CHAPTER XVI
THE RETURN TRAIL
Henry, with the aid of Boone and Kenton, rolled the trunk of a smallfallen tree to the river. Then he took off his clothes, made them andhis arms and ammunition into a bundle, which he put on the log, saidgood-by to the two men, and launched himself and his fortunes once moreupon the Ohio. He pushed the log before him, taking care to keep itsteady, and swam easily with one hand.
Fifty yards back he looked out and saw the two hunters standing on thebank, leaning on the muzzles of their long rifles. They were watchinghim and he waved his free hand in salute. Boone and Kenton took offtheir raccoon skin caps in reply. He did not look back again until hewas nearly to the northern shore, and then they were gone.
He reached the bank without obstruction, moored his log among somebushes, and, when he was dry, dressed again. Then he went down streamalong the shore for several miles, keeping a watch for landmarks that hehad seen before. It was a difficult task in the night, and after an hourhe abandoned it. Finding a snug place among the bushes, he lay downthere and slept until dawn. Then he renewed his search.
Henry, at present, was not thinking much of the fleet. His mind wasturning to his faithful comrades who had dropped one by one on the way.Both fleet and fort could wait a while. So far as he was concerned, theymust wait. He roved now through the bushes and along the water's edge,looking always for something. It was a familiar place that he sought,one that might have been seen briefly, but, nevertheless, vividly, onethat he could not forget. He came at last to the spot where he andShif'less Sol had sprung into the water. Just there under the bank theshiftless one had drifted away, while he swam on, drawing the pursuitafter him. It had been only a glimpse in the dusk of the night, but hewas absolutely sure of the place, and as he continued along the bank heexamined every foot of it minutely.
Henry did not expect to find any traces of footsteps after so many days,but the bank for some distance was high and steep. It would not be easyto emerge from the river there, but he felt sure that Shif'less Sol hadleft it--if he survived--at the first convenient point.
In about three hundred yards he came to a dip in the high bank, a gentleslope upon which a man could wade ashore. Shif'less Sol, wounded anddrifting with the current, would certainly reach this place and use it.Henry, without hesitation, turned aside into the woods and began to lookfor a trail or a sign of any kind that would point a way. Twenty yardsfrom the landing he found a dark stain on an oak tree, a little higherthan a man's waist.
"Shif'less Sol," he murmured. "He was wounded and he leaned here againstthis tree to rest after he came from the river. Now, which way did hego?"
He tried to make a reckoning of the point at which Tom Ross had beencompelled to turn aside, and he reckoned that it lay northwest. Itseemed likely to him that Shif'less Sol, if he could travel at all,would go in the direction or supposed direction of Tom Ross, and Henrywent northwestward for about a mile before stopping, following a narrowlittle valley, leading back from the river and not well wooded. Thetraveling was easy here, and easy traveling was what a wounded man wouldcertainly seek. His stop was made because he had come to a brook, aclear little stream that flowed somewhere into the Ohio.
Henry again used his reasoning faculties first, and his powers ofobservation afterward. Wounds made men hot and thirsty, and hot andthirsty men would drink cool water at the first chance. He got down onhis knees and examined the grass minutely up and down the brook on bothbanks. He was not looking for footprints. He knew that time would haveeffaced them here as it had done back by the river. He was searchinginstead for a dim spot, yellowish red, somber and ugly.
He came presently to the place, larger and more somber than he hadanticipated. "Here is where Sol knelt down to drink," he murmured, "andhis blood flowed upon the grass while he drank. Poor old Sol!" He wasafraid that Sol had been steadily growing weaker and weaker, and hedreaded lest he should soon find a dark, still object among the bushes.
A hundred yards further he found something else that his eyes easilyread. The ground had been soft when a man passed and, hardening later,had preserved the footsteps. The trail lay before him, clear anddistinct for a distance of about a rod, but it was that of a staggeringman. A novice even could have seen it. The line zigzagged, and thefootprints themselves were at irregular distances. "Poor old Sol," Henrymurmured again. Just beyond the soft ground he found another of thesomber splotches, and his heart sank. No one could stand a perpetualloss of blood, and for a dark moment or two Henry was sure thatShif'less Sol had succumbed. Then his natural hopefulness reasserteditself. Shif'less Sol was tough, enduring, the bravest of the brave. Itseemed to Henry's youthful mind that his lion-hearted comrade could notbe killed.
He continued his advance, examining the ground carefully everywhere, andfollowing that which offered the least obstacle to a wounded and weakman. He saw before him a mass of grass, high and inviting, and when helooked in the center of it he found what he hoped, but not what hedreaded. Some one had lain down there and had rested a long time orslept, perhaps both, and then had been able to rise again and go on.
The crushed grass showed plainly the imprint of the man's body, and thesomber stains were on either side of the impression. But the grass hadnot been threshed about. The man, when he lay there, had scarcely moved.Henry was in doubt what inference to draw. It was certain that Shif'lessSol had not been feverish, or he might have lain in utter exhaustion.
As long as the grass lasted, its condition, broken or swept aside,showed the trail, but when he came into the woods again it was lost.There was no grass here and the ground was too hard. Nor did the lie ofthe land itself offer any hint of Shif'less Sol's progress. It was alllevel and one direction was no more inviting than another. Henry paused,at a loss, but as he looked around his eyes caught a gleam of white. Itcame from a spot on a hickory tree where the bark had been deftlychipped away with a hatchet or a tomahawk, leaving the white body of thetree, exposed for two or three square inches. Henry read it as clearlyas if it had been print. In fact, it was print to him, and he knew thatit had been so intended. Shif'less Sol had felt sure that Henry wouldcome back after his friend, and this was his sign of the road. Shif'lessSol knew, too, that the attention of the tribes would be concentratedupon the fort and the fleet, and the warriors would not be hunting atsuch a time for a single atom like himself.
Henry found a second chipped tree, a third, and then a fourth. The fourmade a line pointing northwestward, but more west than north. He wasquite sure now of the general direction that he must pursue, and headvanced, the chipped trail leading deeper and deeper into a greatforest. At the crossing of another brook he looked for the somber sign,but it was not there. Instead, a short distance farther on, he foundsome tiny fragments of buckskin, evidently cut into such shape with asharp knife. Near them were several of the reddish stains, but muchsmaller than any he had seen before.
It was again a book of open print to Henry, and now he felt a surge ofjoyous feeling. Shif'less Sol had washed his wound at the brook backthere and he had stopped here to bind it up with portions of hisbuckskin clothing, cutting the bandage with his sharp knife. The actshowed, so Henry believed, that he was gaining in strength, and when henext saw a chipped tree he observed the mark carefully. It was about thesame in width and length, but it was much deeper than usual. A piece ofthe living wood had gone with the bark.
Henry smiled. His strong imagination reproduced the scene. There wasShif'less Sol standing erect and comparatively strong for the first timesince the last night of the flight. He had raised his tomahawk, andthen, in the pride of his strength, had sunk it four times into thetree, cutting out the thick chip. Henry murmured something again. It wasnot now "Poor old Sol," it was "Good old Sol."
He lost the trail at the end of another mile, but after some searchingfound it again in another chipped tree, and then another close by. Itstill pointed in a northwesterly direction, more west than north, andHenry hence was sure that he could never lose it long. Soon he came u
pona little heap of ashes and dead coals with feathers and bones lyingabout. The feathers were those of the wild turkey, and this chapter ofthe book was so plain that none could mistake it. Sol had shot a wildturkey, and here he had cooked it and eaten of it. His fever had gonedown or he would have had no appetite. Undoubtedly he was growing muchstronger.
He traveled several miles further without seeing anything unusual, andthen he came abruptly out of the deep forest upon a tiny lake, a genuinejewel of a little lake. It was not more than a half of a mile long,perhaps a hundred and fifty yards across, and its deep waters were veryclear and beautiful.
The chipped trail--the last tree was not more than twenty feetback--pointed straight to the middle of this lake and Henry was puzzled.His own shore was low, but the far one was high and rocky.
Henry was puzzled. He could not divine what had been in Shif'less Sol'smind, and, a tall erect figure, rifle on shoulder, he stared at thelake. Across the water came a mellow, cheerful hail: "Henry! Oh-h-h,Henry!"
Henry looked up--he had recognized instantly the voice of Shif'less Sol,and there he was, standing on the bluff of the far shore. "Swim over!"he called, "and visit me in my house!" Henry looked down toward the endof the lake. It would be a half mile walk around it, and he decided infavor of swimming. Again he made his clothes and arms into a bundle, andin three or four minutes was at the other side of the lake.
As he came to the cliff Shif'less Sol extended a helping hand, butHenry, noticing that he was pale and thin, did not take it until he hadsprung lightly upon the rocks. Then he took it in a mighty clasp thatthe shiftless one returned as far as his strength would permit.
"I'm pow'ful glad to see you, Henry," said Shif'less Sol, "but I don'tthink you look respeckable without some clothes aroun' you. So put 'emon, an' I'll invite you into my house."
"It's fine to see you again, Sol! Alive and well!" exclaimed Henryjoyfully.
"Wa'al, I'm alive," said Shif'less Sol, "but I ain't what you wouldsca'cely call well. A bullet went clean through my side, and that's athing you can't overlook just at the time. I ain't fit yet for runnin'races with Injuns, or wrastlin' with b'ars, but I've got a good appetitean' I'm right fond o' sleep. I reckon I'm what you'd call a mightyinterestin' invalid."
"Invalid or not, you're the same old Sol," said Henry, who had finisheddressing. "Now show me to this house of yours."
"I can't say rightly that it's the mansion o' a king," said Shif'lessSol solemnly. "A lot o' the furniture hasn't come, an' all the servantshappen to be away at this minute. Guess I'll have to show you 'roun' theplace myself."
"Go ahead; you're the best of guides," said Henry, delighted to be withhis old comrade again.
The shiftless one, still going rather weakly, led the way a few steps upthe almost precipitous face of the rock toward some bushes growing inthe crevices. Then he disappeared. Henry gazed in amazement, butShif'less Sol's mellow laugh came back.
"Walk right in," he said. "This is my house."
Henry parted the bushes with his hand and stepped into a deep alcove ofthe rock running back four or five feet, with a height of about fivefeet. The entrance was completely hidden by bushes.
"Now, ain't this snug?" exclaimed Shif'less Sol, turning a glowing faceupon Henry, "an' think o' my luck in findin' it jest when I needed itmost. Thar ain't a better nateral house in all the west."
It was certainly a snug niche. The floor was dry and covered withleaves, some pieces of wood lay in a corner, on a natural shelf was thedressed body of a wild turkey, and near the entrance was a heap of ashesand dead coals showing where a fire had been.
"It is a good place," said Henry emphatically, "and you certainly hadwonderful luck in finding it when you did. How did it come about, Sol?"
"I call it Fisherman's Home," returned the shiftless one, "because methat used to be a hunter, scout, explorer an' Injun-fighter, has to fishfur a while fur a livin'. When I wuz runnin' away from the warriors,with my side an' my feelin's hurtin' me, I come to this lake. I knowedthat jest ez soon ez you got the chance, providin' you wuz still livin',you'd foller to find me, an' so I blazed the trail. But when I got hereit set me to thinkin'. I saw the high bank on this side, all rocks an'bushes. I reckoned I could come over here an' hide among 'em an' stillsee anybody who followed my trail down to the other side. I wuz strongenough by that time to swim across, an' I done it. Then when I wuzlookin' among the rocks an' bushes fur a restin' place, I jest stumbledupon this bee-yu-ti-ful mansion. It ain't furnished much yet, ez I toldyou, but I've sent an order to Philadelphy, an' I'm expectin' a lot o'gor-gee-yus things in a couple o' years."
"And you live by fishing, you say?"
"Mainly. You remember we all agreed a long time ago always to carryfishin' lines an' hooks, ez we might need 'em, an' need 'em pow'ful badany time. It looked purty dang'rous to shoot off a gun with warriors sonear, although I did bring down wild turkeys twice in the night. Butmostly I've set here on the ledge with my bee-yu-ti-ful figger hid bythe bushes, but with my line an' hook in the water."
"Is the fishing good?"
"Too good. I don't s'pose the fish in Hyde Lake--that's what I've namedit--ever saw a hook before, an' they've been so full o' curiosity theyjest make my arm ache. It's purty hard on a lazy man like me to hev topull in a six or seven pound bass when you ain't rested more'n half aminute from pullin' in another o' the same kind. I tell you, they kep'me busy, Henry, when what I wuz needin' wuz rest."
Henry smiled.
"Were you fishin' when you saw me?" he asked.
"I shorely wuz. I'm mostly fishin', an' when I'm fishin' I mostly keepmy eyes turned that way. I've been sayin' to myself right along for thelast two or three days: 'Henry will be along purty soon now. He shorelywill. When he comes, he'll follow that chipped trail o' mine right downto the edge o' the water. Then he'll stan' thar wondering an' while he'sstandin' and wondering I'll give him an invite to come over to mybee-yu-ti-ful mansion,' and, shore enough, that's jest what happened."
Henry sat down on a heap of leaves and leaned luxuriously against thewall.
"You cook at night?" he said.
"O' course, and I always pick a mighty dark hour. Hyde Lake, desarvin'its name, is full o' eight or ten kinds o' fine fish, an' here are somelayin' under the leaves that I cooked last night. I eat pow'ful oftenmyself. Livin' such a lazy life here, I've growed to be what Paul callsa eppycure. Remember them tales he used to tell about the old Romans andRooshians an' Arabiyuns and Babylonians that got so fine they et hummin'birds' tongues an' sech like, an' then the flood wuz sent to drown 'emall out 'cause they wuzn't fitten to live. I don't think hummin' birds'tongues a sustainin' kind o' diet, anyway."
"I remember the tales, but not just that way, Sol. However, it doesn'tmatter."
"Hev a fish, Henry. You've traveled fur, an' I made up my mind from thefust that I'd offer refreshment an' the fat o' the water to anybodycomin' to my house. We kin cook the turkey to-night, an' then eat him,too."
He handed to Henry a fine specimen of lake trout, admirably broiled, andthe boy ate hungrily. Shif'less Sol took another of the same kind andate, also. Henry, from his reclining position, could see through thescreen of leaves. The surface of the little lake was silver, ripplinglightly under the gentle wind, and beyond was the green wall of theforest. He felt a great peace. He was rested and soothed, both body andmind. The shiftless one, too, felt a deep content, although he hadalways been sure that Henry would come.
For nearly a quarter of an hour neither spoke again, and Henry couldhear the faint lapping of the water on the rocks below. It was theshiftless one who at last broke the silence.
"You reached Fort Prescott, o' course?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Henry. "I got in, and I warned them in time. We beat offa land attack, and then they advanced on us by the river."
"What could canoes do against a fort on a hill?"
"They had cannon brought from Canada."
"Cannon! Then I s'pose they battered the fort down with 'em, an' you'r
eall that's left."
"No, they didn't. They might have done it, but they lost their cannon."
"Lost 'em! How could that happen?"
"The boat carrying them was blown up, and the cannon with it."
The shiftless one looked at Henry, and the boy grew uncomfortable,blushing through his tan. Shif'less Sol laughed.
"Ef them cannon wuz blowed up--an' they shorely wuz ef you say so," hesaid, "it's mighty likely that you, Henry Ware, had a lot to do with it.Now, don't be bashful. Jest up an' tell me the hull tale, or I'll dragit out o' you."
Henry, reluctantly and minimizing his part as much as he could, told thestory of the blowing up of the flatboat and the cannon. Shif'less Solwas hugely delighted.
"Them shore wuz lively doin's," he said. "Wish I'd been thar. I'llalways be sorry I missed it. An' at the last you wuz saved by Dan'lBoone an' Simon Kenton. Them are shorely great men, Henry. I ain't everheard o' any that could beat 'em, not even in Paul's tales. I reckinDan'l Boone and Simon Kenton kin do things that them Carthaginians,Alexander an' Hannibal an' Caesar an' Charley-mane, couldn't even getstarted on."
"They certainly know some things that those men didn't."
"More'n some. They know a pow'ful lot more. I reckon, Henry, that Dan'lBoone is the greatest man the world has yet seed."
Henry said nothing. The shiftless one's simple admiration and faithappealed to him. They rested a while longer, and then Henry asked:
"Sol, do you think that we can find Tom Ross?"
"Ef he's alive, we kin. We jest got to."
"I knew that would be your answer. Do you think you will be strongenough to start in the morning?"
"I've been weak, Henry, but I'm gainin' now mighty fast. I didn't suffermuch 'cept loss o' blood, an' me bein' so healthy, I'm making gallons o'new first-class blood every day. Yes, Henry, I think I kin start afterTom to-morrow mornin'."
"Then we'll find him if he's alive, but we'll spend the time until thenin quiet here."
"'Ceptin' that I'm boun' to cook my turkey to-night."
Henry presently climbed to the top of the bank, a distance of eight orten feet above the hollow, but precipitous. It was probably thissteepness that had prevented any large wild animal from using the placeas a lair. It would also make attack by Indians, should any come,extremely difficult, but Henry did not anticipate any danger from themnow, as their attention was centered on the fort and the fleet.
Shif'less Sol followed him up the cliff, and when they stood on the hillHenry noticed again the thinness of his comrade. But the color wasreturning to his cheeks, and his eye had regained the alert, jaunty lookof old. Henry calculated that in a week Shif'less Sol would be nearly asstrong as ever. The shiftless one saw his measuring look, and understoodit.
"My time ez a fisherman is over," he said. "I'll be a hunter, an'explorer, an' fighter of warriors ag'in. But I think, Henry, we ought toremember the hollow, an' keep it ez one o' them places Paul calls inns.Ef we wuz ever 'roun' here ag'in, we might want to drop in an' rest awhile."
Henry agreed with him, and examined the country for a distance of abouta half mile. He did not see any evidence of warriors, but he knew theycould not be far away and he returned to the hollow, where he andShif'less Sol spent the rest of the day, each lying upon a bed of leavesand gazing through the screen of bushes toward the shimmering surface ofthe lake. Nor did they say much, only a word or two now and then.
Henry felt a great sense of luxury. He did not realize fully until nowall that he had been through recently, the mighty strain that had beenput upon his nervous organization, and the absolute freedom from anysort of effort, whether mental or physical, was precious to him.
It was almost the twilight hour when they heard the faint whirring ofwings. Henry looked up through half-closed eyes. A cloud of wild ducks,hundreds of them, settled down upon the lake.
"I'd like to take a shot at them," he said. "There's nothing better thana wild duck cooked as Jim Hart can cook it."
"But I wouldn't shoot jest now if I were you," said the shiftless one,"'cause somebody else is ahead of you."
Henry came at once from his dreamy state and rose to a sitting position.Two Indians were walking down to the edge of the lake. He saw themclearly through the curtain of bushes and leaves. They held guns intheir hands, and their eyes were on the ducks, which fairly blackened aportion of the lake's surface.
"They're lookin' fur food, not scalps," whispered the shiftless one."Tain't likely they'll see my blazed tree, specially since dark iscomin' on."
The two Indians fired into the cloud of ducks, then waded in and took atleast a dozen dead ones. The foolish ducks flew further up the lake andsettled down again, where a further slaughter was committed. Then theIndians, loaded with the spoil, went away.
"Them warriors had shotguns," said Shif'less Sol, "an' they were outhuntin' fur some big war party, most likely, one o' them that's watchin'the fort. But they ain't dreamin' that fellers like you and me arearoun' here, Henry."
The night dropped down like a great black mask over the face of theworld, and Shif'less Sol announced that he was going to cook his turkey.
"I'm tired o' fish," he said, "fish fur breakfast, fish fur dinner, an'fish fur supper. Ef it keeps on this way, I'll soon be covered withscales, my blood will be cold, an' I'll die ef I'm left five minutes ondry land. Don't say a word, Henry, I'm goin' to cook that turkey ef Ilose my scalp."
Henry did not say anything. He thought there was little danger, thenight was so dark, and Sol broiled his bird to a turn over smotheredcoals. When it was done he took it up by the leg and held it outadmiringly.
"I don't believe Jim Hart hisself could beat that," he said, "an' Jim isshorely a pow'ful good cook, I guess about the best the world has everseed. Don't you think, Henry, that ef Jim Hart had been thar to cookwild turkey an' venison an' buffler meat for all them old Romans an'Egyptians, an' sech like, with the cur'ous appetites, always lookin' furnew dishes, they'd have rested satisfied, an' wouldn't hev decayed downto nothin'? 'Pears strange to me why they'd keep on lookin' roun' furhummin' bird tongues an' them other queer things when they could havehad nice cow buffler steak every day o' thar lives."
The two ate the turkey between them, and Shif'less Sol, thumping hischest, said:
"Now, let us set forth. It is Solomon Hyde hisself ag'in, an' he feelsfit fur any task."
They started about ten o'clock, curved around the lake, and traveled ina general northwesterly course. Henry went slowly at first, but when henoticed that Shif'less Sol was breathing easily and regularly, heincreased the pace somewhat.
"What's your opinion about the place where we'll find Tom, if we findhim at all?" he asked.
"Ef we find Tom Ross, it'll be mighty close to the place whar we lefthim. Tom never wastes any words, an' he ain't goin' to waste any steps,either. Are you shore we come along this way, Henry? I wuz runnin' sopow'ful fast I only hit the tops o' the hills ez I passed."
"Yes, this is the place," said Henry, looking carefully at hills,gullies, rocks, and trees, "and it was certainly somewhere near herethat Tom was forced to turn aside."
"Then we'll find him close by, livin' or dead," said Shif'less Solsuccinctly.
"But how to do it?" said Henry.
"Yes, how?" said Sol.
They began a careful search, radiating continually in a wider circle,but the night that hid them from the warriors also hid all signs of TomRoss.
"Tom's the kind o' feller who wouldn't make the least bit o' noise,"said Shif'less Sol, "an' I'm thinkin' we've got to make a noiseourselves, an' let him hear it."
"What kind of a noise?"
"We might try our old signal, the call that we've so often made to oneanother."
"Yes," said Henry, "that is what we must do."