CHAPTER III—A THRILLING ADVENTURE
The sun was well above the mountains before the young Delawares descended to the river, and resumed the perilous journey into the north. Running Fox told Spotted Deer about the strange medicine-creatures that had appeared in his dream, and Spotted Deer became quite excited.
“That was a wonderful thing to happen to a person,” he declared, impressively. “You must do whatever those mysterious animals told you to do. I cannot help you. You must do those things alone. I have heard my father say that.”
“It is true,” agreed Running Fox. “If you try to help me it might do great harm.”
As the lads were still well within the northern boundary of the vast Delaware hunting grounds, they had little fear of an immediate encounter with their foes-Still they were cautious, for they knew that such an experience was not impossible, as both Shawnees and Iroquois frequently invaded that territory to hunt and fish. The Shawnees were a powerful nation living farther to the westward, with whom the Delawares had fought many desperate battles.
The day was about half spent when Running Fox suddenly dropped to his knees, and called excitedly to Spotted Deer. The fresh trail of a bear crossed a narrow strip of gravelly beach and disappeared into the woods. The tracks were huge, and it was evident that the animal had only recently crossed the river.
“See, here is the track of Machque,” said Running Fox, as he measured the footprints with his hands. “He must be very big, and very fierce. He cannot be far off. I will follow his trail, and try to kill him. Spotted Deer, you must wait until I come back. Perhaps it will take a long time to do this thing, but you must wait. It is the only thing to do.”
“I would like to go with you, but I believe it would be bad,” declared Spotted Deer. “You must do as it appeared in your dream. I will wait.”
A moment afterward Running Fox followed the tracks into the forest. The lad had been well trained in the art of hunting by his father, and his sharp eyes had little difficulty in keeping the trail. It led him along the side of a rocky hillside, and then down into the bushy tangle of a dark spruce swamp. The footprints looked very fresh, and Running Fox moved forward as noiselessly as a lynx. He stopped after every few strides to look, and listen and sniff. He had never killed a bear but he had heard the hunters tell many stories about that crafty beast, and he knew that it was only by using the utmost caution that he could hope to get within bow-shot. He crossed the swamp without coming in sight of his quarry, and followed the tracks over the top of another rocky hill. As he was climbing carefully toward the summit he came upon an ant-hill that had been dug open by the bear. The demoralized ants were still rushing frantically over the wreck of their lodge. On the other side of the hill Running Fox lost the trail on a steep ledge of smooth gray rock. Circling carefully around the ledge he finally picked up the tracks leading down into a narrow ravine that penetrated far back into the hills. As the sides of the gully were covered with blueberry bushes, the young Delaware understood why the bear had chosen that route. He saw many crushed and uprooted plants which told him that the hear was feeding upon the berries. Running Fox hurried along the ravine in the hope of overtaking the bear at its feast, but although the trail seemed continually to grow fresher the eager young hunter was unable to get within sight of his quarry.
The ravine at last led up to a wide grassy plateau closed in on three sides by low hardwood ridges. It looked like an ideal feeding ground for elk and deer, and Running Fox saw several well-trod trails leading through it. Then he saw something more interesting. Far over in the opposite corner of the plateau he discovered some animal lying down. It was beyond bow-shot, and Running Fox began to study how he might approach without being seen. When he had watched some moments he decided that the distant object was either an elk or a deer. As it failed to move he concluded that it was asleep. Then he suddenly thought of the bear tracks. They led directly out into the open plateau, and toward the mysterious object in the farther corner. Running Fox was perplexed. He knew that what he saw was not the bear. Still he realized that whatever it was it had come there after the bear had passed. The idea did not satisfy him, however, for he told himself that unless the bear had gone by a long time before, the keen nose of an elk or a deer would instantly have found the dreaded scent. In that event neither of those wary creatures would be likely to sleep on the fresh trail of their enemy. Running Fox felt positive that the bear had but recently crossed the plateau, for the grass which had been trodden down was still springing upright. Then the solution flashed into his mind—the animal he saw was dead.