The Young Trailers: A Story of Early Kentucky

  CHAPTER IV

  THE HAUNTED FOREST

  As the two boys sat before their camp fire that night, after makingtheir plan, they were far from feeling gloomy. Another revulsion hadcome. Safe, for the moment, after their recent run for life, it seemedto them that they were safe for all time. They were rested, they hadeaten good food in plenty, and the fire was long since but a dim redblur on the horizon. Ashes, picked up by wandering puffs of wind, stillfloated here and there among the burned tree trunks, and now and then ashower of sparks burst forth, as a bough into which the flames had eatendeep, broke and fell to the ground; but fear had gone from the lads,and, in its place, came a deep content. They were used to the forest,and in the company of each other they felt neither loneliness nordespair.

  "It's good here," said Paul who was a reader and a philosopher. "I guessa fellow's life looks best to him just after he's thought he was goingto lose it, but didn't."

  "I think that's true," said Henry, glancing toward the far horizon,where the red blur still showed under the twilight. "But that was just alittle too close for fun."

  But his satisfaction was even deeper than Paul's. The wilderness and itsways made a stronger appeal to him. Paul, without Henry, would have feltloneliness and fear, but Henry alone, would have faced the nightundaunted. Already the great forest was putting upon him its magicspell.

  "Have you eaten enough, Paul?" he asked.

  "I should like to eat more, but I'm afraid I can't find a place for it,"replied Paul ruefully.

  Henry laughed. He felt himself more than ever Paul's protector andregarded all his weaknesses with kindly tolerance. There the two layawhile, stretched out on the soft, warm earth, watching the twilightdeepen into night. Henry was listening to the voice of the wilderness,which spoke to him in such pleasant tones. He heard a faint sighing,like some one lightly plucking the strings of a guitar, and he knew thatit was the wandering breeze among the burned boughs; he heard now andthen a distant thud, and he knew that it was the fall of a tree, intowhose trunk the flames had bit deeply; as he lay with his ear to theearth he heard more than once a furtive footfall as light as air, and heknew that some wild animal was passing. But he had no fear, the fire wasa ring of steel about them.

  Paul heard few of these sounds, or if hearing them he paid no heed. Thewilderness was not talking to him. He was merely in the woods and he wasvery glad indeed to have his strong and faithful comrade beside him.

  The twilight slipped away and the night came, thick and dark. The redblur lingered, but the faintest line of pink under the dark horizon, andthe scorched tree trunks that curved like columns in a circle aroundthem became misty and unreal. Despite himself Paul began to feel alittle fear. He was a brave boy, but this was the wilderness, thewilderness in the dark, peopled by wild animals and perhaps by wildermen, and they were lost in it. He moved a little closer to his comrade.But Henry, into whose mind no such thoughts had come, rose presently,and heaped more wood on the fire. He was merely taking an ordinaryprecaution, and this little task finished, he spoke to Paul in a vein ofhumor, purposely making his words sound very big.

  "Mr. Cotter," he said, "it seems to me that two worthy gentlemen likeourselves who have had a day of hard toil should retire for the night,and seek the rest that we deserve."

  "What you say is certainly true, Mr. Ware," responded Paul who had alively fancy, "and I am glad to see that we have happened upon an inn,worthy of our great merits, and of our high position in life. This, yousee, Mr. Ware, is the Kaintuckee Inn, a most spacious place, noted forits pure air, and the great abundance of it. In truth, Mr. Ware, I mayassert to you that the ventilation is perfect."

  "So I see, Mr. Cotter," said Henry, pursuing the same humor. "It isindeed a noble place. We are not troubled by any guest, beneath us inquality, nor are we crowded by any of our fellow lodgers."

  "True! True!" said Paul, his bright eyes shining with his quick spirit,"and it is a most noble apartment that we have chosen. I have seldombeen in one more spacious. My eyes are good, but good as they are Icannot see the ceiling, it is so high. I look to right and left, and thewalls are so far away that they are hidden in the dark."

  "Correctly spoken, Mr. Cotter," said Henry taking up the thread of talk,"and our inn has more than size to speak for it. It is furnished mostbeautifully. I do not know of another that has in it so good a larder.Its great specialty is game. It has too a most wonderful and plenteoussupply of pure fresh water and that being so I propose that we get adrink and go to bed."

  The two boys went down to the little brook that ran near, and drankheartily. They then returned within the ring of fire.

  They were thoroughly tired and sleepy, and they quickly threw themselvesdown upon the soft warm earth, pillowing their heads on their arms, andthe great Kaintuckee Inn bent over them a roof of soft, summer skies.

  But the wilderness never sleeps, and its people knew that night that astranger breed was abroad among them. The wind rose a little, and itssong among the burned branches became by turns a music and a moan. Thelast cinder died, the earth cooled, and the forest creatures began tostir in the woodland aisles where the fire had passed. The disaster hadcome and gone, and perhaps it was already out of their memories forever.Rabbits timidly sought their old nests. A wild cat climbed a tree,scarcely yet cool beneath his claws, and looked with red and staringeyes at the ring of fire that formed a core of light in the forest, andthe two extraordinary beings that slept within its shelter. A deer camedown to the brook to drink, snorted at the sight of the red gleam amongthe trees, and then, when the strange odor came on the wind to itsnostrils, fled in wild fright through the forest.

  The news, in some way unknown to man, was carried to all the forestcreatures. A new species, strange, unexplainable, had come among them,and they were filled with curiosity. Even the weak who had need to fearthe strong, edged as near as they dared, and gazed at the singularbeings who lay inside the red blaze. The wild cat crawled far out on thebare bough, and stared, half afraid, half curious, and also angry at theintrusion. He could see over the red blaze and he saw the boys stretchedupon the ground, their faces, very white to the eye of the forest,upturned to the sky. To human gaze they would have seemed as two dead,but the keen eyes of the wild cat saw their chests rising and fallingwith deep regular breaths.

  The darkness deepened and then after a while began to lighten. Abeautiful clear moon came out and sheathed all the burned forest ingleaming silver. But the boys were still far away in a happyslumberland. The wild cat fled in alarm at the light, and the timidthings drew back farther among the trees.

  Time passed, and the red ring of fire about Paul and Henry sank. Hastyand tired, they had not drawn up enough wood to last out the night, andnow the flames died, one by one. Then the coals smoldered and after awhile they too began to go out, one by one. The red ring of fire thatinclosed the two boys was slowly going away. It broke into links, andthen the links went out.

  Light clouds came up from the west, and were drawn, like a veil, acrossthe sky. The moon began to fade, the silver armor melted away from thetrees, and the wild cat that had come back could scarcely see the twostrange beings, keen though his eyes were, so dense was the shadow wherethey lay. The wild things, still devoured with curiosity, pressednearer. The terrible red light that filled their souls with dread, wasgone, and the forest had lost half its terror. There was a ring of eyesabout Henry and Paul, but they yet abode in glorious slumberland,peaceful and happy.

  Suddenly a new note came into the sounds of the wilderness, one thatmade the timid creatures tremble again with dread. It was faint and veryfar, more like a quaver brought down upon the wind, but the ring of eyesdrew back into the forest, and then, when the quaver came a second time,the rabbits and the deer fled, not to return. The lips of the wild catcontracted into a snarl, but his courage was only of the moment, hescampered away and he did not stop until he had gone a full mile. Thenhe swiftly climbed the tallest tree that he could find, and hid in itstop.

  The ring of ey
es was gone, as the ring of fire had died, but Henry andPaul slept on, although there was full need for them to be awake. Thelong, distant quaver, like a whine, but with something singularlyferocious in its note came again on the wind, and, far away, a score offorms, phantom and dusky, in the shadow were running fast, with low,slim bodies, and outstretched nostrils that had in them a grateful odorof food, soon to come.

  Nature had given to Henry Ware a physical mechanism of great strength,but as delicate as that of a watch. Any jar to the wheels and springswas registered at once by the minute hand of his brain. He stirred inhis sleep and moved one hand in a troubled way. He was not yet awake,but the minute hand was quivering, and through all his wonderfullysensitive organism ran the note of alarm. He stirred again and thenabruptly sat up, his eyes wide open, and his whole frame tense with anew and terrible sensation. He saw the dead coals, where the fire hadbeen; the long, quavering and ferocious whine came to his ears, and, inan instant, he understood. It was well for the two that Henry was bynature a creature of the forest! He sprang to his feet and with onesweeping motion pulled Paul to his also.

  "Up! Up, Paul!" he cried. "The fire is out, and the wolves are coming!"

  Paul's physical senses were less acute and delicate than Henry's, and hedid not understand at once. He was still dazed, and groping with hishands in the dusk, but Henry gave him no time.

  "It's our lives, Paul!" he cried. "Another enemy as bad as the fire isafter us!"

  Not twenty feet away grew a giant beech, spreading out low and mightyboughs, and Henry leaped for it, dragging Paul after him.

  "Up you go!" he cried, and Paul, not yet fully awake, instinctivelyobeyed the fierce command. Then Henry leaped lightly after him and asthey climbed higher among the boughs the ferocious whine burst into along terrible howl, and the dusky forms, running low, gaunt and ghostlyin the shadow, shot from the forest, and hurled themselves at the beechtree.

  Henry, despite all his courage, shuddered, and while he clutched a boughtightly with one hand put the other upon his comrade to see that he didnot fall. He could feel Paul trembling in his grasp.

  The two looked down upon the inflamed red eyes, the cruelly sharp, whiteteeth and slavering mouths, and, still panting from their climb, eachbreathed a silent prayer of thankfulness. They had been just in time toescape a pack of wolves that howled horribly for a while, and then satupon their haunches, staring silently up at the sweet new food, whichthey believed would fall at last into their mouths.

  Paul at length said weakly:

  "Henry, I'm mighty glad you're a light sleeper. If it had been left tome to wake up first I'd have woke up right in the middle of the stomachsof those wolves."

  "Well, we're here and we're safe for the present," said Henry who nevertroubled himself over what was past and gone, "and I think this is amighty fine beech tree. I know that you and I, Paul, will never seeanother so big and friendly and good as it is."

  Paul laughed, now with more heart.

  "You are right, Henry," he said. "You are a mighty good friend, Mr. BigBeech Tree, and as a mark of gratitude I shall kiss you right in themiddle of your honest barky old forehead," and he touched his lipslightly to the great trunk. Paul was an imaginative boy, and his whimpleased him. Such a thought would not have come to Henry, but he likedit in Paul.

  "I think it's past midnight, Paul," said Henry, "and we've been luckyenough to have had several hours' sleep."

  "But they'll go away as soon as they realize they can't get us," saidPaul, "and then we can climb down and build a new and bigger ring offire about us."

  Henry shook his head.

  "They don't realize it," he replied. "I know they expect just thecontrary, Paul. They are as sure as a wolf can be that we will dropright into their mouths, just ready and anxious to be eaten. Look atthat old fellow with his forepaws on the tree! Did you ever see suchconfidence?"

  Paul looked down fearfully, and the eyes of the biggest of the wolvesmet his, and held him as if he were charmed. The wolf began to whine andlick his lips, and Paul felt an insane desire to throw himself down.

  "Stop it, Paul!" Henry cried sharply.

  Paul jerked his eyes away, and shuddered from head to foot.

  "He was asking me to come," he said hysterically, "and I don't know howit was, but for a moment I felt like going."

  "Yes and a warm welcome he would have given you," said Henry stillsharply. "Remember that your best friend just now is not Mr. Big Wolf,but Mr. Big Beech Tree, and it's a wise boy who sticks to his bestfriend."

  "I'm not likely to forget it," said Paul.

  He shuddered again at the memory of the terrible, haunting eyes that hadbeen able for a brief moment to draw him downward. Then he clasped thefriendly tree more tightly in his arms, and Henry smiled approval.

  "That's right, Paul," he said, "hold fast. I'd a heap rather be up herethan down there."

  Paul felt himself with his hand.

  "I'm all in one piece up here," he said, "and I think that's good for afellow who wants to live and grow."

  Henry laughed with genuine enjoyment. Paul was getting back his sense ofhumor, and the change meant that his comrade was once more strong andalert. Then the larger boy looked down at their besiegers, who weresitting in a solemn circle, gazing now at the two lads and now at thevenison, hanging from the boughs of another tree very near. In the duskand the shadows they were a terrible company, gaunt and ghostly, grayand grim.

  For a long time the wolves neither moved nor uttered a sound; theymerely sat on their haunches and stared upward at the living prey thatthey felt would surely be theirs. The clouds, caught by wanderingbreezes, were stripped from the face of the sky, and the moonlight cameout again, clear, and full, sheathing the scorched trunks once more insilver armor, and stretching great blankets of light on the burned andashy earth. It fell too on the gaunt figures of the gray wolves, but thesilent and deadly circle did not stir. In the moonlight they grew moreterrible, the red eyes became more inflamed and angry, because they hadto wait so long for what they considered theirs by right, the snarlinglips were drawn back a little farther, and the sharp white teeth gleamedmore cruelly.

  Time passed again, dragging slowly and heavily for the besieged boys inthe tree, but the wolves, though hungry, were patient. Strong in unionthey were lords of the forest, and they felt no fear. A shambling blackbear, lumbering through the woods, suddenly threw up his nose in thewind, and catching the strong pungent odor, wheeled abruptly, lumberingoff on another course. The wild cat did not come back, but crouchedlower in his tree top; the timid things remained hidden deep in theirnests and burrows.

  It was a new kind of game that the wolves had scented and driven to theboughs, something that they had never seen before, but the odor was verysweet and pleasant in their nostrils. It was a tidbit that they musthave, and, red-eyed, they stared at the two strange, toothsomecreatures, who stirred now and then in the tree, and who made queersounds to each other. When they heard these occasional noises the packwould reply with a long ferocious whine that seemed to double on itselfand give back echoes from every point of the compass. In the still nightit went far, and the timid things, when they heard it, trembled all overin their nests and burrows. Then the leader, the largest and mostterrible of the pack would stretch himself upon the tree trunk, and clawat the scorched bark, but the food he craved was still out of reach.

  They noticed that the strange creatures in the tree began to moveoftener, and to draw their limbs up as if they were growing stiff, andthen their long-drawn howl grew longer and more ferocious than ever; thegame, tired out, would soon drop into their mouths. But it did not, thetwo creatures made sounds as if they were again encouraging each other,and the hearts of the wolves filled with rage and impatience that theyshould be cheated so long.

  The night advanced; the moonlight faded again and the dark hours thatcome before the dawn were at hand. The forest became black and mistylike a haunted wood, and the dim forms of the wolves were the ghoststhat lived in it. But to
their sharp red eyes the dark was nothing; theysaw the two beings in the tree do a very queer thing; they tore stripsfrom themselves, so it seemed to the wolves, from their clothing infact, and wound it about their bodies and a bough of the tree againstwhich they rested. But the wolves did not understand, only they knewthat the creatures did not stir again or make any kind of noise for along time.

  When the darkness was thickest the wolves grew hot with impatience.Already they smelled the dawn and in the light their courage would ooze.Could it be that the food they coveted would not fall into their mouths?The dread suspicion filled every vein of the old leader with wrath, andhe uttered a long terrible howl of doubt and anger; the pack took up thenote and the lonely forest became alive with its echoes. But thecreatures in the tree stirred only a little, and made very few sounds.They seemed to be safe and content, and the wolves raged back and forth,leaping and howling.

  The old leader felt the dark thin and lighten, and the scent of thecoming dawn became more oppressive to him. A little needle of fear shotinto his heart, and his muscles began to grow weak. He saw afar in theeast the first pale tinge, faint and gray, of the dreadful light that hefeared and hated. His howl now was one of mingled anger anddisappointment, and the pack imitated the note of the king.

  The black veil over the forest gave way to one of gray. The dreadful barof light in the east broadened and deepened, and became beaming, intenseand brilliant. The needle of terror at the heart of the gray wolfstabbed and tore. His red eyes could not face the great red sun thatswung now above the earth, shooting its fierce beams straight at him.The dark, so kindly and so encouraging, beloved of his kind, was gone,and the earth swam in a hideous light, every ray of which was hostile.His blood changed to water, his knees bent under him, and then, to turnfear to panic, came a powerful odor on the light, morning wind. It waslike the scent of the two strange, succulent creatures in the tree, butit was the odor of many--many make strength he knew--and the great graywolf was sore afraid.

  The sun shot higher and the world was bathed in a luminous golden glow.The master-wolf cast one last, longing look at the lost food in thetree, and then, uttering a long quavering howl of terror, which the packtook up and carried in many echoes, fled headlong through the forestwith his followers close behind, all running low and fast, and withterror hot at their heels. Their gaunt, gray bodies were gone in amoment, like ghosts that vanish at the coming of the day.

  "Rouse up, Paul!" cried Henry. "They are gone, afraid of the sun, andit's safe for us now on the ground."

  "And mighty glad I am!" said Paul. "The great Inn of Kaintuckee was notso hospitable after all, or at least some of our fellow guests were toohungry."

  "It's because we were careless about our fire," said Henry. "If we hadobeyed all the rules of the inn, we should have had no trouble. Jumpdown, Paul!"

  Henry dropped lightly and cheerfully to the ground. As usual he let thepast and its dangers slip, forgotten, behind him. Paul alighted besidehim and the wilderness witnessed the strange sight of two stout boys,running up and down, pounding and rubbing their hands and arms, utteringlittle cries of pain, as the blood flowed at first slowly and withdifficulty in their cramped limbs, and then of delight, as thecirculation became free and easy.

  "Now for breakfast," said Henry. "It will be easy, as Mr. Landlord haskept the venison hanging on the tree there for us."

  Henry was breathing the fresh morning air, and rejoicing in thesunlight. His wonderful physical nature had cast away all thought offear, but Paul, who had the sensitive mind and delicate fancy, was stilltroubled.

  "Henry," he said, "I'm not willing to stay here, even to eat the deermeat. All through those hours we were up there it was a haunted forestfor me. I don't want to see this spot any more, and I'd like to get awayfrom it just as soon as I can."

  Was it some instinct? or an unseen warning given to Paul, and registeredon his sensitive mind, as a photographic plate takes light? To the keennose of the old wolf leader an alarming odor had come with the dawn! Wasa kindred signal sent to Paul?

  Henry stared at his comrade in surprise, but he knew that he and Paulwere different, and he respected those differences which might be eitherstrength or weakness.

  "All right, if you wish it, Paul," he said, lightly. "There are manyrooms in the Kaintuckee Inn, and if the one we have doesn't suit uswe'll just take another. Wait till I cut this venison down, and we'llmove without paying our score."

  "I guess we paid that to the wolves," said Paul, smiling a little.

  Henry detached the venison and divided it. Then each took his share, andthey moved swiftly away among the trees, still keeping to the generalcourse of the river. They came presently to a large area of unburnedforest, thick with foliage and undergrowth and, without hesitation, theyplunged into it. Henry was in front and suddenly to his keen ears came asound which he knew was not one of the natural noises of the forest. Helistened and it continued, a beat, faint but regular and steady. He knewthat it was made by footfalls, and he knew, too, that in the wildernesseveryone is an enemy until he is proved to be a friend. They were in thedensest of the undergrowth, and thought and action came to him on theheels of each other, swift as lightning.

  "Sink down, Paul! Sink down!" he cried, and grasping his comrade by theshoulder he bore him down among the thick bushes, going down with him.

  "Don't move for your life!" he whispered. "Men are about to pass andthey cannot be our kind!"

  Paul at once became as still as death. He too under the strain of thewilderness life and the need of caring for oneself was becomingwonderfully acute of the senses and ready of action. The two boyscrouched close together, their heads below the tops of the bushes,although they could see between the leaves and twigs, and neither moveda hair.

  Almost hidden in the foliage a line of Indian warriors, like duskyphantoms, passed, in single file, and apparently stepping in oneanother's tracks. Well for the boys that Paul had felt his impulse toleave the vicinity of the besieged tree, because the course of thewarriors would carry them very near it, and they could not fail todetect the alien presence. But no such suspicion seemed to enter theirminds now, and, like the wolves, they were traveling fast, butsouthward.

  The boys stared through the leaves and twigs, afraid but fascinated.They were fourteen in all--Henry counted them--but never a warrior spokea word, and the grim line was seen but a moment and then gone, thoughtheir dark painted faces long remained engraved, like pictures, on theminds of both. But to Paul it was, for the instant, like a dream. He sawthem, and then he did not. The leaves of the bushes rustled a littlewhen they passed, and then were still.

  "They must be Southern Indians," whispered Henry. "Cherokees mostlikely. They come up here now and then to hunt, but they seldom staylong, for fear of the more warlike and powerful Northern Indians, whocome down to Kaintuckee for the same purpose, at least that's what Iheard Ross and Sol say."

  "Well, they did seem to be traveling fast," breathed Paul, "and I'mmighty glad of it. Do you think, Henry, they could have done any harm atWareville?"

  Henry shook his head.

  "I have no such fear," he said. "We are a good long distance from home,and they've probably gone by without ever hearing of the place. Ross hasalways said that no danger was to be dreaded from the south."

  "I guess it's so," said Paul with deep relief, "but I think, Henry, thatyou and I ought to go down to the river's bank, and build that raft assoon as we can."

  "All right," said Henry calmly. "But we'll first eat our venison."

  They quickly did as they agreed, and felt greatly strengthened andencouraged after a hearty breakfast. Then with bold hearts and quickhands they began their task.