the start.
Archie began to overhaul his traps, which had been piled in one corner of the cabin. He looked them over and over several times, and finally inquired:
“Frank, do you know what has become of all my fox traps? Three of them are missing.”
“They ought to be in that pile with the others,” answered Frank.
“There are only two of them here,” said Archie. “My best ones are gone; I’m afraid we have lost them. They must have got loose, and tumbled off the sled.”
“No, I guess not,” said his cousin; “they were all there last night, for I counted them.”
“That ar is what comes of allowin’ them Injuns to camp here,” said Dick.
“Jeroomagoot!” ejaculated Uncle Joe. “You don’t s’pose them Injuns stole the traps, do you?”
“Sartin, I do,” answered Dick, dropping the butt of his rifle heavily to the floor. “I don’t s’pose nothin’ else.”
“Wal, it’s the first thing I ever had stole,” said Uncle Joe.
“Thar’s whar the traps have gone to, any how,” said Dick. “Useless,” he continued, turning to his dog, “you aint worth a pinch o’ gunpowder. I told you to watch them fellers. I don’t see how the rascals could do it, for if Useless had seed one of ’em prowlin’ around, he would have muzzled him quicker nor lightnin’. If you want your traps, youngsters, you’ll have to foller them Injuns. I’ll go with you.”
“Will you,” exclaimed Archie. “Then, let’s start right off.”
“Wal, then,” said the trapper, “pull off them overcoats, ’cause it ’ill be the hardest job you ever done to ketch them Injuns.”
There was something novel and exciting in the idea of a chase after Indians. The boys had often read of such things, and now there was an opportunity for them to take part in one. They were soon ready for the chase. Shouldering their guns, they followed Dick from the cabin, and immediately set out on the trail of the Indians, which could be easily followed by the prints of their moccasins in the snow. All the dogs were left at home, except Useless; for he was the only one that understood “Injun hunting,” and the others would only be in the way. The trail ran directly down to the creek, and as soon as they were fairly on the ice, the trapper broke into a “dog trot,” and the boys followed close behind him, in Indian file. After going a little way, Frank said:
“Dick, I don’t believe that both of those Indians went this way.”
“Why not?” inquired the trapper.
“Because there is only a single track, such as one person would make.”
“I guess you haven’t hunted Injuns much,” said Dick, with a laugh. “Don’t you know that when they are travelin’, the hindermost ones step exactly in the leader’s tracks? If fifty Injuns had been along here, they would not have left a bigger trail nor those two have. But arter you have hunted and fit ’em as much as I have, you could tell by lookin’ at a trail how many there was in the party. I hope you youngsters are good at runnin’.”
“We should not care about running a race with you,” answered George; “but if you will hold this gait, we will agree to keep up with you.”
“O, you’ll have to go faster nor this, if you want to ketch them Injuns,” said Dick. “See here – here’s where the rascals began to run.”
“How can you tell?” inquired Archie.
“Why, easy enough. You see the tracks are further apart nor they wur a little piece back. Come, youngsters! let out a little.”
The boys thought that Dick “let out” a good deal, for he almost redoubled his pace, and they concluded it was best to discontinue their talking; for they soon found that they had no breath to waste. After they had gone about two miles, the trail led them from the creek off into the woods; and, in a few moments, the trapper came to a stand-still on the bank of a small stream, where the trail abruptly ended.
“Where did they go to?” inquired Frank, after he had looked in vain for the trail. “They couldn’t have jumped across the creek.”
“No;” answered the trapper, “that would be a better jump nor I ever saw made. We must go back.”
“What for?” asked George.
“Why, the thieves knowed that we would foller ’em, an’ they have doubled on their trail, just like a fox.”
“The tracks all point the same way,” said Frank, stooping down and examining the trail.
“In course they do,” said Dick. “You don’t s’pose you can tell by the looks of a red-skin’s track which way he is goin’, do you? I have knowed ’em to travel backward for more ’n a mile, to throw their enemies off the scent. But we hain’t got no time to waste. Come on.”
The boys followed the trapper back to the creek, and he immediately started off again at a rapid pace. There was not the least sign of a trail, and they were at a loss how to account for the trapper’s reasons for following the creek, when he knew that the trail ran back into the woods. At length he said, by way of explanation:
“This is takin’ a short cut on the Injuns. You see, they went back into the woods, an’ doubled an’ twisted about on their trail, an’ when they think they have fooled us nicely, they will come back to the creek again.”
The next two miles were passed over in silence. The boys could not have talked if they had wished to, for the rapid pace was telling on them severely, and they began to think that they had never known what running was. But the trapper did not seem to mind it in the least. His motions were easy and graceful, and he appeared to move along without making any exertion whatever. They ran until almost noon, without seeing any signs of the Indians, and the boys began to think that the trapper had been mistaken in his calculations. But their doubts were soon removed by the finding of the trail.
“Hurry on now, youngsters,” exclaimed Dick; “but don’t make too much noise, for the redskins aint far off.”
And so it proved; for the next bend in the creek brought them in sight of the Indians, who were walking leisurely along, with their packs on their backs, thinking, no doubt, that they had effectually eluded pursuit. But they soon became aware of the approach of the hunters, and, without stopping to look back, they commenced running at the top of their speed.
“Bars an’ buffalers!” exclaimed the trapper. “This is somethin’ like ole times. Now, youngsters, I’ll show you some runnin’ as is runnin’. Come, Useless, show us what you’re made of.”
The dog seemed to understand him perfectly, and was off on the instant, and the trapper followed after him at a rate of speed which the boys had never expected to see accomplished by a human being. The creek, for almost a mile, was perfectly straight, and afforded them a fine view of the race, which was worth going miles to see. The Indians were no inferior runners; and, as they had nearly three hundred yards the start of Dick, the boys were doubtful as to the manner in which the chase would end. But the trapper had lost none of that lightness of foot which had rendered him so famous, both among friends and foes, and before they had gone half a mile, he was near enough to seize one of the Indians, while Useless pulled down the other as though he had been a deer.
The
