_
They endeavor to conceal themselves from the Indians. They are discovered. A frightful encounter. Escape of Mahnewe. They pursue their journey in the night and take a wrong direction. Discovery of a river, over which they cross. Came to a prairie. Desolate appearance of the country. Approach a sandy desert and conclude to cross it. They provide themselves with ample provisions and set out over the cheerless waste. All the next day they remained concealed in order to escape observation, and to allow the strange Indians to go far enough away so that they could proceed without being molested. Which way to journey next was a difficult question to them, but as it would be quite impossible to cross the barren, rocky hills before them, they finally determined to go down the stream until they came to the terminus of the hills that the chief had seen, and instead of crossing over as he had done to strike out into the woodland beyond the dell, and take their course on as far as it extended. Having made everything ready for an early start the next morning, they laid down to sleep. About midnight they were awakened by the blinding glare of torches, and found three hideous savages bending over them with raised tomahawks. Comprehending at once the nature of the assault, they sprang to their feet and attacked their assailants. The chief had the fortune to cleave the skull of the one nearest him at the first blow of his tomahawk, and turning, saw another who had the trapper at disadvantage, with tomahawk raised above his head, and with a dexterous blow he disabled the arm raised with the murderous weapon. In a moment he would have killed the Indian had not the screams of Jane, whom the remaining savage attempted to carry off in his arms after knocking Sidney senseless with his war-club, made him forget all else, and spring to her rescue. The trapper, who was not hurt, made a blow at his assailant, but he evaded it and tied into the forest where Howe thought it not prudent to follow, as he imagined a whole ambuscade of Indians might be in waiting to seize upon him. Hastening to the assistance of Whirlwind, he saw him closed hand to hand with the savage, their hunting-knives being their only weapons, both having dropped their tomahawks. Howe saw they were equally matched, and fearing the chief would get a bad wound, raised a club and dealt the savage a blow that felled him to the ground. The chief soon despatched him, and then they turned to Sidney and Edward. Already were they reviving, not having received any serious wounds. The copious gourds of water that Jane had sprinkled over them were all the care they needed. They now bethought themselves of Mahnewe. She was gone; not a vestige or clue remaining of her or the child.
"Betrayed!" said the chief with compressed lips and glistening eyes.
"Oh, no; she has never betrayed us!" said the trapper. "I fear there was more than three of the savages, and they have stolen her."
"It is horrible! they will kill her! Oh, uncle, cannot we pursue and overtake them?" said Jane.
"I will go and bring her scalp," said the chief. "She is a foe and has led the dogs to murder her benefactors."
"No; we shall have to leave her to her fate," said Howe. "One of the Indians has escaped to give the alarm, and perhaps within this hour or as soon as daylight, the whole tribe will be down upon us. Our only hope for our own lives is in flight. Our horses may out-travel them if they defer the attack until daylight. Fortunately for us the horses are fresh and strong."
Hastily mounting in the darkness, with no light save the faint glimmer of the stars, they plunged into the unknown wilds before them, Whirlwind leading them as a guide. But instead of taking the direction they had determined on after a long consultation the day before, they mistook the route in their haste and the darkness, and fled north-west of it; but they pursued their way in silence.
At last the welcome day broke, and halting to take a drink themselves and water their horses, they remounted, and galloped rapidly through the forest. In about two hours they came to the bank of a river, the largest they had seen in their wanderings. Entering this in order to throw their pursuers off the track, they rode up it as long as the river continued wide, but as it contracted the water became too deep to be breasted by the horses, and they crossed to the opposite bank. Here, to their great sorrow, their goat and her kid gave out, and no urging could induce them to proceed. The animals had evidently gone as far as they were capable, and with sorrow they turned them loose and left them. The goat's milk had been such an indispensable addition to their store that they felt as if parting with one of their main reliances in leaving her behind.
Still they pursued their way, avoiding the hills as much as possible until the sun was high in the heavens; when becoming weary with their hard ride, and faint for want of food, they halted in a spot where a cool spring gushed from beneath a huge boulder that looked as if it had been hurled from a rocky acclivity above to its bed. Tethering their horses where they could feed, they set a guard and began with all haste to eat such as their provision bags afforded. Cooking was out of the question, for the smoke would point out the exact spot where they were, a thing they were most desirous to hide.
They now calculated they were thirty miles from the place of their last encampment, and beyond the danger of being overtaken, provided their enemies had no horses, which they thought quite probable. However, they deemed it imprudent to rely on such a supposition; and after an hour's halt, they again moved on, pausing occasionally to refresh themselves, until towards sunset, when the ground became more even and the soil more sandy. Here they noticed the vegetation was becoming more sparse, what trees there were having a stunted and gnarled appearance; after a long search they found a spring of pure water, by which they encamped for the night, being now relieved from the fear of an attack; for, had they been ever so well mounted they could not have made a greater distance than they had, and having the advantage of a start of their pursuers they calculated on a certain escape. They were unmolested through the night; and early in the morning they again set forth. At noon where they halted the face of the country was much as it was when they set out in the morning; but, after a rapid ride in the afternoon, the vegetation entirely disappeared except the rank grass, leaving a broad prairie before them. Here they paused, resolving to rest themselves before they proceeded farther.
Alas! had they only known which way to proceed,--what direction would lead them to their home and friends, it would have been well with them. But they had pursued so many different directions they had become bewildered, and all courses seemed to them alike. The next and the next day passed over and found them undecided whether it was best to cross over the prairie or not; but the third day they concluded to do so, and refreshed and invigorated they set out. Two days of their journey they found occasional supplies of water, and on the third towards noon they came to its boundary. The forest skirting the border of the prairie was a clump of stunted trees, and there was very little grass or shrubs growing around. Everything looked forlorn and desolate about them, offering but scanty subsistence for themselves or beasts.
Following the forest down a short distance they found a tolerable camping ground where they spent the night. The next day on riding through the forest about three miles they found that it terminated, leaving a field of sand without a blade of grass or shrub growing upon it. It was nothing but sand, drear and desolate as far as the eye could reach. They were stupefied, and gazed sadly on the barren waste before them.
"This," at last said the trapper, "is the desert of which we have heard by vague rumors and traditions, but of which, until now, I never believed existed. We have undoubtedly made our way on the opposite side, and it will be necessary for us to either go across or round it in order to get home. The nearest course is across, and even when there, we shall be many hundred miles from home."
Jane could hardly repress the sob that arose as her uncle announced the dismal prospect that lay before them, and even hope almost died in her heart. For the first time she entertained the thought that there was a probability of ending their days in those unknown, unbroken regions. Whirlwind saw the emotion that was stirring her heart, for he was a keen observer, and read human nature with that accuracy peculiarly characteristic of the Indian. Placing himself by her side, he said in a mild tone--
"Why is the antelope troubled? is not her warrior by her side to make her a new home? The wilderness encircles us on every side, and the Great Spirit makes a barrier of sand that we cannot escape. It is his will that we remain; let us not attempt to leave the forest."
"Look here, chief, let Jane alone," said Sidney, angrily, as he attempted to draw her from Whirlwind.
"Sidney," said Howe, in an authoritative tone, "how long will it be before you learn prudence?"
An angry retort rose to his lips, but catching the pleading eye of the young girl fixed upon him, he remained silent and walked away.
"Come, chief, what say you, shall we strike the desert or not."
"Were I to consult my own inclination, I should say not, but return to our quarters, and prepare for winter."
"That is out of the question, chief; go home we must," spoke up Edward, with a tone of energy and decision quite new to him.
"Yes, go home! we not only
must, but
will," said Sidney.
"If we can get home," added Jane, sadly.
"We will do our best," said Howe, in a cheerful tone. He saw, too, that he had an arduous trial to contend with in the angry feelings Sidney entertained for the chief, which to his credit the chief never seemed to notice or resent. He knew the temper of the chieftain well, and knew him patient and forgiving, but knew him also unrelenting in his hate, when his anger was aroused. Howe's policy was to keep up a unity of feeling and purpose between every member of his little band, as he well knew a division would weaken their exertions, and cripple their efforts to extricate themselves from the trials that every day were thickening and becoming more complicated around them.
A consultation ensued, in which they came to the conclusion to cross the desert; but, as tradition said there was not a drop of water or a blade of grass to be had between the two boundaries, and that the desert was two days' journey across, they retreated to a spot where grass and water could be collected in quantities sufficient to last them the three days they would be in crossing the barren waste. Happily they were well provided with horses, having still in their possession those that had been appropriated to the use of Oudin and Mahnewe, as well as the two pack horses. Gathering large quantities of grass by cutting it up with their hunting knives, they bound it in compact bundles; then taking some skins, they sewed them up, making them tight and secure for water-bags. The morning of the third day found them ready for their perilous adventure. Each one taking a water-bag, a bundle of grass and provision on his own horse, sufficient to last them through the first day, which, together with the four horses heavily laden with provision, water and grass, they thought quite sufficient to last them, double the time they intended being on the desert.
Hope again gilded the future to the wanderers as they surveyed with satisfaction the result of their labors; and, when they turned their horses towards the sandy plain before them, their hearts were elated, and a feeling of security against its terrors made them even gay and joyous. It is well the future is always hid from view; were it not, the heart would faint and shrink from its trials when called to endure them, and instead of bravely contending with them, it would be palsied and weakened by fear. _