.

They traveled now at high speed, and Henry felt that the need was great. He was sure that the bands, besides signaling to each other, were also calling up wandering hunters. The circle about them might be more nearly complete than they had thought. They kept to the darkest of the forest and fled on like a file of phantoms. A rifle suddenly cracked in the thicket and a bullet whistled by. Henry’s rifle flashed in reply and no further sound came from the bushes. Then the phantoms sped on faster than ever.