Afar in the Forest

by William Henry Giles Kingston

I must have remained an hour or more, when I heard voices in the distance. The sounds came nearer, and I knew that the Indians were returning. I scarcely dared to draw breath. They passed close to the tree in which I lay concealed; but I did not venture to look out, lest they should discover me. I was sure as they went along that they were trying to discover my trail. I knew, too, by the voices, that there was only a small party. What had become of the rest?

I calculated, by the direction their voices came from, that they were making their way up the stream. Some distance off, the low cliffs between which the river forced its way were surmounted by trees, which formed a natural bridge. I knew, therefore, that should they wish to get to the opposite side they might easily pass over.

Nearly another anxious hour went by, when I again heard their voices coming across the stream; and looking through the slit, I saw three painted savages standing together in the shallow water, narrowly examining the bank on both sides. Presently one of them stopped and pointed at the marks which my feet had made as I sprang up the bank. I saw them standing consulting eagerly together, but whether their sagacity would enable them to decide if I had gone forward across the country, or leaped back into the water, I could not tell. I anxiously watched, in order to ascertain to what decision they had come. At length one of them climbed up the bank and looked about; then the others followed, and walked for some distance, closely scrutinising the ground. At first I hoped that they were at fault. I had noticed that the bank was composed, a little way on, of hard stones, which could scarcely, I thought, receive any impression from my feet.

They went on for some distance; and then I saw from their gestures that they were fairly puzzled. At length they came back to the bank, and gazed down at the rapidly-flowing stream. They were evidently of opinion that I could not have swam across it. Greatly to my relief, I saw them continuing their course down the river, examining the bank as they went along, under the belief that I must have landed again further down, or else have been swept away by the current. This greatly relieved my mind. I sincerely hoped that they would give me up as lost, and abandon the idea that they should have the pleasure of exhibiting me to their squaws, and torturing me.

On and on they went, until they disappeared among the trees which grew on the bank. Whether or not they would again cross the stream I could not tell, or if indeed they had the means of doing so. They had come from the right bank, so I concluded that they must know of some way or other to get back to it. Still, I was anxious to be certain that they had done this before I left my shelter. I had made up my mind to swim back, and to descend the stream on the left bank, following it down till I reached home. There were by this time ripe fruits of all sorts to be found, I knew, so that I had no fear of starving.

I sat crouched dowd, feeling very much as I suppose a hare does, listening for the hunters—eager to be off, yet not daring to leave her cover. Hour after hour passed by, but I could hear no sounds except the notes of the birds in the trees, the woodpeckers searching for insects in the bark, and the cries of the squirrels as they skipped from branch to branch. I really wished that one of them would poke his nose into my nest, that I might have the chance of capturing him, for I was getting very hungry, and would have eaten him raw without compunction; but none came within my grasp.

At last I could bear it no longer. Food I must have, or strength sufficient would not be left me to swim across the river. I fully believed that the Indians had gone to a distance, and that I might therefore make the attempt without being seen by them. However, I did not intend to swim directly across, as I had done before, but to allow myself to float down with the stream, paddling easily till I could gain the opposite bank. I should thus be assisted rather than impeded by the current.

I nerved myself up for the enterprise. I believed that it would be more easy to make my way out of the hole through the branches on the land-side, and then, going round them, take to the water where there was no back eddy. I had observed, a little lower down, that the current set directly across to the opposite bank, and it was this which had caused me so much trouble to reach the spot where I now was.

Popping up my head, I was about to climb out of the hole, when what was my horror to see four Indians sitting silently smoking their pipes, directly in front of me! To escape was impossible, for I knew that they had perceived me by the loud grunts they uttered, and by one of them immediately springing to his feet and rushing forward towards the tree.

Endeavouring to conceal my fears, I leaped down and advanced towards them, putting out my hand. Instead of taking it, the man who was advancing grasped me by the shoulder; while the others burst into a loud guttural laugh, as much as to say, “You thought yourself very clever, young master, but we have outwitted you.”