close beside the lodge, leaning on his spear. He was undoubtedly a sentry, and had been placed there to watch the prisoner. Frank took one glance at him, and then dropped the door to its place, and hurrying to the other side of the lodge pulled up the skins and looked under them. He saw now what he had not noticed before – that the lodge in which he was confined was in the very center of the village. The nearest wigwams were pitched about fifty yards from it, leaving a clear space on each side that was devoted to the holding of councils and dances. Frank knew that he could never cross that space in broad daylight without being discovered and recaptured, and with a look of disappointment on his face, he dropped the skins and crawled back to his seat on the buffalo robes.
CHAPTER IV
THE TRAPPER A PRISONER
If Frank was disappointed in one respect, he was greatly encouraged in another. He had discovered something that went a long way toward strengthening his hopes of escape, and that was that the Indians were not watching him very closely. The guard at the door had not noticed him when he looked out, and this induced the belief that the chief had placed him there simply to keep Frank from roaming about the village, and not because he feared that his prisoner might attempt to escape. That idea had probably never occurred to him. But the chief did not know much about boys, especially such boys as Frank Nelson. He had yet to learn that the young hunter possessed a goodly share of courage and determination, as well as speed and activity.
Frank lay there on the pile of buffalo robes until dark, and then the door opened, and an old Indian woman came in with a small camp-kettle, which she placed upon the ground in the middle of the lodge, and went out again. The contents of the kettle were smoking hot, and the odor that filled the lodge reminded Frank that he had not lost his appetite, and that he was as hungry as a wolf, in spite of all the excitements of the afternoon. An examination of the kettle showed that it contained buffalo meat. Taking his knife from his pocket, Frank seated himself on the ground and began his supper. It was not quite as good as some he had eaten at his quiet little home on the banks of Glen's Creek, but the buffalo meat was nourishing, and when the last vestige of it had disappeared, Frank arose to his feet, put his knife into his pocket, and declared that he felt better.
"I could run, now, if these Indians would only give me half a chance," said he, to himself. "I may yet show them what I can do, unless they station a sentry at the back of this lodge. Now if I only had a drink of water!"
As Frank said this he went to the door again, and there was the guard, standing in the same position in which he had seen him before, leaning on his spear, and gazing off into vacancy. Frank did not believe that he had moved a muscle during the last two hours.
"I say, old fellow!" he exclaimed, "is there any water about here?" Then, fearing that the savage might not understand him, he made a motion with his hand as though he were drinking from a cup.
The guard did not reply, but beckoned to the prisoner to follow him, and led the way through the village toward the ravine from which the chief and his party had entered the valley. Frank, ever on the alert, exulted at this. He knew that the guard was conducting him to a spring, and he sincerely hoped that it would prove to be outside the village. In that event, one Indian, even though he was armed with a spear, could not prevent him from making at least an attempt at escape. If he could get but two feet the start of the sentry, he believed that he could elude him in the darkness. Unfortunately for the success of these plans, however, the spring was not outside the village. It was but a short distance from the place where he had been confined, and all around it were lodges, beside which stalwart warriors lay upon their blankets, smoking their pipes. The least attempt at escape would have brought them around him like a cloud of mosquitoes. He must wait until some more favorable opportunity.
Frank kneeled down beside the spring, and took a long and refreshing drink, and then quietly followed the guard back to his prison. He looked into the wigwams as he passed along, and now that he had in some measure recovered his usual spirits, he began to be interested in what was going on around him; but he did not see any thing to induce him to give up home and friends, and turn Indian. The idea was a novel one to him, and he could have smiled at it, had it not been for the preparations for battle that were every-where visible in the camp – the horses saddled and waiting, the weapons hung upon the poles of the lodge, where they could be seized at a moment's warning, and the braves in war-paint, ready to move at the word. Frank noticed these things, and thought of his friends at the fort. If the expected reinforcements arrived in time, the savages might make the attack that very night.
When Frank found himself once more inside his prison, he stretched himself on the buffalo robes, and waited impatiently for the Indians to go to sleep. How wearily the hours dragged by, and how Frank alternated between hope and fear, can be imagined better than we can describe it. Sometimes he looked upon his escape as an assured thing. When the Indians were all asleep, it would be a matter of but little difficulty for him to creep out of the lodge, and make his way through the village to the ravine. It was easy enough for him to sit there on the buffalo robes and think about it, but when he imagined himself doing it, and pictured to himself the dangers in his way, his hopes fell again; and then, had it not been for the remembrance of what the outlaw had told him, he would have been tempted to abandon all thoughts of escape. If it would have required all the skill and cunning that Dick and Bob possessed to outwit the savages in a case like this, what could an inexperienced boy of sixteen do?
Frank thought the Indians did not intend to go to sleep at all that night. He heard them moving about until a late hour, and it was midnight before the silence that reigned in the camp told him that if he ever intended to carry out the plans he had determined upon, the time had come to do it. His heart beat fast and furiously as he pulled off his shoes, and moved noiselessly across the lodge toward the corner in which the chief had deposited his blanket and spear. He was very deliberate in his movements, and there was need of all his caution; for the guard stood almost within reach of him, and the slightest noise inside the lodge would have brought him in there immediately. Frank threw the chief's blanket over his shoulders, put on the head-dress, picked up the spear, and crept cautiously across the lodge. He threw himself upon his hands and knees, and after listening a moment to assure himself that the guard had not been alarmed, he lifted up the skins which formed the wall of the lodge, and looked out. The camp was as silent as though it had been deserted. On every hand he could see the smoldering embers of the fires by which the savages had cooked their suppers, but not a living being was in sight. Drawing in a long breath he crawled slowly out of the lodge, and after lingering a moment to arrange the blanket about his shoulders, he grasped the spear firmly in his hand, and stole away into the darkness, looking back now and then to make sure that he was keeping the lodge between him and the guard. An intervening row of wigwams finally shut his prison from his sight, and Frank began to congratulate himself on having accomplished the most difficult part of his undertaking.
"When the chiefs reinforcements arrive, and he makes the attack on the fort, and finds the trappers and soldiers ready to receive him, he will wish he had taken a little more pains to watch me," thought Frank, as, with a step that would not have awakened a cricket, he made his way through the village toward the ravine. "If Dick and Bob had been his prisoners he would, no doubt, have kept them bound hand and foot; but I'm a boy, and he thought he had nothing to fear from me. I'll teach him something."
The tall figure of an Indian glided suddenly across the path in front of him, and interrupted his soliloquy. Frank's first impulse was to throw down the spear and blanket, and take to his heels; but remembering in time that he was personating an Indian, and that every thing depended upon his getting out of the village before the guard at the chief's wigwam discovered his flight, he straightened up and boldly approached the Indian, who merely turned his head and looked at Frank, and then disappeared among the lodges. That was another danger passed; and commending the forethought that had induced him to use the chief's clothing as a disguise, he kept on with increased speed toward the mountains, which, to his impatient eye, seemed as far off as when he left his prison. But he was gradually nearing them all the while, and when the last
