XXXVII FLIGHT
Louis and Walter decided that Neil's plan was worth trying. They muffledthe axles of the two carts with strips torn from a ragged blanket, andcarefully cased the vehicles over the edge of the coulee. The moon,shining into the rift, lighted them down the steep slope. Along the bedof the shallow brook that ran through the coulee to join the Wild RiceRiver, they pushed and pulled the carts, and left them well hidden amongwillows and cottonwoods where the ravine widened.
"There," said Neil when the job was done, "if those Indians followstraight up the coulee after us, they won't find the carts at all. Ifthey come down here and find them, they may think we have gone backacross the river."
"Probably," Louis returned, "they will divide into two parties, one to goup, the other down the coulee. But if they get all our things they may becontent to let us go."
Hiding the carts had taken less than a half hour. In the meantime Mrs.Brabant and the children had gone down into the coulee, Jeanne and Maxstumbling along, scarcely awake enough to realize what was happening.While the horses were being led down, Walter remained behind as rearguard. As he threw a last armful of fuel on the fire, a burst of hideousnoise came across the prairie from the Indian camp. Howls and yells, tothe thumping of many drums, proved that Murray's medicine dance was infull swing. A picture flashed through the boy's mind; a picture of thatcentral space within the circle of tipis as it must look now, with scoresof naked, painted, befeathered savages, stamping, leaping, yelling aroundthe blazing fires. There was no time to lose.
Mrs. Brabant was impatient and anxious to be away. She had made noprotest at leaving the carts behind. All her household belongings were inthem, but what were blankets and copper kettles, and the precious woodenchest of clothing and little things, compared with the safety of herchildren? She and little Jeanne had been placed on one of the ponies.There were only four horses for ten people. Mr. Perier took Max with himon another, and the remaining two were given to Elise and Marie. Mariecould ride almost as well as her brothers, and Elise had learned sinceleaving Pembina.
It was very dark at the bottom of the coulee among the willows thatfringed the stream. Speed was not possible, and the foot travelers couldeasily keep up with the ponies. Yet there was no doubt in anyone's mindthat this was the only route to take. On the open prairie, in themoonlight, they would be plainly visible from every direction. Here theywere completely hidden. They hoped to be miles away before the Indiansdiscovered that they had gone.
Progress seemed heart-breakingly slow, however, as the little partypicked their way up the bed of the brook in the darkness. Louis, on foot,went ahead as guide. Walter, Neil and Raoul brought up the rear. Thestream was not much over a foot deep at its deepest, with a sticky mudbottom. Luckily the ponies were sure-footed and almost cat-eyed. One oranother slipped or stumbled now and then, but recovered quickly withoutunseating the rider. The night remained oppressively warm. Not a breathof breeze stirred the willows down below the level of the prairie. Paleflashes lit up the narrow strip of sky overhead, and distant thunderrumbled.
The coulee grew narrower and shallower. The brook dwindled to a rivulet,the fringing willows were smaller and met above the stream. It wasdifficult to push a way through. At last Louis called a halt.
"Wait a little," he said. "I will go on and find a way."
Strung out along the narrow streamlet, which scarcely covered the hoofsof the horses, the rest waited for his return. The mosquitoes were bad,and the tormented horses twisted, turned, pawed the mud, and slappedtheir tails about. Walter made his way among the willows to Elise's sideto be at hand if her mount should become unmanageable. But they exchangedonly a word or two. The oppression of the night and the danger lay tooheavy upon them both.
After what seemed a long time, Louis returned. "The coulee ends a littleway ahead," he reported. "The stream comes from a wet marsh that we mustgo around. I have found a place where we can climb the right bank."
Without further words, he took hold of the bridle of his mother's horseand led it through the willows and up a dry gully. The gully was one ofthe channels by which the marsh waters, during spring floods and rainyperiods, found their way into the coulee. The prairie at the head of thegully was dry in July, the marsh being shrunken to dry weatherproportions.
There was a certain relief in being up on the open plain again. For onething there was more light. The western sky was banked with clouds. Overthere lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, but the moon remaineduncovered. Looking back to the northwest across the flat prairie, Waltercould see, against the dark clouds, the glow of the fires in the Indiancamp. A flash of lightning showed the pointed tips of the tipis blackagainst the white light.
It seemed a long time since the fugitives had gone down into the coulee.The boy was disappointed and alarmed to find that they had not comefarther. Had the Indians discovered their absence yet? He scanned theprairie for moving figures. To his great relief he could see not one. Noteven a buffalo or a wolf appeared to be abroad on that wide, moonlitexpanse. Only an occasional puff of breeze stirred the tall grass.
The party were gathered together at the head of the gully. Louis wasspeaking, and Walter turned to listen.
"We can go faster now, but one must go ahead to keep the course and----"
"You must do that, Louis," Neil interrupted. "You are guide. It is yourplace. The two girls will have to ride one horse."
Louis hesitated. "It is not right for me to ride away and leave you threeto follow on foot."
"It is the only way," put in Walter. "The ponies can't carry us all. Theothers can't go on without a guide. You will have to do it, Louis. Wewon't be far behind."
"Neil can guide as well as I can," Louis began.
"I can't and I won't," retorted the Scotch boy stubbornly. "You have yourmother and sisters to take care of, and you are going on ahead."
"One of you boys can take my horse," Mr. Perier proposed. "I am the leastexperienced and the least useful of all." He started to dismount.
"No, no," cried Louis. "You will be too slow with your crippled foot. Youwill hold the others back. You must ride."
"There are the children to think of," Walter added earnestly. "You mustgo with them. Neil and Raoul and I can go much faster on foot than youcould."
"Stop talking and get away," exclaimed Raoul impatiently. "Marie, comeoff that horse."
For once in her life Marie obeyed her next older brother. She took hishand and slipped quickly to the ground. Raoul helped her up in front ofElise. Louis, without further argument, mounted and took the lead. Heknew as well as anyone that they had already wasted too much time inargument.
As Raoul drew back from helping Marie up, his mother bent down from herhorse to throw her left arm about his neck. "God guard you, my son," shesaid softly.
"And you," muttered Raoul huskily.
At first the lads on foot kept almost at the heels of the ponies. Theprairie grass grew high and rank, and there was no beaten path. Theanimals could not go fast, and all three boys were good runners. Butrunning through tall grass is not like running on an open road or even ona well-trodden cart track. They soon tired, and had to slow their paceand fall behind. The ponies were double burdened and far from fresh, butthey were tough, wiry beasts, capable of extraordinary endurance. Whenthey struck firmer ground beyond the marsh, they made better speed. Therear guard fell still farther behind. They tried to keep in the trackmade by the horses, but it was not always easy to do so, especially whenflying clouds covered the moon and left them in darkness.
No rain fell, however. The storm that had been threatening for so longwas working around to the north. The rumblings of thunder grew fainter,the lightning flashes less bright. Before dawn they had ceasedaltogether. A fresh, cool breeze sprang up, billowing the grass andputting new life into the tired boys, as they plodded on, carrying theirheavy muskets. They no longer tried to run, but they kept up a steadywalking pace.
; Dawn showed a line of trees ahead that did not appear to be much over ahalf mile away. Those trees, the boys felt sure, must mark the course ofthe Bois des Sioux. It was from one of the groves on its bank that thestream took its name. The foot travelers had lost the horse track sometime before, but Neil and Raoul had managed, with the aid of the stars,to keep a general course towards the east. The rest of the party werenowhere in sight. Probably they had crossed the river long ago.
Though the trees seemed such a short distance away, the sun was risingabove them before the lads reached the river. Wet, marshy ground hadforced a detour. The stream, where they came out upon it, proved largerand wider than they had expected.
"If we cross here we will have to swim," said Neil, as he looked down atthe muddy water. "I think we are too far down. See there." He pointed tothe opposite shore up stream. "Either the river makes a sharp bend there,or another one comes in."
"It is the Ottertail," suggested Raoul. "That must be where the two cometogether to make the Red."
"It looks like it," Walter agreed. "Anyway this doesn't seem to be a goodplace to cross. We know nothing about the current. We had better go on upand look for a ford."
The boys did not have to go far along the west bank of the united riversto convince themselves that the stream coming in from the east was indeedthe Ottertail. They could see plainly enough that it was larger than thebranch from the south. Single file, with Walter in the lead, they weremaking their way along the bank opposite the mouth of the Ottertail, whenfrom the willows directly in front of them an Indian appeared.
"_Bo jou_," he said, and added a few words in his own language.
Walter, startled, had half raised his musket, but Raoul, who was closebehind him, seized his arm.
"That's a Saulteur, not a Sioux," the younger boy whispered, thenanswered the man in his own tongue.
Neil pushed forward to join in the conversation. He also knew a little ofthe Saulteur or Ojibwa language, though he did not speak it so readily asRaoul, who had played with Indian and half-breed lads since babyhood.Walter, unable to understand more than an occasional word or two--pickedup at Pembina and among the hunters--stood back and looked on.
The sudden appearance of this lone Saulteur near the southern limits ofthe debatable ground surprised him greatly. What puzzled him most,however, was the man's familiar face. Surely he had seen that scarredcheek, where the skin drew tight over the bone, before, but where? On theway from York Factory, at Fort Douglas, at Pembina, at the Company postwhen the hunters were bringing in their winter's catch? Then heremembered. It was at the post he had seen the Ojibwa; not in the spring,but in the autumn. This was the hunter who had been beaten and robbed, ashe was loading his canoe to return to his hunting grounds at Red Lake.What was he doing here?
The Indian was speaking rapidly, in a low voice. Walter caught two wordshe knew, "_Murrai Noir_." Neil swung around, excitement in his eyes.
"Walter," he exclaimed, "this fellow says Murray is his enemy. He isafter Murray to get revenge. Is he----"
"Yes." Walter did not wait for Neil to finish the question. "He is theman Murray and Fritz Kolbach attacked. I know that scar on his cheek. Atthe post they said a grizzly bear once clawed him in the face. How did helearn that Murray was in this part of the country? Ask him."
Raoul put the question and translated the answer. "He was at Pembina justafter the hunt left. Fritz Kolbach and two other DeMeurons were there atthe same time. Scar Face attacked Kolbach, but the other fellowsseparated them. Then Kolbach declared it was Murray who hit Scar Faceover the head, and offered to put him on Murray's trail. He told ScarFace that Murray was near Lake Traverse trading with the Dakotas andpretending to be a medicine man. Some men going from Traverse to Pembinawith carts had seen him. So Scar Face is trailing him."
"Alone?" queried Walter.
"No, he has some young braves with him who want to get a reputation byraiding enemy country. They came down the Ottertail River."
"Where are they?"
"Near here somewhere. I don't know how he learned that Murray was withTatanka Wechacheta's band, but he knew it before I told him."
"Did you tell him that we are running away from them?"
"Yes. Wait a minute."
The Indian was speaking. He pointed up the river and his manner wasearnest and emphatic. When Scar Face paused, Raoul turned to the othersagain.
"He says he has heard that there is a good ford a little way up theriver. That is probably where our people crossed. He thinks that Murrayand the Sioux will follow the horse tracks to the ford. If Scar Face andhis braves lie in wait there, they can get a shot at Murray when he triesto cross. They will take us to the ford in their canoes."
Before Raoul had finished this explanation, the Indian was showing signsof impatience. He turned now and led the way in among the willows. There,where the river current had taken a crescent-shaped bite out of the mudbank, two birch canoes were pulled up. Five young braves, arrayed infeathers and war paint, came out from hiding places among the bushes,where they had been waiting for their leader, who had been for a lookacross the prairie west of the river.
They were a wild and fearsome looking little band. Had the boys not knownthat they were, for the time being at least, on the Saulteur side of thequarrel, they might have hesitated to trust themselves with the warparty. But they had given Scar Face and his comrades information ofvalue, and had nothing to fear from them.