to make no more noise than I could help; for, just as like as not, there war Injuns in the swamp, an’ one of ’em might take it into his head to send a chunk of lead into me when I couldn’t see him.
“About an hour afore dark, I reached the other side of the swamp; an’ in less nor ten minits more I had found the trail, and wur follerin’ it up as fast as my legs could carry me. But afore I had gone a mile it begun to grow dark. In course, I couldn’t foller the trail no further; an’ the only thing I could do, war to camp down where I war, an’ wait for daylight. So, arter makin’ my supper out o’ parched corn, I picked out a nice place by the side of a log, and settled myself down to sleep.
“The next mornin’, bright and arly, I war up, an’ on the trail agin. I follered it all day, without onct stoppin’ or losin’ sight of it, an’ about night it begun to grow fresher; but it came on dark agin, and I had to camp. Long about midnight I heerd a sort of rustlin’ like in the bushes. I war wide awake in a minit; for a feller that lives in the woods larns to keep his ears about him. I lifted my head an’ listened. Yes, thar war no mistake – I could hear something steppin’ keerfully over the leaves, an’ I thought it war comin’ right toward me. At first I thought it war some wild varmint; but, as it come nigher, I found that it war a two-legged critter; so I cocked my rifle an’ waited for the Injun – for I knowed by the step that it war a red-skin – to come in sight. The steps sounded nigher an’ nigher, an’ all to onct the bushes parted without any noise, an’ out come the biggest Blackfoot that it ever war my luck to set eyes on. He didn’t seem to know that me an’ my rifle war around; if he had, I reckon it wouldn’t have made him feel very pleasant; but he walked past, within ten foot of me, an’ disappeared in the darkness.
“Now, perhaps you would like to know why I didn’t up and shoot him. Wal, I’ll tell you. That would have jest knocked the hul thing in the head, an’ I should have had all my trouble for nothin’. I knowed that the Injun that stole my trap wasn’t a great way off, and I knowed, too, that the feller that jest passed war a sort of friend of his’n, an’ that they war goin’ to meet somewhere in the woods close by. So I thought that perhaps, if I took matters easy, I could rub out both of the rascals.
“As soon as the Injun wur out o’ hearin’, I picked myself up, an’ started along arter him, purty certain that before long I would come in sight of their camp-fire; an’ I wasn’t mistaken I hadn’t gone half a mile afore I see a light shinin’ through the trees; an’ droppin’ on all-fours, I begun to crawl along through the bushes, until I come to a place where I had a full view of the fire. As I had expected, there war two Injuns settin’ by it. One of them – the one that had just passed me – war eaten’ his supper, an’ the other lay stretched out on his blanket, and war showin’ his friend the trap he had stole from me; an’ they war both laughin’ over it, as though they thought it war a mighty good joke. This kinder riled me, an’ I knowed that I could soon put an end to their skylarkin’. I might have shot one of them where he sot easy enough, but that wouldn’t do, for the other would have escaped, an’ I wanted to make sure of both of ’em. I wasn’t fool enough to think of walkin’ into their camp an’ tacklin’ both of ’em to onct; they would have made an end of me in the shake of a buck’s tail. The only way I could work it war to get ’em apart, an’ take ’em one at a time. So I dropped my rifle an’ drawed my knife, an’ gave two loud yells, which war a signal to let the Injuns know that one of ’em war wanted. They both sprang to their feet an’ listened for a moment, an’ one of ’em – the one that had stole my trap – picked up his rifle and come toward me; an’ the other went on eatin’ his supper.
“I waited until the Injun had come within ten foot of me, then all to onct I stepped out from behind my tree an’ stood before him. Bar an’ buffaler! how the rascal started! He looked at me for a minit, as if to make sure that I war a human critter, an’ then, givin’ an unarthly yell, he dropped his rifle, an’ made at me with his tomahawk. But I met him half way, an’ ketchin’ hold of the hand that held the tomahawk, I give him a stab with my knife that settled his business for him. He fell to the ground like a log, an’ I had hardly time to grab my rifle afore I seed the big Injun comin’ toward me. But he hadn’t made more’n two steps, afore a chunk of lead brought him to the ground.
“I then walked up to the camp, and stretched myself out on one of the Injuns’ blankets; and arter makin’ a good supper on a piece of venison I found hung up on a tree close by, I covered myself up, an’ in a few minits war fast asleep.
“The next mornin’ I war up bright an’ arly, an’ pickin’ up my trap, an’ all the Injuns’ plunder I wanted, I drew a bee-line for camp. In another day I had gathered up all the rest of my traps, without seein’ any more Injun signs; but I knowed they would soon be around. As I didn’t care about bein’ in their company, an’ as game war gettin’ scarce, I tumbled all my spelter into my canoe, an’ started down the river.”
CHAPTER V
The Fight in the Woods
THE next morning, after breakfast, the trapper took down his long rifle, saying, as he did so:
“Now, youngsters, I’m goin’ off into the woods, about twenty mile or so, to camp out for a week, an’ see if I can’t find some otter. If you want good sport, you had better go, too. The game is gettin’ too scarce around here to suit me.”
The boys readily agreed to this proposal, and began to talk of packing their sleds; but the trapper scouted the idea.
“You’ll never larn to be what I call woodsmen,” said he, “until you get rid of some of your city notions. You must larn to tote all your plunder on your backs. Just fill your possible-sacks1 with coffee and bread; take plenty of powder an’ shot, a change of clothes, an ax or two, an’ some blankets, and that’s all you need.”
These simple preparations were soon completed, and, after bidding Uncle Joe good-by, they set out, accompanied by their dogs.
Dick carried the “Old Settler,” and had his blanket strapped fast to his belt. Frank and George each carried an ax. Archie had several of his fox-traps, which he could not think of leaving behind; and Harry brought up the rear, carrying a large bundle of blankets. Besides these necessary articles, the boys carried their shot-guns, and the trapper his long rifle.
Dick led the way directly up the creek, following the same course they had taken the day before in pursuit of the Indians, for about ten miles, and then struck off into the woods. About noon they halted in a little grove of evergreens, and the trapper said:
“We’ll camp here for awhile, youngsters, an’ eat our dinner.”
The boys were very glad to hear this; for, strong and active as they were, they found that they were no match for Dick in traveling. Archie and George leaned their guns up against a tree, took the axes, and commenced to clear away a place where they could build a fire.
“Now,” said the trapper, turning to the others, “we’ll leave them here to ’tend to the camp, an’ make a good cup of coffee for us agin we come back, an’ the rest of us will take a tramp through the woods, an’ see what we can get for dinner. Take different directions now, so as to scare up more game.”
The boys immediately set out as directed, each accompanied by his dog. Brave ran on ahead of his master, beating about through the bushes, but not a rabbit or squirrel showed himself. But Frank kept on, taking good care to remember the points of the compass, determined that he would not go back to the camp empty-handed. At length Brave’s well-known bark caused him to start forward at a more rapid pace, and the next moment he heard some heavy animal crashing through the underbrush, just in advance of him, at a tremendous rate. The woods were so thick that Frank could not see the
Haversack.
