Читать книгу The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vista - Altsheler Joseph Alexander - Страница 5

The Norther did not blow itself out until noon of thenext day. Then it ceased almost as abruptly as ithad begun. The wind stopped its shrieking andhowling so suddenly that the silence, after so long aperiod of noise, was for awhile impressive. The cloudsfell apart as if cut down the middle by a saber, and thesun poured through the rift.

It was like a fairy transformation scene. The riftwidened so fast that soon all the clouds were gone beyondthe horizon. The sky was a solid blue, shot through withthe gold of the warm sun. The hail melted, and theground dried. It was spring again, and the world wasbeautiful. Phil saw, felt, and admired. Bill Breakstoneburst into song:

"From the looks of things now," he continued, "youwouldn't think it had been whistling and groaningaround us for about twenty-four hours, trying to shoot usto death with showers of hail, but I'd have you to know,Sir Philip of the Untimely Cold and the Hateful Storm, that I have recorded it upon the tablets of my memory.I wouldn't like to meet such a Norther when I was aloneon the plains, on foot, and clad in sandals, a linen suit, and a straw hat."

"Nor I," said Phil with emphasis.

Now they lighted fires of buffalo chips which wereabundant everywhere, and ate the first warm food thatthey had had since the day before at noon. Then theyadvanced four or five miles and encamped on the banksof a creek, a small stream of water flowing in a broad, sandy bed. Phil and some of the others scouted in awide circle for Comanches, but saw no signs, and, as hehad slept so late that day, the boy remained awake mostof the night. There was a good moonlight, and he sawdusky slinking forms on the plain.

"Coyotes," said Bill Breakstone. "At least, most ofthem are, though I think from their size that two or threeof those figures out there must be timber wolves. If I'mright about 'em, it means that we're not far from a beltof forest country."

"I hope you're right," said Phil. "I'm gettingtired of plains now, and I'd like to see trees and hillsagain, and also water that runs faster and that's lessmuddy than these sluggish and sandy creeks."

Bill Breakstone threw back his head and laughed withunction.

"That's the way with fellows who were born in thehills," he said. "Wherever you go, sooner or later you'llpine for 'em again. I'm one of that lot, too."

"Yes, it's so," admitted Phil. "I like the greatplains, the vastness, the mystery, and the wonderful airwhich must be the purest in the world, that's alwaysblowing over them, but for a real snug, homey feelinggive me a little valley in the hills, with a brook ofgreen-white water about six inches deep running down it, andplenty of fine trees-oak, beech, hickory, elm, walnut, and chestnut-growing on the slopes and tops of the hills."

"A pretty picture, Sir Philip of the Brook, the Hill, the Valley, and the Tree," said Bill Breakstone, "andmaybe we will see it soon. As I told you, timber wolvesindicate trees not far off."

But the chief event that day was buffaloes and nottimber. They ran into a vast herd, traveling north withthe spring, and killed with ease all they wanted. Thebodies were cut up, and the wagons were filled with freshmeat. There was a momentary quandary about thehides, which they wished to save, a process that requiredimmediate curing, but they were unwilling to stop forthat purpose on the plain. Two of the scouts came in atsundown with news that the timber was only three or fourmiles ahead, and the whole train pushed forward, reachingit shortly after nightfall.

The wagons stopped just within the edge of the timber, but Phil, Breakstone, Arenberg, and Middleton rodeon, the night being so clear and bright that they couldsee almost as well as by day. The first range of hills waslow, but beyond lay others, rising perhaps two hundredfeet above the level of the plain. The timber on all thehills and the valleys between was dense and heavy, embracing many varieties of hard wood, elm, hackberry, overcup, ash, pecan, and wild china. There were alsothe bushes and vines of the blackberry, gooseberry, raspberry, currant, and of a small fox grape, plentifulthroughout the mountains of Texas. The fox grape grew on alittle bush like that of the currant, and growing inabundance was another bush, from two to six feet in height, that would produce wild plums in the autumn.

"It's a good country, a fine country," said BillBreakstone. "A man could live all the year around on thefood that he would find in this region, buffalo andantelope on the plains, deer and maybe beaver in here, and allsorts of wild fruits."

Phil nodded. He was reveling in the hills and timber.The moonlight fell in a vast sheet of silver, but thefoliage remained a solid mass of dark green beneath it.A tremulous little wind blew, and the soft sound of freshyoung leaves rubbing together came pleasantly. A faintnoise like a sigh told of a tiny stream somewhere tricklingover the pebbles. Phil opened his eyes as wide as hecould and drew in great gulps of the scented air. Bigbronze birds, roused by the tread of the horsemen, rosefrom a bough, and flew away among the trees. Theywere wild turkeys, but the lad and his comrades were notseeking game just then. Bill Breakstone, who was inadvance, stopped suddenly.

"Come here, Sir Philip of the Hilly Forest," he cried,"and see what uncle has found for his little boy."

Phil rode up by his side and uttered a little gasp ofadmiration. As he sat on his horse, he looked into aravine about two hundred feet deep. Down the center ofthe ravine dashed a little mountain river of absolutelyclear water. It was not more than twenty feet wide, butvery deep. As Breakstone said, "it ran on its side," butit ran along with much murmur and splash and laughterof waters. Often as the swift current struck the stonysides of the ravine it threw up little cascades of foam likesnow. The banks themselves, although of stone, werecovered most of the way with clustering vines and shortgreen bushes. The crest of the farther bank was woodedso heavily with great trees that they were like a wall.Farther down, the stream descended with increasedswiftness, and a steady murmuring noise that came to themindicated a waterfall. The brilliant moonlight bathedthe river, the hills, and the forest, and the great silencebrooded over them all. Middleton and Arenberg alsocame, and the four side by side on their horses sat forawhile, saying nothing, but rejoicing in a scene so vividand splendid to them, after coming from the monotony ofthe great plains.

"I'd like to drop off my horse after a hot day's ride,"said Bill Breakstone, "and have some of that river runover me. Wouldn't that be a shower-bath for a tired anddusty man!"

"It's likely to be ice-cold," said Middleton.

"Why so?" asked Phil.

"Because it rises somewhere high up. There must bemountains to the northward, and probably it is fed mostof the year by melting snows. I think Bill would haveenough of his bath very quickly."

"If I get a chance, and there is any way to get downto that stream, I may try it to-morrow," said Billthreateningly.

"Meanwhile, we'll ride back and tell what we'veseen," said Middleton.

"Isn't there any danger of Indian ambush in thetimber?" asked Phil.

"I don't think so," replied Middleton. "TheComanches are horse Indians, and keep entirely to theplains. The other tribes are too much afraid of theComanches to remain near them, and in consequencethe edge of a hilly stretch such as this is likely to bedeserted."

They rode back to the wagons and found that thecooking fires were already lighted, and their cheerful blazewas gleaming among the trees. Everybody else, also, was delighted at being in the timber, where clear waterflowed past, and most of the wounded were able to get outof the wagons and sit on the grass with their comrades.Woodfall decided that it was a good place in which tospend a few days for rest, repairs, and the hunting ofgame, as they wanted other fresh meat besides that of thebuffalo.

The next morning they began to cure the buffalo hidesthat they had already obtained. A smooth piece ofground, exposed all day to the rays of the sun, waschosen. Upon this the skin was stretched and peggeddown. Then every particle of the flesh was scraped off.After that, it was left about three days under the rays ofthe sun, and then it was cured. Twenty-five skins weresaved in this manner, and, also, by the same method ofdrying in the sun, they jerked great quantities of thebuffalo meat.

But Middleton, Arenberg, Breakstone, and Philturned hunters for the time. They found that the hillregion was very extensive, timbered heavily, andabundant in game. They hunted wholly on foot, and foundseveral places where the ravine opened out, at which theycould cross the little river by walking, although the waterrose to their waists.

They had great luck with the game, shooting a halfdozen splendid black-tailed deer, a score of wild turkeys, and many partridges, quail, and grouse. Bill Breakstone, according to his promise, bathed in the river, andhe did it more than once. He was also joined by hiscomrades, and, as Middleton had predicted, they foundthe water ice-cold. No one could stand it more than fiveminutes, but the effect was invigorating.

A great deal of work was done at the camp. Theaxles of wagons were greased, canvas ripped by wind orhail was sewed up again, clothing was patched, and thewounded basked in sun or shade. Two of these haddied, but the rest were now nearly well. All except twoor three would be fit to resume their duties when theystarted again.

Woodfall, knowing the benefit of a complete rest, stilllingered, and Phil and his friends had much time forexploration. They combined this duty with that of thescouting, and penetrated deep into the hills, watchingfor any Comanches who might stray in there, or for themountain tribes. Once they came upon severalabandoned lodges, made partly of skins and partly of brush, but they were falling in ruins, and Bill Breakstonereckoned they were at least two years old.

"Wichitas, Wacos, Kechies, and Quapaws live aroundin the hills and mountains," he said, "and this, I takeit, was a little camp of Kechies, from the looks of thelodges. Two or three groups of them may be lingeringyet in this region, but we haven't much to fear fromthem."

Woodfall, intending at first to make the stay onlyfour or five days, decided now to protract it to ten ortwelve. The journey to Santa Fé was one of tremendouslength and hardship. Moreover, a buffalo hunter, straying in, told them that the Comanches were very activeall over the Texas plains. Hence the Santa Fé trainwould need all its strength, and Woodfall was anxiousthat every one of the wounded should be in fightingcondition when they left the timber. Therefore thedelay.

Phil was glad of the added stay in the hills. He wasdeveloping great skill as a hunter and a trailer, and heand his comrades wandered farther and farther every dayinto the broken forest region toward the north. Oftenesthe and Bill Breakstone were together. Despite the differencein years, they had become brothers of the wilderness.In their scoutings they found available pathways forhorses over the hills and among the great trees, and, starting, one morning, they rode far to the north, coveringthirty or forty miles. Phil was interested in some highmountains which showed a dim blue ahead, and Breakstonewas carefully examining the rock formations. Butas night came on they found that the hills were droppingdown, and the mountains seemed to be about as blue andas far ahead as ever.

"I should judge from these signs," said Breakstone,"that there is a valley or narrow plain ahead, between usand the mountains. But we'll look into that to-morrow.It isn't good to be riding around in the dark over hillsand through thickets."

They found a little grassy open space, where theytethered their horses, leaving them to graze as long asthey wished, and, lighting no fire, they ate jerked buffalomeat. Then they crept into snug coverts under thebushes, wrapped their blankets about them, and fellasleep. Phil opened his eyes at daylight to findBreakstone already awake. The horses were grazingcontentedly. The trees and bushes were already tipped with fireby the gorgeous Texas sun.

"Sir Philip of the Bushes," said Bill Breakstone,"you just lie here and chew up a buffalo or two, while Igo ahead and take a look. As I said last night, thesehills certainly drop down into a plain, and I want to seethat plain."

"All right," said Phil, "I'll stay where I am. It'sso snug in this blanket on a cool morning that I don'tcare to move anyhow, and I can eat my breakfast lyingdown."

He drew out a freshly jerked strip of buffalo meat, and another very tender portion of a black-tailed deer thathe himself had shot, and fell to it. Bill Breakstone, hisrifle held conveniently at his side, slid away among thebushes. Phil ate contentedly. The sun rose higher.The morning was absolutely still. The horses seemed tohave had enough grass, and lay down placidly on theirsides. It occurred to Phil that he, too, had eaten enough, and he put the remainder of the food back in his hunter'sknapsack. Then he began to get drowsy again. It wasso very still. He thought once of rising and walkingabout, but he remembered Breakstone's advice to lie still, and, against his will, he kept it. Then his drowsinessincreased, and, before he was aware of it he was asleepagain.

When Phil awoke the second time, he threw off hisblanket and sprang to his feet in surprise. The sun washigh up in the blue arch. It must be at least ten o'clockin the morning, and Bill Breakstone had not come back.The horses were on their feet and were grazing again.They were proof that nothing had disturbed the glade.But Bill Breakstone was not there. Nor had he comeback and gone away again. If he had done so, he wouldhave awakened the boy. He had been absent three orfour hours, and Phil was alarmed.

The boy stood up, holding his hand on the hammer ofhis rifle. This beautiful day, with its blue skies aboveand its green forest below, oppressed him. It was sostill, so silent, and Bill Breakstone had vanished soutterly, just as if he had been turned into thin air by thewave of a magician's wand! The boy was alone in thewilderness for the first time. Moreover, he felt thepresence of danger, and the queer little shiver which oftencomes at such moments ran through his blood. But theshiver passed, and his courage rose. He had no thoughtof going back to the camp to report that Bill Breakstonewas missing. No, he would find him himself. That washis duty to his comrade.

The boy waited a little longer, standing there in theshade with his rifle ready, and eyes and ears intent. Hestood thus for a quarter of an hour, scarcely moving. Thebrilliant sunshine poured down upon him, bringing outevery line of the strong young figure, illuminating theface which was thrown a little forward, as the blue eyes, gazing intently through the undergrowth, sought someevidence of a hostile presence. Finally the eyes turned tothe horses which were grazing calmly in the full circle oftheir long lariats. Phil decided that such calm on theirpart signified the absence of any enemy. If either manor beast came near they would raise their heads.

Then Phil moved forward through the bushes, puttinginto use all his new skill and caution. The bushes closedsoftly behind him, and he entered a slope covered withgreat trees without undergrowth. His eyes could rangeforward several hundred yards, but he saw nothing. Headvanced for a few minutes, steadily descending, and hewas tempted to shout his loudest or fire off his rifle as asignal to the derelict Bill Breakstone that it was time forhim to come back. But he resisted both temptations, and soon he was glad that he had done so. The slopewas very gradual, and he traveled a full two miles beforehe came to the edge of the woods and saw before him theplain that Bill Breakstone had predicted. He took onelook, and then, springing back, sank down in the covertof the bushes.

Before Phil lay a fairly level plain about a mile inwidth and of unknown length, as in either direction itparsed out of sight among the hills. In the center of itwas a shallow but wide creek which perhaps flowed into thenameless river. The valley was very fertile, as the grasswas already rich and high, despite the earliness of spring.

At the widest point of the valley stood a large Indianvillage, two hundred lodges at least, and Phil could notdoubt that it was a village of the Comanches. Hundredsof ponies, grazing in the meadows to the north, andguarded by boys, proved that they were horse Indians, and no other tribe dared to ride where the Comanchesroamed.

Phil could see far in the dazzling sunlight, and all thenormal activities of human life, that is, of wild life, seemed to prevail in the Comanche village. Evidentlythe warriors had been on a great buffalo hunt. Perhapsthey had struck at another point the same herd intowhich the train had run. Over a wide space buffalohides were pegged down. Old squaws were scraping theflesh from some with little knives, while others, alreadycleaned, were drying in the sun. Vast quantities ofbuffalo meat were being jerked on temporary platforms.Little Indian boys and girls carried in their hand bonesof buffalo or deer, from which they ate whenever they felthungry. Everywhere it was a scene of savage plenty andenjoyment, although signs of industry were not whollylacking, even among the warriors. Many of these, sitting on the grass, were cleaning their rifles or makingnew bows and arrows. Now and then one would make atest, sending into the air an arrow which some little boywas glad to run after and bring back. At another pointa number of boys were practicing at a target with smallbows and blunt-headed arrows. Two warriors on theirponies came up the valley, each carrying before him thebody of a black-tailed deer. They were received withshouts, but soon disappeared with their spoils among thelodges, which were made universally of the skin of thebuffalo. Down at the end of the village some warriors, naked to the breech cloth, danced monotonously back andforth, while an old man blew an equally monotonoustune on a whistle made of the bone of an eagle.

Phil, lying close in his covert, watched with absorbedeyes, and with mind and vision alike quick and keen,he took in every detail. The warriors were tall men, with intelligent faces, aquiline noses, thin lips, blackeyes and hair, and but little beard. The hair grew verylong, as they never cut it, and in many cases it wasornamented with bright beads and little pieces of silver.They wore deerskin leggins or moccasins, and a cloth ofsome bright color, bought from American Mexicantraders, wrapped around the loins. The body from theloin cloth upward was naked, but in winter was coveredwith a buffalo robe. The women were physically verymuch inferior to the men. They were short and withcrooked legs. Moreover, they wore their hair cut close, being compelled to do so by tribal law, the long-hairedComanche men and the short-haired Comanche womenthus reversing the custom of civilization. Both men andwomen wore amulets. The Comanches, like most Indiantribes, were great believers in dreams, and the amuletswere supposed to protect them from such as were bad.

Phil's roving eye lighted upon a small frame structurebuilt of slight poles, the only one in the village not ofhides. Such a building was always to be found in everyComanche village, but he did not know until later that itwas a combined medicine lodge and vapor bath house.It was spherical in shape, and securely covered withbuffalo hides. When a warrior fell seriously ill, he wasseated in this lodge, beside several heated stone ovens, onwhich water was thrown in profusion. Then, while adense, hot vapor arose, the shaman, or medicine man, practiced incantations, while men outside made music onwhistles or the Indian drums. The hot bath was ofteneffective, but the Comanche ascribed at least a part ofthe cure to the medicine man's incantations. YoungComanche men, also, often took a vapor bath before goingon the war path, thinking that it had power to protectthem from wounds.

Then Philip saw to the right a far larger buildingthan that of the vapor bath, although it was made ofdressed skins with just enough poles to support it. Thiswas the medicine lodge of the Comanche village, a buildingused for important purposes, some of which Phil wasto learn soon.

The boy did not doubt that his comrade had beentaken, and, unless killed, was even now a captive in theComanche village. He might be held in that hugemedicine lodge, and the boy's resolution strengthened to thetemper of steel. He could not go back to the trainwithout Bill Breakstone; so he would rescue him. He didnot yet have any idea how, but he would find a way.There were depths of courage in his nature of which hehimself did not know, and springing from this couragewas the belief that he would succeed.

While he yet lay in the covert he saw a band ofIndians, about a dozen in number, riding up the valley.They were apparently visitors, but they were welcomedwith loud cries. The leader of the band, a large manwith brilliant feathers in his hair, replied with a shout. IThen a horseman rode forth to meet him. Even at thedistance Phil recognized the horseman as Black Panther.He, too, was arrayed in his finest, and, as a great crowdgathered, the two chiefs slowly approached each other.When their horses were side by side, Black Pantherleaned over in his saddle, put his head on the other'sshoulder, clasped his arms around his chest, and gavehim a tremendous squeeze. The stranger returned thesalute in kind, and then the two, amid great shouts ofapproval, rode among the lodges, disappearing fromPhil's sight.

Phil watched awhile longer, but he saw nothingexcept the ordinary life of the village. Then he went backto the glen in which the horses were tethered. They werestill grazing, and Bill Breakstone had not returned. Philled them down to a little brook, let them drink, and then, after some thought, took off the lariats, coiled themaround the saddles, and turned the animals loose. Hebelieved they would stay in the glen or near it, as thepasturage was good, and the water plentiful, and thatthey could be found when needed.

Having attended to the horses, he returned to theedge of the forest and sat himself down to think out theplan of his great adventure.

It was his intention to enter the Comanche villagewithout detection, and, hard as such a task seemed tohim, it was even harder in reality. No race more warythan the Comanches ever lived. Besides the boys whohabitually watched the ponies, they had regular details ofwarriors as herdsmen. Other details served as sentriesabout the village, and the adjacent heights were alwaysoccupied by scouts. All these guards were maintainednight and day. Phil could see some of them nowpatrolling, and, knowing that any attempt of his would beimpossible in the daylight, he waited patiently for night.He had with him enough food to last for a day or two, and, choosing a place in the dense covert, he lay down.He called up now all the wilderness lore of Breakstone,Arenberg, Middleton, and the others in the train. Heknew that he must restrain all impulsiveness until theappointed time, and that he must lie without motion lestthe keen eyes of wandering warriors should see the bushesabove him moving in a direction other than that of thewind. He also laid his rifle parallel with his body, inthe position in which it could be used most quickly, andloaded the pistol. It was hardest of all to lie perfectlystill. He wished to turn over, to crawl to a new place, and his bones fairly ached, but he restrained himself.Naturally a youth of strength and determination, hismind took the mastery over his body, and held it fastand motionless among the bushes.

It was well that he controlled himself so completely.Indians came near the edge of the woods, and once someboys passed, driving a herd of ponies. But he croucheda little closer, and they went on. The day was fearfullylong. The high sun poured down a shower of verticalbeams that reached him even in the shelter of the bushes.The perspiration stood out on his brow, and his collarclung to his neck. He envied the freedom of theComanches in the villages and the easy way in whichthey went about the pleasure of savage life. Morewarriors, evidently hunters, came in. Some bore portions ofthe buffalo, and others were loaded with wild turkeys.

In these hard hours the boy learned much. He hadpassed safely through battle. But there one was borneup by the thrill and excitement of the charge, the firingand shouting and the comradeship of his fellows. Herehe was alone, silent and waiting. Enduring such as that, his will achieved new powers. A single day saw themental growth of a year or two.

The sun passed the zenith and crept slowly down thewestern heavens. Welcome shadows appeared in theeast, and the far lodges of the Comanches grew misty.Phil thought now that the village would sink into quiet, but he noticed instead a great bustle, and many peoplegoing about. Squaws bore torches which made a brightcore of flame in the increasing dusk, and Phil was quitesure now that something unusual was going to occur. Itseemed to him that the whole population of the villagewas gathering about the great medicine lodge. It mustbe the beginning of some important ceremony, and thetime to enter the Comanche village was propitious. Heinferred that on such an occasion the guard would berelaxed, at least in part, and as he heard the sound ofhundreds of voices chanting monotonously he preparedfor his great adventure.

The twilight faded, and the night came in its place, thick and dark. The sound of many voices, some singing, some talking, came clearly through the crisp, dryair. The core of light before the medicine lodgeincreased, and, by its radiance, he saw dusky figureshastening toward it to join the great group gathered there.

Phil took off his cap and hid it in the bushes. Hewould be bareheaded like the Comanches, wishing to lookas much like them as possible. Fortunately his hair hadgrown somewhat long, and his face was deeply tanned.Once he thought of stripping to the waist in Comanchefashion, but his body, protected from the sun, was white, and he would be detected instantly.

He spent a little time flexing and stretching hismuscles, because, when he first rose to his feet, he couldscarcely stand, and the blood, choked up in the arteriesand veins, tingled for lack of circulation. But thestiffness and pain soon departed, and he felt stronger thanever before in his life. Then he started.

He advanced boldly into the plain, bent very low, stopping at times to look and listen, and, also, to resthimself. More than once he lay flat upon the groundand allowed his muscles to relax. Once he saw upon hisright two Indian warriors standing upon a knoll. Theywere a part of the night guard, and their figures wereoutlined duskily against the dusky sky. Their faces werenot disclosed. But Phil knew that they were watching-watchingwith all the effectiveness of eye and ear forwhich the Indian is famous. At this point he crawled, and, in his crawling, he was so nearly flat upon hisstomach that his advance was more like a serpent's than thatof anything else.

He left the patrol behind, and then he saw another onhis left, and much nearer to him, two more warriors, whodid not occupy any knoll, but who merely walked backand forth on the flat plain. They were between him andthe great fire, and he saw them very distinctly, tall menof light copper color, with high cheek-bones and longblack hair. Both were armed with rifles, of which theComanches were beginning to obtain a supply, and theirfaces in the glow of the firelight seemed very savage andvery cruel to Phil. Now he flattened himself outentirely, and moved forward in a slow series of writhings, until he had passed them. There was an icy rim aroundhis heart until he left these two behind, but when theywere gone in the darkness his courage leaped up anew.

He now reached the eastern end of the village andcrept among the lodges. They were all deserted. Theiroccupants had gone to witness the ceremony that was nowat hand, whatever it might be. Not a woman, not achild was left. Phil stood up straight, and it was animmense relief to him to do so. It was a relief to the spiritas well as the body. He felt like a human being again, and not some creeping animal, a human being who standsupon his two feet, a human being who has a brain withwhich he thinks before he acts. It was strange, but thismere physical change gave him a further supply ofcourage and hope, as if he had already achieved his victory.

He passed between two lodges and saw a gleam beyond.It was the surface of the wide but shallow creek, showing through the dusk. The banks were five or sixfeet high, and there was a broad bed of sand extendingon either side of the water.

Phil glanced up the stream, and saw that it flowedvery close to the medicine lodge. An idea sprang up atonce in his alert brain. Here was his line of approach.He dropped softly down the bank, taking his chance ofquicksand, but finding instead that it was fairly firm tothe feet. Then, hugging the bank, he advanced withnoiseless tread toward the medicine lodge. Chance andhis own quick mind served him well. His feet did notsink more than a few inches in the sand, and the bankcontinued at its uniform height of about six feet. Hecontinued slowly, pausing on occasion to listen, becausehe could see nothing in the village. But occasional straybeams from the fires, passing over his head, fell upon thecreek, lingering there for a moment or two in a red glow.Above him on the bank, but some distance back, the firesseemed to grow, and the monotonous beat of the singinggrew louder. Phil knew that he was now very near themedicine lodge, and he paused a little longer than usual, leaning hard against the sandy bank with a sort ofinvoluntary impulse, as if he would press his body into it toescape observation.

He looked up and saw two or three boughs projectingover the bank. Then the medicine lodge was somedistance away, perhaps fifteen or twenty yards, and, therefore, the adventure would increase in peril! Anotherglance at the boughs reassured him. Perhaps there wasa little grove between the creek and the medicine lodge, and it would afford him hiding! The largest of theboughs, amply able to support his weight, was not morethan three or four feet above the bank, and, climbingcautiously the sandy slope, he grasped it and drewhimself up. Then he slid along it until he came to the crotchof the tree, where he crouched, holding his rifle in onehand.

He was right in his surmise about the grove, althoughit was narrower than he had supposed, not more thanseven or eight yards across at the utmost. But the treeswere oak, heavy-limbed and heavy-trunked, and theygrew close together. Nevertheless, the light from someof the fires showed through them, and at one side loomedthe dark mass of the medicine lodge. As nearly as hecould see, it was built directly against some of the trees.He crawled from his tree to the one next to it, and thento a third. There he stopped, and a violent fit ofshuddering seized him. The trees were occupied already.