The Trail of the Seneca

by James A. Braden

In his own mind Ree had little doubt concerning the true cause of Big Buffalo’s death; but by what means the Seneca had put out of his way the one member of Captain Pipe’s community who openly resented his leadership there would most probably be a difficult question to answer.

So the lonely lad sat pondering a long time; how long he did not know or care. The rain was still falling, the wind still sighing dolefully when he arose at last, closed and barred the door, also barred the opening which served as a window, and removing only his moccasins lay down to rest. Repeatedly did he picture to his mind’s eye John Jerome tramping slowly, silently through the wet leaves, among the dripping underbrush and trees, stopping often to get his bearings from the wind, and so making his weary and most lonesome way to the protection they had agreed upon.

Repeatedly his thoughts returned to the “big talk” which he must attend tomorrow; but sound sleep came to him at last, even while a crouching figure moved swiftly and stealthily into the clearing and paused as if in hiding behind a shock of corn—the very one on which the crow had perched in the afternoon—then stole on again and disappeared.

Even as the first object appeared, another approached the cabin and moved to the protection of the darker shadows of the stable. For a minute or two the figure stood quiet in the denser darkness beside the building, then moved cautiously toward the little cornfield as if attracted by a faint rustle of corn leaves which seemed to come from that vicinity.

The rain still fell in a quiet, unbroken drizzle, but the wind had abated and there was no reason to suppose that it caused the movement of the corn, which attracted the attention of the crouching creature. Still listening with utmost care, the crouching figure moved nearer to the spot from which the noise ensued.

To discern any object that was without motion, at a distance of even a few feet in the pitch darkness, was an impossibility; but as the rustling of the corn ceased, the one who had been attracted by the sound made out a stealthy movement in the vicinity and instantly stood still. When the darker shadow had passed beyond his vision he dropped to the ground and listened with his ear against the wet grass and earth. After a time he rose and ran forward ever so lightly, pausing at the edge of the woods.

Hour after hour passed. A dull gray light appeared on the clouds to the east. Rising then, and stretching himself, the silent watcher with frequent looks toward every point went directly to the barn built up against the white boys’ cabin, opened the door and leaving it slightly ajar, sat down upon the floor in such a way that he could command a view of the greater part of the clearing.

The opening of the door of the barn made Return Kingdom move, sound asleep though he was, and directly he awoke, conscious of having heard some disturbing sound. What it was he did not know. For a time he listened, but finding that drowsiness was overcoming him, he roused himself with a sudden determination to investigate.

Springing up quietly, Kingdom put on his moccasins and opening a loophole, peeped out. Though still very dark inside the cabin, he could make out principal objects in the clearing, and noted nothing in the least unusual. Suppressing a most sleepy yawn, he decided to creep into his bunk and forget his troubles in restful unconsciousness until broad daylight came.

Very likely the noise which had wakened him was made by one of the horses, the lad thought. He peeped into the stable through a chink in the wall. Discovering immediately that the door of the lean-to was open, and remembering that he had closed it as usual, he was alarmed at once. He seized his rifle, unbarred the cabin door and rushed out.