CHAPTER XI—A SKIRMISH WITH THE SHAWNEES
The Delawares immediately set out to find the distant lake, and learn the identity of the people whom Spotted Deer had seen. They followed the route which Running Fox had taken several days before, and late the second day they climbed to the top of the high mountain from which he had discovered the lake. They judged that the water was about two days’ journey away.
“Does that look like the water you saw!” Running Fox asked Spotted Deer.
“Yes, it is the same,” replied Spotted Deer.
Then he turned toward the west, and pointed out the route which the unknown war-party had followed.
“Well, if they did not turn off some other way they must be at the water by now,” declared Running Fox. “It would be foolish, to try to catch up with them. We must go ahead carefully, and see if we can find their camp.”
“Yes, that is how I feel about it,” agreed Spotted Deer.
They spent the night on the mountain-top, and at dawn resumed their journey toward the lake. Later in the day, as they were making their way through a dense swamp, they heard a harsh cry over their heads. Looking up they saw a large bald eagle circling slowly above the tree-tops. Running Fox immediately became excited.
“See, there is Woapalanne!” he cried. “That means a fight. Yes, I saw him flying around like that before I had the battle with the bear. Do you hear him calling? Well, that is the war-cry of his people. Spotted Deer, I believe we are going into some kind of danger.”
“Well, I do not know about those things, but I believe that what you say is true,” said Spotted Deer.
They watched the eagle with gloomy forebodings, and as it chanced to disappear into the north their suspicions were strengthened. Running Fox felt confident that they were about to have an encounter with their foes.
“We must keep together, and watch sharp,” he warned Spotted Deer.
At the end of the following day they reached the lake. Having seen nothing of the roving company of warriors that Spotted Deer had encountered, the lads wondered whether they were encamped somewhere along the shore of the lake. They determined to take every precaution, and instead of advancing directly to the lake they stopped on the top of a low ridge some distance back from the water.
“We will wait here until it gets dark,” said Running Fox. “Then we will crawl down there, and see if we can find out anything.”
The lake was large, and the Delawares had little doubt that it was the body of water for which they had been cautioned to watch. They wondered where the Mohawk camp was located. They believed it was somewhere toward the north. Still they saw no evidence of it. They searched the sky until dark, but were unable to find a trace of smoke. Then, as night finally shut down, they determined to go to the shore of the lake to search for the war-party.
The Delawares stole down through the silent black woods as softly and as cautiously as Woakus, the fox. When they reached the edge of the water they immediately sat down to watch and listen. They had little hope of finding the telltale gleam from a camp-fire, for they knew that if the Mohawks were actually on the war-trail they would not dare to expose themselves in that manner, even in the heart of their own stronghold. Therefore, when the lads found nothing to alarm them, they advanced carefully along the shore of the lake. They had gone some distance when they were astonished to see the light of a fire shining out over the water. It was far ahead of them near the other end of the lake, and for some moments the Delawares watched it in silence.
“It must be that those warriors have stopped there,” said Spotted Deer.
“It is mysterious,” replied Running Fox. “If those people are on the war-trail why do they make a fire?”
The lads were unable to explain it. They had seen the Mohawks painted for war, and under those circumstances it seemed incredible that they would dare to make a fire. It appeared as if it must have been lighted by some one else. Still, that too seemed beyond belief. The Delawares realized that even a large war-party of enemies would scarcely be so bold in the domains of their foes. Then Spotted Deer suggested that it might be a company of warriors from one of the western villages of the Iroquois.
“Yes, that may be true,” agreed Running Fox. “But there is something strange about it.”
“What is it?” inquired Spotted Deer.
“Well, these people may he Oneidas or Onondagas,” said Running Fox. “Perhaps they have come here to talk with their brothers, the Mohawks. Perhaps they do not know that the Mohawks are on the war-trail. Perhaps they have not seen any enemies on their journey. Well, if this water is near the Mohawk village, why did these people stop here? If they are the same people you saw, then they must have arrived here before the last sun appeared. Why did they wait here? If they had gone on they would be pretty close to the Mohawk camp by now.”
“What you say is true,” replied Spotted Deer. “But I will tell you how it might be. I do not believe these people are Mohawks. I believe I was wrong about that. I believe that they are Oneidas or Onondagas. Perhaps they are Cayugas or Senecas from far away toward the place Where-The-Sun-Goes-To-Sleep. Well, perhaps they have made a long journey. Perhaps they want to rest. Perhaps the Mohawks do not know they are here. Then they must wait. Yes, they must send scouts to tell the Mohawks that they are coming to see them. Then the Mohawks will get ready a big feast. It is the proper way to do. I believe that is why we have found them here.”
“Well, I see that it may be as you say,” said Running Fox. “But we will not find out about it by sitting here and talking. We see a fire. Well, we must creep up close, and find out who made it.”
“I am ready,” declared Spotted Deer.
They rose and began a daring advance along the edge of the lake. They moved with great caution, stopping frequently to listen for a warning of danger. However, the fire was a considerable distance ahead of them, and they believed that they would be comparatively safe until they got within bow-shot of it. Then they were startled by a loud splash in the river.
“What was that?” Spotted Deer whispered, anxiously.
“Sh,” cautioned Running Fox.
They listened many moments but the silence was unbroken.
“Perhaps it was some one paddling a canoe,” said Spotted Deer.
“I believe it was a big fish,” replied Running Fox. “Perhaps it was Maschilamek, the trout.”
Then, as they heard nothing more, they continued toward the fire. They had not gone far before they smelled smoke. They knew that the wind was in their favor. It gave them confidence, for they realized that there was less likelihood of being heard. A short time afterward they saw a small light flash across their path. A moment later it appeared at one side of them. Spotted Deer stopped.
“It is only Sasappis, the fire-fly,” whispered Running Fox.
“He is carrying his torch to frighten the witches out of the woods,” declared Spotted Deer. “My mother has told me about him. We must be careful not to harm him.”
A short distance farther on they were halted by the deep ringing notes of the big horned owl. The call seemed to come from somewhere to the right of them. It was repeated three times in rapid succession, and the Delawares immediately became suspicious. A few moments afterward they heard another owl calling directly behind them. It was so near that they easily detected a number of false notes in it. They knew it was a signal, and their hearts filled with alarm.
“We have run into a trap,” Running Fox whispered, savagely. “Come, we must get to the water. It is the only chance.”
They were close upon the river, but as they turned to reach it they heard twigs snapping directly ahead of them. Then they realized that they had been surrounded, and that they must fight against heavy odds to save themselves. They saw now that the fire was a clever ruse of their enemies to draw their foes into an ambush. The lads had little doubt that they were again face to face with the hated Mohawks.
“Stand still!” whispered Running Fox, as they heard some one passing through the bushes at the edge of the river. “It is dark, and they may go by us. Then we must rush into the water, and swim to the other side.”
“Let us climb into a tree,” proposed Spotted Deer.
“No, that would be foolish,” replied Running Fox. “These people have surrounded us. They are close. If we climb into a tree they will know where we have gone. Then they will wait until it gets light, and kill us like Wisawanik, the squirrel.”
The next moment a piercing yell rang through the night, and the Delawares heard their foes rushing forward on all sides of them. For an instant they stood there, filled with panic. Then Running Fox recovered his wits, and took command.
“Come, we must fight our way to the water!” he cried.
Fitting arrows to their bows they hurried toward the river. They had not covered half of the distance, when two stalwart figures rose out of the darkness to oppose them. An arrow sped close to Running Fox, and the next instant his own arrow dropped his enemy to the ground. Turning to call Spotted Deer, he heard him thrashing about in the undergrowth. Rushing to his assistance, Running Fox found him fighting valiantly for his life. Running Fox drove an arrow between the shoulders of his assailant, and as the warrior rolled over the young Delaware stooped and peered eagerly into his face. He felt sure that he was not a Mohawk, but he was unable to identify him. Running Fox noted, however, that the warrior’s face was streaked with charcoal, in token of war. Then the lads heard their foes closing in upon them, and they realized that they must be off. As they sped toward the river they heard some one behind them shouting, “Mengwe! Mengwe!” at the top of his voice.
“Now I know who these people are,” cried Running Fox. “That person behind us is shouting the Shawnee name for the Mohawks. Yes, this is a Shawnee war-party. They take us for Mohawks. It is good.”
The Delawares reached the edge of the water in safety, and had waded in knee-deep when the first Shawnees appeared on the shore. Then, as an arrow hummed ominously above their heads, the lads plunged forward and swam furiously to escape from bow-shot. They heard the Shawnees rushing into the river in pursuit of them, and as soon as they reached deeper water the Delawares dove from sight. They rose to the surface within several bow-lengths of each other, far out in the river. They listened a moment to make sure that none of their foes were within reach of them, and then they turned and swam toward the opposite shore. They passed through the water as silently as Winingus, the mink, for they knew that sharp-eared foes were listening to catch the faintest sound. They heard a number of signals from the shore they had left, and once they thought they heard voices within bow-shot of them. It drove them to greater efforts, and they raced through the water at top speed. However, as they drew near the shore and found themselves in shallow water they moved more cautiously. They believed that, having lost sight of them in the darkness, their crafty foes were listening to hear them leave the water, and they determined to take every precaution against giving a clue.
“We will swim ahead until we are a long ways above this place,” proposed Spotted Deer.
“No, that would be a bad thing to do,” Running Fox told him. “If the Shawnees reach land they will travel faster than we can move through the water. Perhaps they will send scouts along the edge of the water. Then it would be hard to get into the woods. We will swim ahead a little ways, and then we will walk out.”
They swam some distance farther, and then waded ashore. They waited a moment at the edge of the forest to listen for the Shawnees. The fire was still burning brightly on the opposite shore, and the Delawares smiled grimly as they realized how easily they had blundered into the trap that had been set for their enemies, the Mohawks. Then, as they feared that the Shawnee swimmers had reached land and begun to search for them, they turned and sped away into the night.