CHAPTER X.
A GLAD MEETING SUDDENLY INTERRUPTED.
When Katie stepped out of the dug-out on the main-land, she climbed upon the huge log, and looked around. All about her was darkness and grim silence. Close by, a tall sycamore, erect and lofty, raised its head above the forest and waved in the damp night air. Underbrush grew thick and matted everywhere about her; the ground was beset with miry, treacherous bogs, which threatened death to her footsteps; she knew not where she was, nor the way to leave the island; she was in a quandary.
She knew not what to do—where to go, but, inspired with terror at the thought of again enduring the horrors of captivity, she followed the log down to its end and stepped off. Then wandering vaguely, she started away into the silent, black forest, terrified at its silence and grimness, at the danger behind, and at danger before—for there was danger.
Here, in this forest, lurked the dangerous catamount, and the venomous snake; here trod the bear, nocturnally rambling; the gray, ferocious and gaunt wolf stole through the shadowy aisles; and last, but not least, the red-man was not yet exterminated. Treacherous bogs and deadly pools, too, dotted the spongy ground—terrible dangers in themselves.
She had not gone far when on stepping, she felt her foot sink into a soft bog. Hastily withdrawing it ere it became too late, she turned away only to encounter the same danger. Frightened and faint almost to exhaustion with hunger, and alarmed at the rising cries of beasts which she heard, she sat vacantly down, leaning against a tree. Overtasked nature refused to yield to artificial laws, and she fell asleep.
When she awoke it was broad daylight, and the sun was high in the zenith—it was high noon. Faint with hunger, she yet felt considerably refreshed, and rising, she looked about her. She had not tasted food for thirty-six hours—she must have some; she could not live, scarcely move without it; and she needed strength to fly.
While she was cogitating and looking about, she heard a rustle in an adjoining thicket—the fall of a foot. She slipped behind the tree quickly. What could it be? Was it an enemy, searching for her, or was it a lurking Indian? Whichever it was, she felt alarmed, and her heart throbbed.
Again the sound came—a light footfall. It was nearer—some one was coming—she must escape. Leaving the tree, she softly glided away, keeping the tree between her and the sound. She might have escaped had she been versed in wood-craft, but, being unskilled and timorous she trod upon a dry twig. It snapped, loudly. She heard a sudden, low exclamation. Believing she was discovered, she made no further attempt at concealment, but fled.
She heard the footsteps behind quicken, then settle into a steady run. She strained her pace. A dense coppice lay near. If she could only reach it! She would try, anyhow, and she flew toward it. Hitherto a dense thicket had intervened between her and her pursuer, but now she heard him burst out in full sight. She was almost to the coppice—she would soon be there. Accelerating her speed, she was rapidly nearing it when she heard a voice behind her say:
“Katie!”
She stopped in an instant and turned—she knew the voice. Then, seeing who was her pursuer, she held out her arms, and with a loud cry, rushed to meet him. It was her lover, coming with radiant face and outstretched arms to meet her.
It were worse than useless to attempt to describe the meeting. Suffice it to say they clasped each other in their arms, and Katie wept for joy, and he murmured glad, comforting words to her; she nestled close, and implored his protection; while he swelled and strutted in vast pride, and longed for an enemy to appear, that he might have an opportunity to fight for her.
When she was somewhat composed, she told the story, truthfully, and minutely. Then he became enraged and grew red in the face and scowled; now he had a double account to settle with Downing. Then, suddenly recollecting her long fast, he bade her stay where she was while he went off with his gun to procure food.
He was not long, and soon came back with a brace of red squirrels, the first animals he had seen. Striking a light, he soon had a fire burning, while Katie dressed the squirrels in a trice. Then, bidding her cook them, he started off for more—he would have destroyed all the animals in the forest for her sake. He came back soon with another brace—these being the only eatable animals at that time of the year. He found her busily engaged in disposing of the first brace, eating joyfully. They were young and very tender, and after her long fast she ate voraciously.
While she ate, he watched her, smiling to himself, and exulting over her, and told of his absence from the party. He had been off on a peculiar trail, which he supposed was that of the mysterious hunchback. His attention had been drawn to her by the snapping of the twig, and he hotly pursued her, believing it was the one he sought. They were near the landing, and the party were on the other side of the lake, distant about four miles.
She finished eating, and he arose.
“Come, darling,” he said; “let us hasten back to our friends. There may be danger in remaining here.”
He took her hand, and walking rapidly, (for she was now quite refreshed and strong,) they hurried toward the other side of the lake. He did not go toward the settlement, for he reasoned that, when Katie’s escape was discovered, as it undoubtedly was, the robbers would instantly get between the swamp and the settlement in order to intercept her. Thinking they were off the island, he thought they were in the forest toward the settlement—hence his hurrying to join the party.
His reasoning, though evidently correct, was erroneous. When the settlers found the cabins empty, and the island bare, they thought the robbers had evacuated it, but in fact they had been concealed in an underground pit or passage, dug ready for an emergency. So Walter’s escape would have been certain if he had at once moved toward the settlement; but instead, he was running point-blank into danger.
They were half-way round the lake when Walter halted, and climbed a tree in order to discover, if possible, the whereabouts of the party. But, on seeing nothing from his elevated perch, he was about descending, when an object on the lake drew his attention.
In a direct route, that is a “bee-line,” across the water, he was about a mile from the landing by the log, near where he found Katie. But by land and through the forest it was about two miles. Looking across the water, he could see a dark object slowly moving from the island toward the land, on the water.
At first he could not distinguish the outline of the object—it was a dark, close mass; but, by degrees, it assumed shape, and he saw what it was.
“Ha, Katie! there is a raft on the lake, covered with men. Who can it be?”
“Which way are they going?” she asked, paling at the remembrance of her captivity.
“From the island toward the landing.”
“Oh, Walter, it is they; they are after me. Oh, come down and let us fly.”
“Nay, stay a bit,” he replied. “It may perhaps be our friends, though I don’t see how they could have gotten to the island and back as soon as this. I can see the dug-out now, empty and lying by the big log; they are steering toward it. It must be the robbers.”
Confident in his ability to throw them from the scent, he watched the raft until it touched the shore. The men slowly disembarked, and filed out upon the log, where they stood like a row of vultures, leaving one man upon the raft.
A dark object was at his feet. This soon arose, and Walter discovered it to be a large dog. He wondered what use they had for a dog, and why did they bring the beast with them on this expedition?
He was soon answered. The men, followed by the dog, filed along the log and vanished in the thicket.
A few moments passed, and they did not reappear. Walter began to descend, when he suddenly stopped and listened keenly. Katie, below, saw him change color and look anxious.
She wondered as she watched him, looking and listening alternately, his bold, dashing air being changed to one of anxiety. His hand was placed to his ear to facilitate his hearing, and, with head slightly bent, he remained entirely motionless.
“I thought so—curse this delay!” she heard him mutter. Then he came scrambling down, hand under hand. Alighting by her side, he caught her arm, and hoarsely asked:
“Are you quite strong? can you run?”
“Oh, yes, Walter. Oh, you frighten me! Let us go at once—I know something is wrong.”
“Ay!” he said, starting off at a round pace toward the place where he had left the settlers; “something is wrong.”
“Please tell me, Walter. If I know the danger I am sure I can fly faster. What alarms you?”
“Alarms me?” he said. “Ay! I am not ashamed to own it. Listen! Two miles away are our friends. It will take us a good half-hour to reach them through this cursed, nasty swamp. Meanwhile, behind us is a terrible enemy—the keenest, bloodthirstiest trailer in the world. In ten minutes he will be on this very spot—for he is on our trail!”
He laid his hand on her arm. Just then arose, behind, a round, rich, melodious sound, swelling gracefully, then dying away. He raised his hand.
“Do you not know the sound? did you never hear it?”
“What is it?”
“A bloodhound! In ten minutes he will gallop across this very spot!”
She turned deadly pale. He caught her by her arm.
“Come!” he cried, hoarsely. “For God’s sake fly, else we are lost!”
They plunged into the dense forest, impeded by fallen logs obstructing their course; by matted grape-vines, an impenetrable barrier; by bogs, about which they were forced to circuit; by dense thickets and brambles which threatened their every step; and still behind swelled out the bay of the bloodhound—“Hong—hong!”