Suddenly about twenty men disengaged themselves from the main body, and, urged on by the calls and shouts of several of their band, dashed off in another direction. Joseph and Robert were at a loss to understand this move until they gained the summit of a nearby knoll and spied five more Indians. Evidently they had been sent forward by Black Hawk to spy on the encampment and to see what treatment the messengers had received. One look had been enough for them and they were now fleeing for their lives.
Close behind them sped their pursuers, shouting and firing their guns as fast as they were able. Even as the two young brothers caught sight of them, one of the spies threw up his hands and pitched headlong to the ground. The riderless horse followed its companions for a short distance and then stopped and began to crop the grass on the prairie.
A moment later another one of the Indians was brought down, while the three who were still left, kept on, and, thanks to the fleetness of their ponies, gradually outdistanced their pursuers.
“We’d better stick to the main body,” exclaimed Joseph, and at his word they turned and followed the men who were still chasing the two remaining messengers. The Indians on fresh horses had left their pursuers far behind, but they still could be seen in the distance. Across the prairie in hot pursuit rushed Major Stillman’s entire force, a motley, disorganized and very much excited throng.
CHAPTER XII
THE ROUT
Joseph, Robert, and Deerfoot by fast riding finally caught up with the advance guard of the volunteers. The men were in a frenzy of excitement and rushed forward pell mell with no other thought than to overtake the fleeing Indians. Sycamore Creek was ahead of them and this stream the escaping messengers had already crossed. Their horses could be seen scrambling up the opposite bank and a moment later they disappeared behind a heavy fringe of bushes.
With loud shouts the pursuers rushed forward. That there could be any possible danger to them Major Stillman’s men did not seem to consider. Each man was intent on being the first to overtake the fleeing redmen. Deerfoot, however, knew the man they were dealing with and was consequently more cautious. Mounted on an especially swift pony he outdistanced the rest of the force and was the first to reach Sycamore Creek. There he stopped and wheeling his pony held up his hand.
The whole force came to a stop. Deerfoot raised himself in his stirrups. “No go ahead now,” he called in a loud voice. “I fear ambush.”
His remarks were greeted with howls of derision. Shouts and jeers were flung at the Pottowattomie, and a few even went so far as to intimate that probably Deerfoot was in league with Black Hawk and was attempting to save his ally from destruction. At any rate, no one paid any attention to his words of warning. Once more the rangers spurred their horses forward.
“Come on, Joe,” called Robert excitedly. “We mustn’t be left out of this.”