CHAPTER X--"MORE BULLETS, MORE LEAD."
Ree did not doubt that Lone-Elk, expecting that he and John would meetto talk over the events of the day and the outcome of the "talk," wouldeither spy upon him as he made his way home, or keep watch of theclearing during the night.
The lad easily saw in the Seneca the influence which set Captain Pipeand many of the other Delawares against him and against John. Heconcluded, too, that so far as Lone-Elk was concerned, the accusation ofwitchcraft was but a means to an end.
He was certain that the Seneca had some evil purpose in view in causingthe Delawares to believe the absurd things he told them. Or was it onlyto shield himself from suspicion in connection with Big Buffalo's deaththat he had invented the witchcraft story? Was the Seneca, then, reallythe murderer of the Delaware warrior? If he were not, he must have somereason for turning the people of Captain Pipe's village against theirwhite neighbors other than merely to avert suspicion from himself.
Often the worn and anxious boy recalled the warning Captain Pipe hadgiven him to carry to the settlements no news of what the Indians weredoing. Could it be that some attack upon Gen. Wayne's men was beingplanned and the Delawares, inspired by Lone-Elk, were afraid the whiteboys would hear of it and give the alarm? Or did Lone-Elk merely fearthe Paleface pioneers would discover the secret lead mine which gave himhis hold upon Captain Pipe? Maybe that keen old redskin himself fearedthe same thing and dreaded lest the white soldiers should invade thecountry to win possession of so rich a prize.
Ree wondered if he was right in any of these surmises, then it wouldseem that the wish of the Indians was to cause him and John to forsaketheir cabin and their clearing and be gone to return no more. On theother hand, after the warning he had received, it would be positivelyunsafe for him to travel far in the direction of Fort Pitt or thesettlements, lest the redskins suspect him of going to betray somesecret, and so make an end of him. What then could he do?
So, completely tired out after the past two anxious days and nights,Kingdom floundered more and more hopelessly in a sea of "ifs" and "butthens," and confused question marks, as he tried in vain to arrive atwhat would seem to him a correct summing up of the situation.
"It's just no use thinking any more about it," he declared to himselfwhen half way home. But he added, "Not now, at least," as a secondthought, for he well knew in what direction his mind would turn when hehad rested and could reflect with more composure.
A half mile from the Delaware town Ree had let Phoebe gallop whereverthe trail was open enough to make such speed possible, and he had a grimsatisfaction in the belief that Lone-Elk was following him.
The Seneca was equal to such a task. Nothing tired him; no hardships orlabor were tod great for him to undertake when he had a point to gain.Kingdom knew this well. He saw in the hateful fellow a spirit whichnothing could turn aside and a strength and cunning far superior to thesame qualities in other Indians, though all were gifted in this way.
"I only hope he is following. If I could be sure of it and make him runhis legs half off to keep up, only to disappoint him in the end, I'dgallop you every step, Phoebe, every last step," Ree told the sagaciousmare, who was picking her steps with the utmost nicety.
And the fact was that the tenacious Seneca, thinking that Kingdom wouldsurely go at once to his companion, was following the horse and rider atno great distance behind. He was afraid to go forward to the clearing,and spy upon the cabin from the edge of the woods lest Ree meet John atsome appointed place along the trail. He thought with savage pleasure ofthe satisfaction he would have in dragging the Little Paleface beforethe assembled Delawares. With a sort of fierce happiness he anticipatedthe pride and joy he would have in hanging the white boy's scalp abovethe door of his lodge where all might see.
Forced as he was to run at a good, round speed in order to keep thesound of the horse's hoofs within hearing, and being tired and in nopleasant frame of mind to begin with, Lone-Elk became furious as mileafter mile he followed on and all to no purpose. His very scowl wasfrightful. Again and again was he tempted to overtake the young whiteman and vent his hatred in one safe, sure shot from behind.
Had the Seneca attempted to put this thought into execution, however, hewould certainly have regretted it. Unknown to him, Fishing Bird was alsoon the trail. Keenly as Lone-Elk followed the horse and rider, he inturn was spied upon by the Delaware who, for a favor done him long ago,was willing to risk his life for his Paleface friend.
As Kingdom reached the clearing and mounted the hill to the log house,Lone-Elk changed his course and traversed the edge of the woods to apoint from which he could command a view of the cabin and the whole openspace about it. Fishing Bird changed his course also. From behind aclump of hazel bushes he kept his eyes on the Seneca unceasingly.
Long after the firelight shone brightly from the door of the white boys'home, Lone-Elk, silent as the very tree trunk which screened him,watched and waited. Scarcely could Fishing Bird see him, yet with equalpatience, he also remained at his post.
Little guessing how closely his every movement was scrutinized by eyesin which there was not one gleam of kindness or of justice, Kingdom wentabout his evening work in the barn and house and prepared his lonelysupper. One consoling thought, and only one, came to him. It was that hecould consider himself safe for the present. He would have time to meetJohn when he returned, and then if they agreed that their only safetylay in deserting the cabin,--the cabin and all they had accomplished inthe clearing,--they would do so. With a few hours' start they could,with their horses, leave any pursuing Indians well behind.
Still, Ree assured himself more than once flight would be the last thinghe would recommend or think of. He declared it might be that Lone-Elkwas more than a match for him, but the Seneca would have to prove it,and meanwhile the game he had commenced was one at which two could play.
Much thinking of all that had occurred and trying in vain to reason outthe inward meaning of it all drove Kingdom to his bunk, completely wornout. With a determination, whose strength was one of hischaracteristics, he succeeded in putting his difficulties from him forthe time, and soon soundly slept.
When the moon had risen, when the firelight in the cabin no longerbrightly burned, when all the clearing was hushed and silent, Lone-Elkgave utterance to a contemptuous, disgusted "Ugh!"
Fishing Bird, alert and faithful every moment, heard the sound and notedwith exquisite satisfaction the disappointment and chagrin the Seneca'stone expressed. As Lone-Elk turned and moved stealthily, as his habitwas, deeper into the woods, and in the direction of the Delaware town,he followed. Elation over the toppling of Lone-Elk's hopes after all thetoil and trouble with which he had followed the Paleface youth filledhis heart. Dejected and sour must the Seneca go back to the villageagain. The thought that he, also, must make the weary journey and thathe, also, had had but his labor for his pains, did not come to him. Hisconscience commended him for what he had done and the hardship of it allwas only play.
It happened, however, that the generous Fishing Bird arrived at hisconclusions quite too hastily. Satisfied that Lone-Elk was returning tothe village, he gave little further heed to the Seneca's movements.Having allowed the latter a long start, he was content to go on slowly,taking pains only that he should not come upon the other unawares, or belikewise surprised himself.
When the morning broke on the village of the Delawares the Seneca wasnot there. Fishing Bird was the first to observe his absence. He hadbeen away from the time the council closed the day before, some of theyoung braves said. They feared Lone-Elk, but they also admired him forhis strength and his knowledge, and being much given to watching all hismovements, they had noticed his absence from the first.
Alarmed and much provoked with himself, the Indian friend of the twoyoung white men spent an anxious day. He feared at any moment to see theSeneca come striding proudly among the lodges, as his custom was,dangling the scalp of Little Paleface in such a way that none would failto see it. Again and again he
was tempted to visit the cabin of theboys, but dreaded to do so lest his presence there be discovered andresult in so much of suspicion being aroused that his usefulness in thelads' interests would be ended.
All day Fishing Bird moved idly about or sat silently in his lodge,showing neither by word or look or action the anxiety he felt, though itincreased more and more as the afternoon waned and Lone-Elk continuedabsent. But at last his long watch ended. Just at sunset the Seneca camewearily into the village. At his belt hung two pouches, both of whichseemed heavy. One of them he gave to a group of squaws who were tendingthe boiling of a great pot of beans. It contained salt. The other hecarried to Captain Pipe and without a word emptied its contents upon abearskin at the chief's feet.
"More bullets!"
"More bullets, more lead, Chief Hopocon," the Seneca answered, using theDelaware's Indian name, "more lead for the brave warriors of theDelawares."