The Wilderness Fugitives Part 10

"All here?" was his rather curious question.

"All here," replied Ned.

"Boat ready--come along--make no noise."

The four stole forward after the manner of those who knew their lives depended upon perfect silence, and they succeeded in reaching the side of the stream without alarming the sentinel, who still held a position dangerously near the fugitives. Rosa was the first to enter, and she took her place in the extreme end, there being no difference between the bow and stern of such a craft. Immediately after her came Ned, who placed himself as close to her as possible. Then followed the Mohawk, paddle in hand, Jo Minturn locating himself in the prow, so as to give the Mohawk the best position in which to manage the craft, and to "trim ship," as the expression goes.

This was as the red scout wanted matters arranged; and when he grasped the paddle it was with a greater confidence than he had felt at any time during the night. But he had entered upon one of the most perilous attempts conceivable, and he was sure the trick would be detected within the succeeding five minutes. In fact, it was discovered in less than that time; for he had no more than fairly dipped the oar in the water than he heard a low, vibrating whoop from the spot where the Mohawk was stationed. That sound, as Lena-Wingo well knew, meant danger, and was intended as a signal for his companions to hasten to the spot--a signal that was sure to be promptly obeyed when more than a half dozen were on the alert and waiting for just such a call. It was so distinct that the whites accepted it as evidence that their flight was discovered, and pursuit was sure to follow.

Rosa was much frightened, for she felt they had gone so far that they could not return, and it was a question whether they would reach the other side of the river in safety, or be captured on the stream itself, with the probabilities in favor of the latter. Everything depended upon the skill and sagacity of the Mohawk, who showed himself equal to the occasion. At the same instant that the sound mentioned reached his ear, he dipped his paddle deep into the water, and sent the canoe, with one powerful sweep, several rods down the bank, keeping so close to the land that the leaves of the overhanging limbs brushed the heads of the occupants, and compelled them to duck their heads. This done, he allowed the boat to rest, while he listened to learn what his enemies were doing. The sounds that fell upon his ear told him the flight of the boat had been detected, and there could be no doubt that the whole force of Iroquois would be engaged in the hunt in the next few minutes. Without speaking, he dipped the paddle again, and the canoe was driven as far as before down the stream; but, in this instance, he did not permit it to rest, continuing the process until he had gone fully a hundred yards from his starting point. This done, he considered he had reached the point where he could make a change in the direction, and he headed boldly out into the river, aiming for the other sh.o.r.e, which had been their destination so long, and which he was determined to make this time.

The skill with which he controlled and swayed the ashen blade was wonderful. The night was still, without a breath of air stirring the tree-tops, but the instant the boat left the cover of the bank, the faces of the whites were swept as if by a gale. At that rate, the other sh.o.r.e would be made in a very short time, and the action of the Mohawk indicated that such was his purpose, guided, perhaps, by the hope that it might be done before the alarm could reach those grouped on that side.

But they were as vigilant as the ones who had made the discovery of the flight, and a whoop that came from some point ahead warned the Mohawk that the pa.s.sage was not to be as uneventful as he expected. The worst of it was, the reply heard by all in the canoe came from immediately in front, so that they had only to keep on in the direction in which they were going to run straight into ambush. At this time the fugitives were near the middle of the Susquehanna, the night being so dark that they were invisible to any upon either sh.o.r.e, and they were hardly liable to discovery unless some of their enemies should start out upon the river in quest of them. It was obviously the duty of the Mohawk to hold that position, and move up or down stream, as might seem best. The whites supposed he would continue down the current, but, to their surprise, he headed straight against it, and sped upward with astonishing speed.

CHAPTER XVII.

AT LAST!

Up to that time the fugitives, although steadily drifting down stream, seemed to keep directly in the way of the parties whom they were seeking to avoid; for, no matter where they headed, or at what point they aimed, they were sure to find some of the Iroquois waiting to receive them. It looked, indeed, as if the redmen were shrewd enough to make allowance for this fact, judging from the way the attempt turned out in each instance. It was the purpose of Lena-Wingo, in heading up stream, to break through this chain that seemed thrown around them, and there appeared no other way of doing it.

Neither to the right nor left turned he, but swinging his paddle powerfully and noiselessly, he drove the deeply-laden canoe against the current with a force that sent the water foaming from the prow, the soft wash and rustle of the current being the only noise that marked this bird-like flight. Going at such a rate, he did not need much time to pa.s.s over considerable s.p.a.ce, and he was still forging ahead in the same swift fashion when he caught the sound of another paddle. This, then, was proof that the pursuers did not care to wait till the fugitives should land, but had sent some of their warriors out to search for them.

Lena-Wingo recognized the sound as coming from the sh.o.r.e which he meant to reach, but at some distance below them, which fact was proof of his wisdom in taking the course he did. He kept up his flight without the least cessation, and had every reason to hope that the Iroquois were outwitted, when he was more angered than alarmed by hearing the sweep of still another paddle--this time coming from a point above where he was, but on the same side of the river as the former. The Iroquois were making the hunt hotter than he antic.i.p.ated. The Mohawk stopped paddling and looked around in the gloom that shut down on every hand, for there was cause to expect the appearance of other boats, and it was necessary to watch where his own craft was going.

"We have got along very well so far," said Jo, who, not having noticed the evidence of their pursuit, supposed their friend had merely paused to take his bearings.

"Pretty well," a.s.sented the Mohawk, speaking in the lowest key and scanning the stream in every direction.

"Do you think they know where we are?" continued the young scout.

"Know we on river--they find us."

Upon hearing these alarming words, Rosa Minturn straightened up and peered anxiously about, impelled thereto by the manner, more than the utterance, of the leader.

"I think I hear the sound of another paddle," she said in a whisper, turning inquiringly to the Indian.

"Yes, two boats on water; looking for us; maybe find us."

"In which direction is this last one that Rosa noticed, and which I also hear?" asked Ned Clinton, in the same guarded tone.

Lena-Wingo answered by pointing toward the sh.o.r.e a little above a spot opposite where they were lying in the stream.

"Right there--he go 'bout--look for us."

"Yes, and I see him, too!" added Rosa, the next instant.

"There he come!" added the Mohawk, making the discovery at the same moment. "Stoop down, quick! must not see you! Put head low down, so can't see you--make no noise."

His command was obeyed at once. The other canoe having approached near enough to be seen itself, was sure to discover the boat. The heads of Ned Clinton and of the brother and sister were instantly lowered, so that they could not be seen from the outside, and they waited with throbbing hearts for the issue. The occupants of the strange boat descried the Mohawk almost as soon as he saw them, and as he expected they headed straight toward him. The action of Lena-Wingo depended for success on its very boldness, and he went at it with as much coolness and self-possession as if failure was impossible.

Lena-Wingo, being a Mohawk, was also an Iroquois, as much as if he were a member of the Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, or Seneca branch of the powerful confederation known as the Six Nations. His intention was to a.s.sume the character of a genuine enemy of the white race, and to answer whatever questions were put to him in a way to mislead their foes.

Still, this trick had been played so often by him, that it required all the skill of which he was master. It was necessary also that he should not permit the strange canoe to come too near, else the deception would be detected.

As the boat drew nigh, he kept up a slight movement of his paddle, which caused the craft to glide in a slanting direction from the other.

"Where are the pale faces?" asked one of the four Iroquois who sat in the new boat, while the couple were separated by two or three rods.

"How should Magawan know?" asked the Mohawk in return, in a surly voice, as if angry that the question was put to him. "The warriors on the land are squaws, and they do not know how to look for the traitor and the pale faces. They have let them go again."

These words were spoken in the Indian tongue, the accent as clear as that of those who addressed him. There was truth and sense in what Lena-Wingo said, for it was this very suspicion that the Indians were not doing as well as they should that led to the canoe being launched from the other side.

"But they called to us that Lena-Wingo was on the river in a canoe,"

said one of the new-comers, sidling up toward the Mohawk, who was as cautiously sidling away from him.

"They spoke the truth if they said the pale faces have gone off again. I am looking for them."

"Why does Magawan look for them this way?"

"To find them," was the quick response. "Are you searching for them?"

"We have been sent out by Taunwaso, the great chief of the Oneidas, to find Lena-Wingo, the traitor, and the whites."

"Why don't you find them, then? If they are not here they are somewhere else. Go there and find them."

And, as if he were tired of the conversation, the Mohawk dipped his paddle lower than before, and deliberately paddled away from his questioners. The surliness of the repulse made it quite effective, and the four Iroquois sat for several minutes as if undecided what they ought to do after such an interview.

Lena-Wingo knew that he was in great peril, for he believed from the first that the others were not satisfied with the appearance of things.

He shaped his action on the supposition that they would speedily detect the trick and start in pursuit. He kept up the river until he had gone far enough to screen his movements, when he made a sharp bend in the course he was following, and headed for the bank on his right. There was another canoe that was also hunting for them, as will be remembered, and, in case these two should meet, the whole truth would become known at once. Lena-Wingo was not mistaken in his suspicion that he heard the two boats at the same time, showing that they were not only very near, but drawing nearer every minute.

While the Mohawk was paddling in this fashion, striving to make his landing-place as far up stream as he could, he knew the two canoes had joined and that the hottest kind of a hunt was on foot. But there was not a great deal of water between him and the sh.o.r.e, and he quickly made it still less.

"Raise head now--make no noise!" he said, as the water foamed again from the bow of the canoe.

As the fugitives obeyed, they saw they were close to the bank, and the limbs of the overhanging trees were within their reach. Lena-Wingo kept along the sh.o.r.e for some distance further, when one turn of the paddle sent the canoe in so sharply against the bank that it stuck fast, and all were forced forward by the sudden stoppage. The Susquehanna was crossed at last.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE SOUTHEASTERN Sh.o.r.e.