All around the base were the imprints of moccasins, showing where the Shawnees and Miamis had searched and failed to find the trail. Oonamoo having noticed all this, in far less time than it has taken us to relate it, walked out on the tree-trunk as far as it would allow him without wetting his feet Standing thus, he leaned over and peered out into the water.
"Look dere—knowed it," said he, pointing out a few feet from the shore. The water was semi-translucent, so that it required a keen view to discover the object of the Huron's gaze; but, following the direction of his finger, O'Hara made out to discover on the bottom of the creek the sign left by the passage of a human foot. They were not impressions, because there was not a dent visible, the ground being entirely free from any thing like it; but there were two delicate, yet perfect outlines of a moccasin. The hunter had stood a few moments on this spot, and then stepped into deeper water. The tracks thus left by his feet had gradually filled with the muddy sediment composing the bottom of the creek, until, as we have said, there were no impressions left; but, completely around where they had once been, ran a dark line, as if traced by the hand of an artist, a complete outline of the hunter's foot. This faint, almost invisible, evidence of his passage had entirely escaped the eyes of his pursuers.
"What I t'ought," said Oonamoo; "knowed dey'd t'ink he'd come out dere—go in water agin—come out furder up-stream."
"By thunder," said O'Hara, in amazement, "you make me ashamed of myself, Oonamoo. I believe you could track the gray eagle through air. Come, now, where is Lew? you can tell, if you're a mind to."
This extravagant compliment was entirely lost upon the stolid Huron. He appeared not to hear it. He merely repeated, "He come out furder up," and, springing lightly from the tree, continued his cautious ascent of the creek, O'Hara following behind, and occasionally muttering his unbounded admiration of the Indian's astonishing skill.
The opposite side of the stream was overhung almost entirely with the heavy undergrowth so characteristic of the western forests. Beneath this it would have been an easy matter for a foe to have concealed himself and to fire upon the hunter and Indian; but the latter scarcely deigned to look across, well knowing that no such a danger threatened them. While the savages were searching for the trail of the fugitive, Oonamoo was certain that, as yet, no one knew that any one was upon theirs. Even had they known it, they would have cared but little, for they were too formidable a body to fear the two men who were following them.
All along the shore were numerous moccasin-tracks, showing how persistently the Indians had kept up the pursuit. It struck O'Hara that his leader must have walked pretty rapidly through the creek to keep out of sight of the enemies, for they, being upon the land, had nothing to retard their progress. The causes of his success in this matter were twofold. In the first place, the extraordinary speed at which he had run had placed him far in advance of his pursuers, upon reaching the creek, so that he had ascended it a good distance before they reached it; and, unlike the shrewd Huron, they were deceived by the artifice he had practiced, believing that he had either crossed the stream, or gone down it. In this manner he gained a start sufficient to accomplish all he desired.
O'Hara was just on the point of framing his mouth to ask a suppressed question, when Oonamoo, who was several feet in advance, suddenly paused and raised his hand over his head, as a signal that silence and caution were now necessary.
CHAPTER X.
THE PURSUIT OF THE PURSUERS.