Footprints in the Forest

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

"I don't suppose another shot will hurt it much, so I'll send this one right in the track of the first; then Hay-uta will know that my skill is next to Deerfoot's, and it won't be necessary to do any more shooting with this plagued bow."

The second missile was launched with more care than the first, Jack doing his very best to make a center shot; but the result was astounding: the arrow impinged against the tree behind which the Sauk had shrunk, chipped away a piece of the bark, and skipped off at a sharp angle, just as did the glancing missile which slew the ancient king of England, when hunting in the forest.

It looked to the amateur as if Hay-uta, when he thrust his face from behind the trunk was grinning to an extent that endangered his ears. Nothing could have been more eloquent than his gesture, when he pointed to the untouched cap, then at the tree from which the bark had been chipped, and then with a still more overwhelming smile indicated the spot where the erratic arrow lay at rest.

Jack Carleton flung the bow to the ground (as if it were to blame for his miserable work), but he could not help laughing when the Sauk brought back cap and arrows, and gravely handed them to him.

"If there was any chance of my hitting the mark," said the youth to himself, "I might lead him to believe I missed it on purpose, but likely enough my third shot would be wilder than the second, so I'll resign my commission."

A brief examination of his cap showed that the shaft had inflicted a ragged rent, but when the strong material was pushed and doubled together, a good deal of the air was prevented from entering through the opening. The arrows were replaced in the quiver, the bow unstrung, and the two "shook themselves together", as the expression goes.

The forenoon was well along and the air promised to be warmer than on the previous day, though, where the shade was so abundant, it could not be oppressive.

It was not likely that any thing would be seen of Deerfoot until he chose to present himself to them, but, as if in obedience to the same impulse, the two moved toward the river-bank, which was close at hand.

Jack allowed the Sauk to keep in advance, for he did not mean to make any observation for himself. They were only a few paces apart when the lad caught the gleam of water among the trees in front and stopped, while the warrior stepped to the edge with the guarded step he always used at such times. While the surface of the river was partially visible when looking through the limbs, yet the undergrowth almost shut off the view if one stepped down the sloping bank. Just as he had done many times before, the Sauk reached his right hand forward and parted the vegetation, so as to clear the way in front.

A glance was enough; near the middle of the river and almost opposite where they stood was an Indian canoe containing six Pawnees, two of whom were paddling the boat straight for the bank on which the Sauk and young Kentuckian had been practicing archery.