Marching on Niagara: or, The Soldier Boys of the Old Frontier. Stratemeyer Edward

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      "I'm going to have that deer," returned the younger hunter, and catching the game by the hind legs he dragged it behind the tree. Then both boys hurried down the opposite side of the hill with all speed. Here they placed both deer on the single drag and continued on their way homeward with all possible speed.

      CHAPTER III

      DISCOVERY AND PURSUIT

      It must be confessed that both youths were thoroughly alarmed, and with good reason. Since Braddock's defeat they had heard of the uprising of the Indians at Nancoke, Lusher's Run, Willowbury, and several other small settlements, and had heard of the murder of several German families twenty-five miles to the north of Will's Creek fort, and the murder of Lee Cass, and his wife and four children, thirty miles down the valley. The outbreaks had not resulted from any united efforts on the Indians part, but there was no telling how soon the different tribes would dig up the war hatchet and descend upon all the frontier settlements in force and simultaneously.

      From the top of the hill Henry had expected to go straight home, but this course would necessitate the crossing of a clearing quarter of a mile in extent and such a path he now deemed unwise to take.

      "If they are following us, it will be dead easy for them to spot us in the open," he said. "We had better stick to the forest. Of course they can follow the trail of the drag easily enough, but I hate to think of giving up so much meat, – after we had such a journey to bring it down."

      "Don't let's give it up yet," pleaded Dave. The deer was the largest he had yet laid low, and he was correspondingly proud of the showing. "Perhaps they aren't after us at all."

      On they went, traveling as fast as their somewhat tired limbs permitted. There was another rise to cross, beyond which was a watercourse leading down to the rear of their homestead.

      "I think I know where there is a rough raft to be found," said Henry. "And if I can find it, we can place the deer on that and tow them home. We may get wet, but it will be easy work and we can make quicker time than over the ground."

      "Right you are, Henry, and remember, water leaves no trail," responded Dave.

      They were soon at the side of the stream, which at this point was several feet deep and five to ten yards wide. The banks were thickly overhung with bushes, now, however, bare of leaves. At one spot was an inlet and here Henry pointed out the raft he had mentioned, a crude affair of four short logs lashed together with willow withes.

      "We can pull that with ease," said Dave, as he surveyed the affair. "Come, let us dump the deer aboard at once. We can wade along the bank and – ."

      He broke off short and clutched his cousin's arm. His glance had strayed up the stream to a bend several rods away and there he had seen the prow of an Indian canoe and the headgear of several painted warriors.

      "By ginger! More Indians!" ejaculated Henry, and both dropped flat on top of their dead game. "How many did you see, Dave?"

      "Three or four, – and there are several more!"

      "Yes, and they are in their war-paint! Dave, do you know what I think?"

      "That they are on the war-path? Oh, Henry, if that is so – ." Dave did not finish, but looked anxiously at his cousin.

      "If that is so, it means that every homestead for miles around is in danger. And we haven't a single soldier within fifty miles!" added the older youth, with almost a groan.

      All the while they were talking they kept their eyes on the Indians, and they now saw the redmen come out on the stream and cross to the side they occupied. Then of a sudden the warriors sent up a shout calculated to strike terror to their hearts.

      "They have discovered us! They are after us!" burst from Dave's lips. "What shall we do?"

      "We've got to run for it," was Henry's answer. "Hurry up, before it's too late."

      "But the deer – ."

      "We'll have to let them go. Come!"

      Side by side they darted into the forest back of the watercourse and made their way with all possible speed between bushes, trees and rocks. There was no trail and neither knew exactly where he was going. Once Dave tripped on some roots and pitched headlong, but he picked himself up in a hurry and, panting for breath, kept on as before.

      The retreat of the two young hunters came none too quick, for scarcely had they reached the shelter of the wood when several of the Indians let fly with their arrows, one of which almost clipped Henry's shoulder. This fixed the situation beyond all dispute.

      "They are on the war-path, or they wouldn't fire on us," said Dave. "Are you winged?"

      "No, but it was a pretty close aim. Who can they be?"

      "I believe they are some of Fox Head's dirty band. If they catch us I believe they'll kill us."

      "Or keep us to torture," answered the older youth. "But they are not going to catch us if I can help it – and I think I can."

      While the two were talking they sped on and on, deeper and deeper into the forest. Both wished to turn in the direction of home, but did not dare do so, fearing the Indians would be waiting to head them off.

      At the start the shouts of their pursuers had sounded unpleasantly close but now they died out utterly. But whether the redskins had given up the chase or were coming on in silence they could not tell.

      "I don't think they'll give up so quick," was Henry's comment, as they paused a few seconds to get their breath. "I reckon they've found it doesn't pay to yell. We may get another volley of arrows before we know it."

      Once more they went on. Their course was now in a wide semi-circle, calculated to bring them up in the clearing on the east side of their homestead.

      "We'll pass Uriah Risley's new cabin," said Dave. "It is our duty to warn him of this danger. He isn't much of an Indian hunter, and if the redskins come here he and his wife will be at their mercy."

      Uriah Risley was an Englishman who had settled in the vicinity with his wife several years before. When Dave was once on a trip to Annapolis with his uncle the two had stopped at Risley's home and been agreeably entertained. Since that time, the Englishman, having grown more accustomed to pioneer life, had moved further westward and built himself a cabin twice as large as that previously occupied. But though the man was a good farmer and wood cutter, he was a poor marksman and hunter, and both he and his wife lived in dread of large wild animals and unfriendly Indians.

      As said before, night was coming on, and under the lofty trees it was dark. They had now to pick their way with care, for fear of falling into some dangerous hole. Half a mile more was covered when Henry called a halt. Dave was glad of this for he had stepped on a loose stone but a moment before and given his ankle a nasty twist.

      "I'm wondering which is the most direct road to Risley's," said the older youth.

      "I believe that is the direction," answered Dave, pointing with his hand.

      "I reckon you are right, Dave. And how far do you calculate we are from his cabin?"

      "The best part of a mile."

      "I agree again. Let us take a direct course. The Indians must be far to the rear – if they haven't given up the chase altogether."

      A few minutes later СКАЧАТЬ