CHAPTER XXXIII.
CONCLUSION.
Red Crow, the friendly Shawanoe, who had proved his loyalty to thewhites in so many striking instances, left the little party where he hadhalted them in the wood and walked rapidly toward the gorge, which heintended should be crossed by the fugitives and their animals.
It followed that, if such was his intention, the means of crossing wasat his command. So it proved.
He struck the gorge at a place where it was so narrow that Larry Murphy,and even Mrs. Edwards herself, would have found no difficulty in leapingit. The horses, if stripped of their loads and sharply urged, would nodoubt have done the same; but to meet such an emergency some one hadcaused the trunks of two trees to lie as close as possible side byside, the "dip" between the logs being packed with dirt and gravel, sothat a space of fully two feet wide and quite level was presented. Itwas strong, and any horse could walk over without trouble.
It was curious that the youths, while searching for just such a spot theprevious evening, should have missed it. They must have passed quitenear to it.
Red Crow stood a moment calmly contemplating the rude work of art, hiseyes roving from where he stood to the other side and beyond. It wouldseem as if he ought to have been satisfied with the strength of thebridge, but he appeared to be in doubt, and to test it he started towalk across.
At the moment of doing so a figure stepped from behind one of the largetrees and advanced to him. Red Crow looked up and saw Blazing Arrow,who, detecting his approach, had dodged behind shelter. The face of themiscreant was the embodiment of rage as he ground out the words: "Dog ofa Shawanoe! friend of the white man! you shall die! rot at the bottom ofthe water!"
The words were loud enough to be heard above the dull roar of thecurrent. Red Crow recoiled for a moment on catching sight of hisexecrated relative, but it was through surprise rather than fear. Thenext moment he took a step forward.
"Blazing Arrow is a rattlesnake! Arqu-wao does not fear him! he hurt himwhen he was young and weak like a squaw, but Arqu-wao is now a man and awarrior!"
While speaking, Red Crow hung his bow behind him and drew his knife.Blazing Arrow had left his rifle leaning against the tree where he washiding, and his hunting-knife was in his hand when he stepped upon thebridge.
Had the two been obliged to stay apart for a few minutes they would haveused the time in taunting each other, an art in which the American raceis hardly less adept than the Caucasian; but they were eager to cometogether; their hatred was too burning for either to waste any time.
They met in the middle of the bridge, directly over the sweepingcurrent, and assailed each other like a couple of catamounts. It was afight to the death, and was fiercely waged by each. Neither would ask orshow mercy, and one or both must succumb.
It would be distressing to describe the terrific encounter in detail.Nothing could have been fiercer, but it continued only a few minutes,when a spectator would have seen that Arqu-wao was overmatched. BlazingArrow was much the larger, and not only was fully as active, but morepowerful. He pressed his advantage remorselessly, and, though he wasseverely wounded by the weapon of the other, he conquered.
The swaying bodies kept their places on the narrow bridge, thoughsometimes they narrowly missed rolling into the torrent beneath, untilfinally the efforts of Arqu-wao relaxed. Then, seizing him in his brawnyarms, Blazing Arrow lifted him high in the air, and holding him aloftfor a moment, hissed:
"Die, dog of a Shawanoe, your blood is white!"
He swung the senseless body outward, and it shot downward like abowlder, and with a loud splash vanished beneath the surface.
But the bloody form of Blazing Arrow was scarcely ten seconds behind it.The furious exclamations were yet trembling on the dusky lips when thecrack of a rifle broke the stillness. The miscreant, with a resoundingshriek, leaped clear of the bridge and sped downward like a meteor, thespray flying high in the air as he, too, vanished from human sight.
"Confound it!" muttered the enraged Simon Kenton, "why didn't I get hyarjes' a minute sooner? I've give Blazing Arrer his last sickness; butafore I done that he put poor Red Crow to sleep; but it's all over now,and thar's no use of kickin'."
Advancing to the edge of the torrent, he looked in the direction of thefalls to see the bodies disappear. Once he thought he saw a dark objectfor a moment, which he fancied might be one of them, but it disappearedbefore he could make certain, and was not seen again.
As he had remarked to himself, there was nothing to be gained by"kicking," and with a sigh of regret over the unfortunate Red Crow, or,as he was known among his own people, Arqu-wao, he turned about andhurriedly rejoined his friends, who were greatly agitated at the tragedythat they knew had taken place near them.
The scout told, in as few words as he could, what had occurred, andadded:
"It's too bad for Red Crow, but I'm afeared that rifle-shot and thebeautiful yell of Blazing Arrer has been heard by the rest of thevarmints; leastwise we don't want to stay hyar any longer."
Before allowing the party to cross the rude bridge with the animals,Kenton preceded them and made a careful reconnoisance. He could discoverno signs of Shawanoes, and, picking up Blazing Arrow's rifle from whereit rested against the tree, he signalled the pioneer and the rest tofollow him over.
It was easy for all to obey, but a vexatious delay was caused by thereluctance of the horses to trust themselves on the narrow foot-bridge,with the rushing current below. In the very middle of the support theleader became panic-stricken, and, in attempting to back to the shorefrom whence he started, lost his balance, and that was the last of him.The other reached the bank in safety.
There was no semblance of a path on the other side, and what Red Crowwould have done, had he lived, after crossing, cannot be known; butKenton did not hesitate. His knowledge of the country enabled him toproceed intelligently. He explained the route clearly to the pioneer,and leaving him to follow orders, he again assumed the duties of rearguard, adding:
"Push ahead, Brigham, as best you can; to-night will settle whether thefolks get to the settlement or not. If we can dodge the varmints tillafter the sun goes down we'll be all right."
"Suppose we get into trouble?"
"I'll signal you. If you hear this gun go off, don't pay any 'tention toit except to travel faster, if you can."
With an exchange of these brief sentences, the pioneer set out, closelyfollowed by his wife, the boys and the scout.
Fortunately the horse that went off the bridge did not take all thelunch with him. Mr. Edwards brought out what was left and divided itamong his companions, and they ate as they walked.
They were now pursuing a clearly defined policy. It was to come back tothe regular trail at a point well beyond where the Indians were believedto be waiting in ambush. If the hostiles could thus be thrown behindthem, there was reason to hope for the best.
The chief trouble was because of the horse. Without any path for hisfeet, and with the trees now and then interfering, and with places soimpassable that they were compelled to make laborious detours, theprogress was exasperatingly slow; but with the passing of the afternoonand the approach of night, hope strengthened. Safety lay in darkness,which was close at hand.
At intervals the listening ear of the pioneer caught a familiar signalfrom Kenton, but in every instance it was interpreted "All right," andserved to add to the buoyancy of the spirits of all.
The scout was strongly inclined to place a favorable explanation on thisimmunity from attack. The Shawanoe war party was small in numbers; ithad suffered the loss of three or four of their best men, among themtheir leader, Blazing Arrow. This weakened them greatly.
On the other hand, if the Shawanoes were hunting for the two boys, orfor the pioneer and his wife, they were confronted by a marked change inthe situation. Not only had the two couples been united, but the mostdreaded ranger of the border was with them. There were five rifles amongthe whites instead of two, and every person holding a weapon was notonly ready,
but was skilled in its use. They knew of the threatenedperil, and were on the alert to guard against it.
In other words, the whites had increased and the red men decreased tothat extent that Kenton half believed the Shawanoes hesitated to attackthem. It was certain that they would not do so unless they could gainsome great advantage over them, which was what the scout determinedshould not be gained if it lay in his power to prevent it. Certainly, ifskill and woodcraft could avail, it never would come about.
The veteran ranger employed all the consummate art of which he wasmaster. He fell farther behind than any of his friends ever suspected;he made long half way circuits through the woods, and as they neared thetrail he once passed entirely round the company without their knowledge.Nothing escaped his lynx eyes, but, when the sun at last went down andtwilight stole through the forest, he had not caught the firstsuspicious sign.
It was only fairly dark when Edwards stopped, as he had agreed to do, onreaching the trail. Kenton was with them a few minutes later.
"Things look powerful well," was his encouraging remark; "I haven'tcatched sight of hide or hair of the varmints since that hoss of yoursturned summersets off the bridge."
"That is something to be grateful for," was the response of the pioneer."I feel more hopeful than at any time since leaving the block-house."
"It is a purty good tramp yet afore we reach the settlement; can you allstand it?"
"You know better than to ask me that question," replied the settler witha laugh; "we have been on too many tramps ourselves, but I don't knowabout the rest."
"Excepting me," was the cheery response of the wife. "I am so glad tohave Wharton and Larry safe with me that I know not what fatigue is; Ibelieve I could walk all night without suffering."
"If you give out, make the hoss help."
"No; he has had it harder than any of us. He'll be the first to stop;but, Wharton, what about you?"
"I'll never let my mother beat me walking," he said with a laugh,affectionately kissing her ruddy cheek.
"And as for Larry Murphy," added the young gentleman alluded to, "it'llbe a few years from now before he allows any one to beat him in walkingtowards home, when he knows that a good supper and bed is awaiting himthere. I'm riddy, gintlemen, when ye say the word."
The good fortune which attended the members of the party did not desertthem. What movements were made by the Shawanoes and what theirintentions were could never be known, but not a hostile shot was firedwithin hearing of the fugitives, who at last reached the settlement insafety, all profoundly grateful to heaven for its mercy.
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