Footprints in the Forest

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

Had Deerfoot been able to find the traitor, he would have made short work with him, but suspecting what he was doing, or rather what he was not doing, he did not tarry. He withdrew so cautiously that no straggling ray of moonlight could fall on his figure, as he moved among the trees. Rejoining the Sauk, they passed down stream.

They had not gone far when they stopped near the edge of the water. There was none of the band on the open space on which the Pawnee camp-fire had been kindled a half mile or so above, so they were covered by all the shelter they could wish.

From the moment of turning their backs for the last time on the Pawnee who had sought to shoot one of them, the Shawanoe and Sauk had not spoken a word. They understood each other too well to need conversation; but, remembering the click of the flint lock and the useless flash of the powder, they made sure that no chance was given for a second attempt.

The Pawnee, who understood why he failed to bring down one of them, was wise enough to withdraw and make his way back to the camp-fire, pondering on the road the explanation which he would add to the store of extraordinary narratives related by his comrades, who had been brought in contact with the young Shawanoe.

The sky was cloudy and the light of the moon treacherous and uncertain. Sometimes the surface of the swiftly flowing river in front was lighted up, and the shadowy line of wood on the other shore stood out clear, and again it seemed to recede, when the face of the moon was obscured.

It was not far to the other bank, and the Indian friends expected to swim across, as they had done scores of times under similar circumstances. Fully two hours had passed since they left young Jack Carleton. During that period not the slightest sign was received from him, and he might have been dead or a thousand miles distant, for all that indicated the contrary.

And yet, it is not to be supposed that either the Sauk or Shawanoe felt any concern for the lad. They had seen no hostiles on that side of the stream; besides, the experience of Jack ought to have kept him from any possible harm.

But the understanding was that the three were to come together at nightfall, or as soon thereafter as possible. Consequently, Jack would be looking for them.

Deerfoot and Hay-uta stood by the margin of the wood, listening and looking. The soft murmur of the forest and the ripple of the current, as it twisted around some gnarled root along shore or struck against the dipping branch of a tree overhanging the water, were the sounds which first fell on their ears. But a moment later the wailing scream of a panther came from the depths of the wilderness, answered a moment after by a similar cry from a point a mile away.

As if the night was to be given no rest, a husky whistle, like that which a locomotive sends faintly through many miles of fog and damp, reached their ears. Deerfoot and Hay-uta recognized it as a signal from one of the Pawnees who were so numerous in the neighborhood. It came from a point near where Deerfoot had caught his first sight of the group around the camp-fire.