Staring up into the bronzed face with a strange light in his eyes, the Indian released his hold, whereat Sevier dropped in a sitting posture on the end of the log and extended a foot before the imprisoned savage could sink. The hand caught the foot, and as hope brought intelligence the warrior did not make the mistake of pulling his rescuer into the death-trap. Supporting him with his foot, the borderer gathered the tops of several bushes into a bunch and forced them down until the Indian could grasp them.
“Now don’t waste your strength,” quietly commanded Sevier as he slipped off his shirt and bent down a small sapling which he held with his left hand. “You have an ax in your belt?”
The Indian nodded vigorously.
Supporting himself by the sapling, Sevier grimaced and dropped into the slime beside the Indian. He had no trouble in securing the ax, but he grunted loudly in disgust as he shifted his hold on the bowed sapling and allowed his body to sink beneath the stagnant water. He remained long enough to locate one of the imprisoned feet, then pulled himself above the filthy surface. Filling his lungs, he drew the ax from his belt and again descended. He worked cautiously to avoid chopping the foot and after delivering three or four blows was compelled to rise again.
For thirty minutes he repeated the manœuvre, scoring nothing on some trips down, feeling the blade bite deep into the tenacious root at other times. At last the Indian gave a yelp of joy and kicked one foot free. The release of the other foot was quickly effected as the Indian managed to use the liberated member as a lever.
As the two bedraggled men sat on the log, puffing for breath and staring at each other, Sevier smiled and greeted—
“Jumper of the Deer clan, how did you do a thing like that?”
The Jumper wiped the muck from his face and in a weak voice explained:
“As Tsan-usdi knows, I shot at a wolf. It was bad medicine. It made me jump among the roots, thinking the stump was stout and strong. When my feet hit the roots they caught round my ankles like serpents and the stump sank. Kanati, the Lucky Hunter, is still angry because I shot at his watch-dog.”
“But I came and pulled you out. Kanati must be over his anger,” soothed Sevier.