Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the Frontier

  CHAPTER IV.

  BLAZING ARROW.

  At the moment of flinging his rifle from him, when he made his firstleap, Wharton Edwards noticed where it landed, and of course knew justwhere to look for it. When he searched that place for it, and sawnothing of the weapon, he knew, therefore, that something was wrong.

  A thrill of alarm went through him on realizing the oversight he hadcommitted, but he met it with the coolness of a veteran.

  He pretended to be still searching for the weapon, and moved back andforth, and hither and yon, with his head bent, as though his eyes werefixed on the ground, but the eyebrows were elevated and his vision wasroaming along the edge of the trees only a few rods distant, in quest ofShawanoes.

  None of them were in sight, but he knew that they were there, and morethan one pair of serpent-like eyes were fixed upon him and watching hisevery act.

  Wharton's impulse was to turn back and leap to the other side of thegorge. The temptation was strong, but he dared not attempt it. He couldnot make the jump without a short run, and that would give the Indiansall the chance they could ask to wing him on the fly, as they mostassuredly would do.

  During the few minutes that he pretended to be groping for the missinggun he did a lot of thinking. He knew he was caught inextricably in atrap, and for a time saw no possible way out.

  Had there been anything to gain by a sudden leap into the torrent hewould have made it; but that insured another plunge over the falls, withthe chances in favor of drowning. That, however, was as nothing comparedto the fact that he would be at the mercy of the Shawanoes from themoment he entered the water.

  Hopeless himself, his concern was for the chivalrous Larry, who hadimperilled his life for him. There was hope that his presence on theother bluff was unknown to the red men, and Wharton felt that if hecould frighten him into getting out of the way he would be comparativelysafe, and would be at liberty to hasten on to the block-house and securehelp for him.

  But Larry seemed to be taken with a spell of obtuseness just then. Hecalled to Wharton several times in a dangerously loud voice, andappeared not to see, or at least not to understand, the signals whichwere assiduously made to him. The young man became so solicitous for hiscompanion, who was without comprehension of his danger, that he forgoteverything else, and, advancing to the edge of the ravine, indulged inthe vigorous gestures and words which accomplished what he intended.

  "Now, if he will use sense, he can save himself," was the conclusion ofWharton, from whose heart a crushing weight was lifted; "he has not beenseen, and only needs to keep out of sight until he can take the trailagain."

  But he was in a dreadful situation himself. Between the ravine and thewoods, from which he knew the Shawanoes were watching him, was an openspace, something more than fifty yards in extent. This narrowed to afourth of that width up stream, and disappeared altogether at the brinkof the falls.

  It was useless to pretend longer to hunt for the missing rifle on theface of the rocks when a minute's scrutiny was sufficient to prove thatit was not there. His actions had already shown that he knew somethingwas amiss, and the Indians were not likely to allow the farce tocontinue much longer.

  To go directly away from the stream and toward the wood was to walk intothe hands of the fierce red men, and the youth was ready to take anyrisk before doing that. The frightful contingency he feared was that themoment he made a break for freedom they would fire, and the distance wasso short that he could not escape their aim. That brief, open space overwhich he must run was the gauntlet of certain death. If he were only alittle nearer the trees, he would attempt it. He saw but one possiblething to do, and he now attempted it.

  Pausing in his groping for the weapon, he raised his head and lookedinquiringly about him. He did not dare let his eyes dwell on the treesimmediately in front, through fear of exciting suspicion, and the quickglance which he swept along the trees failed to show him so much as aglimpse of his enemies. But he knew they were there, all the same.

  Fixing his eyes again on the ground, he pretended suddenly to discovershadowy traces of something in the nature of footprints, but, instead ofleading straight toward the wood, they led up stream, where the openspace rapidly narrowed.

  He walked slowly forward, with his gaze seemingly on the earth, but hewas slyly watching the wood, with the alertness of a weasel, on thelookout for the first evidence that his action was mistrusted.

  It was a fearful test to the nerves. With every foot's advance his heartthrobbed faster with hope, and his desperate resolve became more fixed.His greatest task was to restrain himself from bounding forward at thetopmost bent of his speed as he saw the friendly trees drawing near witheach passing moment; and yet he not only forced himself to do that, buthe came to a dead halt, slowly turned around, bent his head down andscanned the ground behind him. His action was as if he had suddenly comeupon some evidence, but in that sweep of the head he again glanced alongthe edge of the wood that confronted him when he leaped the chasm. Thistime he saw a movement so faint that he could not identify it, but ittold him the crisis had come.

  He had now gone so far that nothing less than a disabling bullet couldrestrain him. He longed more than ever to leap away, but every inchgained was of incalculable worth, and, repressing his impatience with aniron will, he continued edging along, his heart throbbing like atrip-hammer.

  To fail to keep close watch of the wood any longer must defeat hispurpose. With little attempt, therefore, to hide his action, he quicklyturned his head, and, without checking his advance, scanned the marginof the forest. As he did so, he observed a stir among the trees. TheShawanoes evidently concluded that the farce had gone too far. Withoutanother second's hesitation young Edwards made a tremendous bound in thedirection of the trees, and was off like an arrow shot from the bow.

  He expected a rattling volley from the Shawanoes, and few who have notbeen through the ordeal can understand the sensation which comes overone when absolutely certain of a demonstration of that kind. To hisamazement, however, not a shot was fired, and he dodged among the treesunscathed. Puzzled beyond measure to know what it meant, the fugitiveglanced over his shoulder. That which he saw perplexed him for themoment as much as his immunity from the part of a target. One solitaryShawanoe warrior had leaped to his feet and started in pursuit. Like aflash the whole meaning of this act came to Wharton Edwards.

  When the Indians were not so hostile toward the whites as they were atthe time of which we are writing, they occasionally visited theblock-houses and settlements for purposes of barter, and to engage infriendly contests of skill in shooting, leaping and running. The red menwere so trained from infancy to this kind of amusement that they wereexperts, and held their own well against the pioneers, though it is wellknown that the Caucasian race, under similar surroundings andenvironments, surpasses all others in physical as well as mentalattainments.

  The champion of the settlement was Wharton Edwards, who, despite hisseventeen years, vanquished all contestants. He received the praise ofDaniel Boone and Simon Kenton, who agreed that there was but oneShawanoe, outside of the unrivalled Deerfoot, who could hold his ownwith him. That was the famous warrior Blazing Arrow, who was aboutdouble the age of Wharton, and who claimed to have beaten every one withwhom he struggled for supremacy.

  Following this declaration from such high authority came the naturaldesire to see young Edwards and the Shawanoe runner pitted against eachother, and efforts were made to bring about a contest between theserepresentatives of their respective races. The great difficulty in theway was that the Shawanoe was one of the most vicious and treacherous ofhis tribe. He had committed so many crimes against the whites that hefeared to trust himself in their power, and stubbornly refused to cometo the settlement, despite the assurances of the leading pioneers.

  He was persuaded, however, to venture out of the woods one day, and thearrangements were quickly made for a race between him and young Edwards.Before the trial came off some one gave the Shawanoe a draught of"fire-
water," which roused the sleeping devil in him. Whipping out hisknife, he emitted his war-whoop, and charged upon the astonished youth,with the intention of slaying him.

  Wharton, who naturally had no weapon with him, succeeded in dodging themiscreant, and before the wrathful settlers could punish him he dartedinto the woods with a defiant shout and disappeared.

  The glance which Wharton Edwards now cast to the rear, as he started toflee, showed him that his single pursuer was Blazing Arrow.