THE MOCCASIN PRINT IN THE FOREST
During their stay amongst the Iroquois, which had now extended over rather more than a year, the two English youths had gained the esteem and friendship of two young Indians, both the sons of the White Eagle. Their names were respectively "Young Eagle" and "Swift Arrow."
The former was a strong and supple youth of seventeen, sturdy as an oak, but as straight as a cedar. His brother, who was a year younger, had gained his title of "Swift Arrow" because he was so fleet of foot that he could overtake the swiftest deer of the forest with comparative ease. Both inherited much of the courage and fearlessness of their sire.
These four companions spent much of their time, now that the summer had come again, in hunting and fishing, often staying for weeks together in the fastnesses of the forest. They became well-nigh inseparable. Many were the adventures and escapades, and many the dangers, too, that they braved in each other's company.
Once, in descending the rapids of a neighbouring stream, their canoe had struck a rock which capsized her and hurled all the occupants into the boiling surf. This was nothing unusual, but they were expert swimmers, and immediately struck out for the bank. Arrived there, the Young Eagle missed one of his paleface friends. It was Jack, who had struck the rock in falling and was rendered unconscious, and carried away down the stream. The other two, exhausted with their desperate struggle in the rapids, were hardly able to reach the shore; but Young Eagle, arriving there first, and seeing the unfortunate youth being carried away, immediately leapt into the boiling surf, and succeeded, after a desperate struggle, in saving Jack from drowning.
This brave, unselfish act Jack was able to repay the week afterwards, for in pursuing a wounded bear too keenly Young Eagle had the misfortune to lose his footing, and when he attempted to rise the bear was just in the act of tearing him to pieces in its mad wounded frenzy; when Jack, heedless of the danger which he himself ran, rushed into the very "hug" of the wounded bear, and plunged his long hunting-knife into its heart. The bear rolled over upon them both, but the last wound proved fatal, and the huge monster lay still in death.
A dozen incidents of this nature had only cemented the ties which bound these friends together, and the English youths could scarcely bear to think of that near future when they must part from their red brothers, for much as they loved the forest, they felt somehow that their life was not to end here, and their desire to help their country, either on land or sea, during the present war with the French, which, though it had commenced on the continent of Europe, and had been continued on the high seas, had yet had its echo in the forests and backwoods of the North American Colonies, and, indeed, was destined to have its end there.
Once, during the latter part of the summer of the year 1759, they had been absent from their lodges for several weeks, hunting the shaggy brown bear, the jaguar, the fox, and the wolf, for their skins, in that part of the forest which stretched far away from the head waters of their own streams to the Mohawk River, when one afternoon they suddenly struck a fresh trail, which showed the prints of moccasined feet.
"Ugh!" exclaimed the Young Eagle, who was the first to discover them.
"What is the matter? Is it the trail of an enemy or a friend?" demanded Jack. "By your demeanour I should say that you've struck the trail of a serpent."