The Keepers of the Trail: A Story of the Great Woods

Henry did not believe that Wyatt and his warriors could find them unless by chance, and as they were now many miles from the cavern, and the day was not far away, he began to think of a stopping place. Continued exertion had kept them warm, despite the rain, but it would not be wise to waste their strength in a rapid flight, continued a long time.

"All of you keep an eye for shelter," he said "Maybe we can find a windrow that will at least shut off a part of the rain."

He alluded to the masses of trees sometimes thrown down by a hurricane, often over a swath not more than two hundred yards wide. Where men did not exist to clear them away they were numerous in Kentucky, accumulating for uncounted years. But it was more than an hour before they came upon one of these heaps of tree trunks thrown thickly together.

Yet it was a good den or lair. Many of the fallen leaves had sifted in and lay there. Perhaps bears had used these recesses in the winter, but the five were not scrupulous. Their lives were passed in the primitive, and they knew how to make the most of everything that nature offered, no matter how little.

"I reckon we den up here," said Long Jim.

"We do," said Henry, "and we might go farther and find a much worse place."

The trees evidently had been thrown down a long time, as great masses of vines had grown over them, forming an almost complete roof. Very little rain came through, and, as they had managed to keep their ammunition as well as their blankets dry, the lair was better than anything for which they had hoped. Trusting to the darkness and their concealment, all five wrapped themselves in their blankets and went to sleep.

Now and then drops of rain forced their way through the vines and fell on the sleepers, but they did not awake. Such trifles as these did not disturb them. They were a part of the great wilderness, used to its ways, and troubled little by the ordinary hardships of human beings. The mental tension and the anxieties from which they had suffered were gone. The siege broken, and reunited, they could pursue the main force and the cannon with speed.

The great revulsion made their sleep easy and untroubled. Not one of them stirred as he lay beneath the covering made by the ancient hurricane, and every one of them breathed long and deep.

Nature was watching over them while they slept. They belonged to the forest, and the forest was taking care of its own. The rain increased and it was driven harder by the wind, but folded in their blankets they remained snug, while their clothing dried upon them. A bear that had hibernated there, fleeing from the rain sought his own den, but he was driven away by the man smell. A bedraggled panther had an idea of taking the same shelter, but he too was repelled in like manner.

The forest watched over its own not only through the night but after the sun rose. Braxton Wyatt and his warriors, consumed with rage, could find no sign of a trail. They had entered the cavern and seized upon the portions of venison left there, although the rifle escaped their notice, and then they had begun the vain pursuit. Long before day they gave it up, and started after the main army.

It had been Henry's intention to sleep only the two hours until dawn, but the relaxation, coming after immense exertions and anxieties, kept him and all the others sound asleep long after the dripping forest was bathed in sunlight. It was a bright ray of the same sunlight entering through a crevice and striking him in the eye that awakened him. He looked at his comrades. They were so deep in slumber that not one of them stirred.

He heard a light swift sound overhead and saw that it was a gray squirrel running along their roof. Then came a song, pure and sweet, that thrilled through the forest. It was sung by a small gray bird perched on a vine almost directly over Henry's head, and he wondered that such a volume of music could come from such a tiny body.

The squirrel and the bird together told him that nothing unusual was stirring in the forest. If warriors were near that morning song would not be poured forth in such a clear and untroubled stream. The bird was their warder, their watchman, and he told them that it was sunrise and all was well. Feeling the utmost confidence in the small sentinel, and knowing that they needed more strength for the pursuit, Henry closed his eyes and went to sleep again.

The little gray bird was the most redoubtable of sentinels. Either the figures below were hidden from him or instinct warned him that they were friends. He hopped from bough to bough of the great windrow, and nearly always he sang. Now his song was clear and happy, saying that no enemy came in the forest. He sang from sheer delight, from the glory of the sunshine, and the splendor of the great green forest, drying in the golden glow. Now and then the gray squirrel came down from a tree and ran over the windrow. There was no method in his excursions. It was just pure happiness, the physical expression of high spirits.

The shiftless one was the next to awake, and he too looked at his sleeping comrades. His task had been the hardest of them all. Although his body had acquired the quality of steel wire, it had yielded nevertheless under the strain of so many pursuits and flights. Now he heard that bird singing above him and as it told him, too, that no danger was near, he shifted himself a little to ease his muscles and went to sleep again.

A half-hour later Long Jim came out of slumberland, but he opened only one eye. The bird was trilling and quavering in the most wonderful way, telling him as he understood it, to go back whence he had come, and he went at once. Then came Paul, not more than half awakened, and the music of the song lulled him. He did not have time to ask himself any question before he had returned to sleep, and the bird sang on, announcing that noon was coming and all was yet well.

CHAPTER XII

ON THE GREAT TRAIL

An hour after the little gray bird had announced that it was noon and all was well Henry awoke, and now he sat up. The bird, hearing rustlings below, and feeling that his task of watchman was over, flew away. His song was heard for a moment or two in the boughs of a tree, then it grew faint and died in the distance. But his work was done and he had done it well.

Henry put his hand on Sol's shoulder, and the shiftless one also sat up.

"You've slept a week, Sol," Henry said.

"That's a whopper. I just laid down, slept a minute, waked up, heard a bird singin', then slept another minute."

"Just the same happened to me, but it's past midday. Look through the vines there and see the sun."

"It's so. How time does pass when the warriors are lettin' your scalp alone."

"Wake up, Jim."

Shif'less Sol poked Long Jim with his moccasined foot.

"Here you, Jim Hart," he said. "Wake up. Do you think we've got nothin' to do but set here, an' listen to you snorin' fur two days an' two nights, when we've got to overtake an Injun army and thrash it?"

"Don't tech me with your foot ag'in, Sol Hyde, an' don't talk to me so highfalutin'. It's hard to git me mad, but when I do git mad I'm a lot wuss than Paul's friend, A-killus, 'cause I don't sulk in my tent, specially when I haven't got any. I jest rises up an' takes them that pesters me by the heels an' w'ar 'em out ag'in the trees."

"You talk mighty big, Saplin'."

"I'm feelin' big. I think I'll go out an' stretch myself, bein' ez it's a fine day an' these are my woods."

The talk awoke Paul also and all went outside. Henry and Silent Tom scouted for some distance in every direction, and, finding no sign of an enemy, the five ate cold venison and drank from one of the innumerable streams. Then they deliberated briefly. They must find the trail of the Indian army and they were quite sure that it lay toward the east. If it were there they could not miss it, as a way for the cannon had to be cut with axes. Hence their council lasted only five minutes, and then they hastened due eastward.

Speed was impeded by the creeks and brooks, all of which were swollen yet further, compelling them in several cases to swim, which had to be done with care, owing to the need of keeping their ammunition dry. Night came, the great trail was still unfound, and they thought they might possibly have been mistaken in going to the east, but when they debated it again they resolved to continue their present course. Every probability favored it, and perhaps the Indian army had taken a wider curve than they had thought.

"I've had so much rest and sleep that I'm good fur all night," said Long Jim, "an' the ground bein' so soft from so much rain them cannon wheels will cut ruts a foot deep."

"That's so," said Shif'less Sol. "Why we could blindfold ourselves an' hit that trail. Out o' the mouths o' men like Long Jim wisdom comes sometimes, though you wouldn't think it."

"All that you are, Solomon Hyde," said Long Jim, "I've made. When I fust knowed you a tow-headed boy you didn't have sense enough to come in out uv the rain. Now, by long years uv hard trainin', mixin' gentleness with firmness, I've turned you into somethin' like a scout an' trailer an' Injun fighter, fit to travel in the comp'ny uv a man like myself. Now an' then when I look at you, Solomon Hyde, I'm proud uv you, but I'm prouder uv myself fur makin' a real man out uv sech poor stuff to start with."

"I'm still willin' to learn, Jim," grinned Shif'less Sol.

"The trail! The trail!" suddenly exclaimed Henry.

They had emerged from heavy forest into a stretch of canebrake through which ran a long swath, trampled by many feet and cut by deep ruts. Here the cannon had passed perhaps a week ago, and they could follow the ruts as easily as the wheel of an engine follows the rails.

"I 'low they can't make more'n ten or fifteen miles a day," said Silent Tom.

"While we, if we were hard pressed, could go thirty or forty, or more," said Paul.

"We could overtake 'em in three days," said Henry.

"An' hevin' done it," said the shiftless one, "what are we goin' to do next?"

"It's the cannon we're after, as we all know," said Henry, "and I confess that I can't see yet how we're going to get at 'em."

"I fancy we can tell more about it when we approach the Indian army," said Paul.

"There's no other way," said Henry. "If we keep close beside 'em we may get a chance at the cannon, but we've got to look out for Braxton Wyatt and his gang, who will be just behind us, on the same trail."

"Then we go straight ahead?" said Paul.

They followed the great trail nearly all night, under the clear moon and stars, a fine drying wind having taken away all the dampness. As usual Henry led and Silent Tom brought up the rear, the one in front keeping an eye for a rear guard and the one behind watching for the advance of Braxton Wyatt's force. The trail itself was leisurely. The speed of the cannon had to be the speed of the army, and there was ample time for parties to leave on hunting expeditions, and then rejoin the main band with their spoils.

"They're living well," said Henry, as he pointed to the dead coals of numerous fires, and the quantities of bones scattered about "They've had buffalo, bear, deer, turkey and lots of small game."

"It's an ideal country for an Indian army to travel in," said Paul. "The game fairly swarms in it."