Read Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the Frontier Page 19


  CHAPTER XIX.

  ZANY OR LUNATIC.

  In no respect did the Indian display his matchless coolness morestrikingly than when, amid the terrific exertion he was compelled to putforth, he never ceased his doleful singing, if such it may be called. Itcontinued, indeed, while he was paddling directly against the current,until, when one of his strains was half complete, it ceased abruptly, asif cut in two.

  At the same moment the prow of the craft was turned to the left, and,shooting across the brief space, slid a few inches up the sloping beach.It was evident that his keen eye had detected the recent presence ofpersons there, and with far less fear of them than they had of him heproceeded straightway to investigate matters.

  By this time the boys were less inclined to run. The spiritual edge, soto speak, had worn off, and they saw that it was a material creaturebefore them--a genuine red man, with some of whom they had hadexperience, especially during the preceding hours. They had becomeaccustomed to that business, and could view it with comparativecalmness, inasmuch as each held a loaded rifle in his hand.

  Wharton gently touched the shoulder of his companion as an appeal to himnot to speak or make any sound. The two rose noiselessly to their feetand watched the strange being's actions.

  The prow of the canoe having been forced far enough up the stony slopeto hold it motionless, the Indian laid down his paddle, leaned forward,took the torch in hand, and then stepped from the boat. The torch was apiece of resinous pine, whose top leaned so far over the gunwale thatthere was no danger from the smoking flame. With this in his left handhe looked down at the embers of the late fire, some of them still givingforth a faint blue smoke, and he saw the few remaining fragments of themeal.

  With much deliberation he gazed out over the moonlit lake, graduallycoming back to such a position that when he peered into the gloomy depthof the woods his eyes seemed to be centred on the spot where the twoboys looked silently and wonderingly at him in turn.

  The strange being had no gun, but a knife and tomahawk protruded fromthe belt around his waist. He was dressed similarly to the Shawanoeswhom they had encountered so recently, and there could be little doubtthat he belonged to their tribe.

  No figure could be more picturesque than that formed by this creaturewhen he raised the flaming torch aloft, bent his head down and craned itforward, while his black eyes seemed to pierce the impenetrable gloomfrom whence the boys silently watched him.

  His face was smeared in the truly frightful manner of his people, andhis countenance and features were so irregular that he was forbidding tothe last degree. He stood with one foot advanced, his attitudesuggesting that of a man pausing on the edge of a ravine and peeringacross before venturing to leap.

  He maintained this attitude for several minutes, as motionless as thosetoward whom he was staring. It seemed to Wharton that his flaming blackeyes could look through solid wall or rock, and the youth held his gunready to meet any sudden rush from him.

  But he did not advance. Suddenly he resumed his weird chanting, and thenbegan a fantastic dancing back and forth over the rock, keeping rudetime by swaying the torch and the free arm. The exhibition was sogrotesque that the spectators surmised the truth.

  The explanation of it was that the Shawanoe was a zany or lunatic. Thelatter is as rare with the American race as it was with the African inthe South before the war, but on no other theory could the course of theIndian be explained.

  Neither Wharton nor Larry held a thought of harming him. Had he beenBlazing Arrow himself they would not have done so, except inself-defence. Believing him harmless, they would have been glad to actthe part of a friend toward him.

  Instead of seeking out those who had started the fire, the warriorreturned to his canoe, carefully adjusted the torch in its place, shovedthe boat clear, leaped into it, caught up his paddle, and sent his craftspinning along the left bank, seemingly with the speed of a swallow onthe wing.

  "He's not a ghost," exclaimed Larry, "but he's crazy clear through.Where has he gone?"

  The two stepped to the edge of the water and looked in the directionwhere the boat had disappeared. A short distance away the shore made acurve, and it was this, evidently, which shut the Indian and canoe fromsight. It would have taken rapid motions, but the paddler had proved hisexpertness in that.

  The occurrence caused the boys to forget their drowsy, tired feeling.They became as alert and wide awake as during the day.

  "Larry, let's push on and around the lake. I'm worried now about fatherand mother, and it won't do to lose more time."

  "I'm as willing as yersilf."

  The rocky shore made travelling easy, and they walked with greaterfreedom than at any time since leaving the vicinity of the falls. Theyounger kept his place a few paces in advance, and had not gone far whenhe stopped again with the exclamation:

  "Here's the crazy man again!"

  He was not exactly right, for instead of the Indian he saw the canoedrawn up against the rocky shore, as in the previous instance. Thepaddle was there, but the Indian and torch were missing.

  "I wonder what that means?"

  "Maybe he has grown tired and gone ashore to rest awhile."

  It did not seem likely that the fellow was far away, and they lookedcuriously in every direction. He had not resumed his chanting afterleaving the scene of the boys' camp, and he was nowhere in sight.

  There is no telling what fancy may enter the head of a lunatic, and,much as the couple would have disliked to harm him, they were alwaysready to defend themselves.

  Doubtless it was the sight of the fire by which Wharton cooked the fishthat led the Shawanoe to paddle his craft across the lake. It is notlikely that the whole performance was meant to frighten away theintruders.

  "I don't think we have anything to fear from him," remarked Wharton,after they had waited several minutes; "we may as well use our time inpushing on."

  "It's a long thramp we have before us."

  The two looked up the lake toward the end where the wild waters rushedthrough the gorge. The outlook was discouraging, for, light as was themoonlight, they could see nothing of the dark line of forest which musthave marked the uttermost boundary.

  Wharton drew a deep sigh.

  "I'm tempted to turn back; we can follow the stream and find the trailagain, while now there's no telling where we may bring up."

  "I've a better idea," said Larry, with a chuckle.

  "What's that?"

  By way of answer he pointed to the canoe, whispering:

  "The paddle is there."

  "We'll do it; it will save us a good deal of hard work, and perhapsprevent our going astray. But the owner will be likely to object."

  "How can he help himself?"

  "All right; in with you; there's no saying when he'll be back again."

  Larry Murphy was as deft in handling the paddle as his companion, and atthe same moment shoved the prow clear and leaped in. He made a couple ofsweeps with the implement, which sent the boat far out over the gleamingsurface.

  It was well that they were so prompt in their movements, for the nextminute the red man burst from the woods, and came rushing and chatteringtoward them as if he intended to overhaul them by swimming. His wordswere unintelligible, being in his native tongue, but there was nomistaking his wrath.

  "I belave the gintleman is excited," remarked Larry, swinging the paddlemore leisurely.

  "It looks that way----"

  "Sh! mind your eye!"

  Something whizzed by the head of Wharton and splashed in the waterbeyond. It almost grazed his cheek, and seemed to be like a cannon ball.For all purposes it might have been considered such, for had it struckthe youth, the result would have been fatal.

  The crazy Indian had hurled a large stone with prodigious force andaccuracy. Little need, it would seem, of such a thrower carrying afirearm.

  As Wharton turned his affrighted gaze around he saw the fellow about tohurl another.

  "Gracious! he will kill us," exclaimed the y
outh, bending his headforward to dodge the terrible missile.

  "No, he won't, ayther."

  As Larry spoke he dropped his paddle, caught up his rifle, and, pointingtoward the red man, fired.