The Motor Boys in Strange Waters; or, Lost in a Floating Forest
CHAPTER XIII
THE SEMINOLE CHIEF
Jerry’s faintness however, was of short duration. When Ned ceased trying to extract the stone the terrible pain subsided, for the time being, and Jerry opened his eyes.
“Let the professor take it out,” he murmured. “He can do it.” Then he caught sight of the advancing negroes. “Where’s the gun?” he asked.
Bob had secured it after Jerry’s fall, and at this, he raised it in readiness, though he did not point it at the black men. At the sight of it, however, they stopped. One of them, who seemed to be a leader, raised his hand and called out:
“What yo’ uns want heah?”
“We came to look at this curious mound,” replied the professor, speaking in conciliatory tones. “We were looking for relics. Why? What has happened?” he exclaimed as he saw the blood on Jerry’s foot. Evidently he had not heard Bob’s cry.
“I ran an Indian arrow head into my foot,” answered Jerry. “I guess you’ll have to get it out, Professor.”
“Looks as though we were going to have trouble with these negroes,” put in Ned. “We must look out.”
“Yo’ uns had better make tracks away from heah!” went on the leader of the black men. “We don’t like strangers heah!”
“We can’t go until I attend to this lad’s injury,” spoke Mr. Snodgrass firmly. “Lie down Jerry, and I’ll get the arrow out. This confirms my suspicions that the mound was built by Indians.”
“I’m pretty sure of it, judging from the way my foot feels,” said the injured lad.
He was sitting on one of the lower stone steps, and Ned was taking off his shoe and stocking. He had to cut the leather and cloth in order to remove them from around the arrow head which was still sticking firmly into the fleshy part of Jerry’s foot. The latter bore the pain bravely, though he had to grit his teeth to keep from yelling as Ned’s hands came in contact with the stone, moving it in the tender wound.
“Git away from heah!” ordered the negro leader. “This is our property an’ we don’t want nobody heah!”
“You’ll have to wait until I fix up this lad’s foot,” insisted the professor.
“We uns ain’t goin’ to wait.”
The negroes had gathered around their leader and seemed as if about to advance on the professor and the three boys. They were an ugly looking lot.
“Look out for trouble,” said Ned in a low tone. “I wish we’d brought our guns. Bob, can you shoot straight?”
“Don’t do any shooting,” advised the scientist. “They are too many for us and it would only make them more savage to fire on them. I must try other measures.”
The professor endeavored to argue with the colored men, but they insisted that the travelers must leave the place at once. There were greedy eyes taking in every detail of the dress of the party and the sight of the boys’ watch chains excited a cupidity that boded no good. The professor saw that their position was a dangerous one.
“I think we had better get out of here,” he said. “Can you walk, Jerry?”
“I’m afraid not.”
One look at his foot showed that it would be out of the question. Even with the arrow head removed it would be a task, and the professor dared not extract the weapon, as, while he was doing so the negroes might rush on them. Probably the worst that would happen would be robbery, but the travelers were in no humor to be despoiled of their possessions.
“We’ll have to carry him,” said Ned. “You and I can manage it, Mr. Snodgrass. Bob can act as an escort with the gun, and when we are in the boat you can attend to Jerry.”
This was voted the only feasible plan. Jerry’s foot was not bleeding much, as the arrow in the wound prevented a heavy hemorrhage. Still the lad was weak from the pain.
“Are yo’ uns goin’ to git out of heah?” demanded the leading negro again, and he advanced menacingly.
“We’re glad to get out of the neighborhood where such inhospitable people live,” remarked Mr. Snodgrass, as he slung his collecting box over his shoulder by a strap, and prepared to help carry Jerry.
Bob brought up in the rear with the gun, after Ned had gone to the aid of the scientist, and perhaps the sight of the weapon prevented a hostile demonstration on the part of the black men. They followed the travelers for a short distance, as they went on with the wounded lad along the path that led to where they had left the _Dartaway_.
“I hope they don’t give us any more trouble,” remarked Bob, as they neared their craft. “If they have boats they may come after us.”
“They’d have to have pretty good boats to get ahead of ours,” observed Ned.
It was no easy task to transport Jerry along the narrow path, and, several times, the professor and Ned had to rest. But they finally made a turn in the trail that put them on the straight stretch which led directly to the boat.
“There she is!” cried Ned. “Now we’re all right!”
As he spoke there was a rustling in the grass along the path. Bob, with ready gun, turned quickly. The boys had a glimpse of several dusky faces peering at them.
“The negroes!” exclaimed Ned. “They’re following us!”
“Hurry on!” spoke Bob. “Get into the boat and start up. They’ll not come very near as long as we have a gun!”
Even as he spoke the black men seemed to melt away like shadows and the rustling was heard no longer. On they hurried to the _Dartaway_. Jerry was placed on a pile of cushions, and Ned started the motor. As the boat swung out toward the middle of the river they saw, emerging from the bushes and standing on the shore, half a score of negroes, who shook their fists at the travelers.
“We’re well rid of them,” murmured the professor, as he prepared to extract the arrow head from Jerry’s foot. “But I wish I could have stayed at that mound. It was filled with historical relics and treasures, I’m sure.”
With Ned steering the boat, which, after it had gotten well away from the hostile negroes was sent along at slow speed, the professor called to Bob to assist him in affording relief to Jerry. The scientist saw that he would have to cut the weapon from the lad’s flesh, as the barbs held it too firmly to allow it being removed in any other way.
“Can you stand some pain?” asked Mr. Snodgrass.
“Go ahead,” replied Jerry grimly.
“If I only had some chloroform,” went on the scientist, “I could give you a whiff of it, and it would numb your senses a little. But I haven’t any. I guess you’ll have to stand it, my boy. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
The professor carried a small set of surgical instruments with him, for use in dissecting the animals and insects he collected. He now produced several shining knives, at the sight of which Jerry did not have the most cheerful feelings in the world. But he knew the arrow head must be removed.
Mr. Snodgrass cleansed the knives in some antiseptic liquid he had among his possessions, and then made ready to cut the weapon out.
“Keep the boat as steady as possible,” he called to Ned. “Bob, you hold Jerry’s foot. It will soon be out.”
Jerry had a dim remembrance that he had heard some one say that before. He recalled that it was a dentist. A faint feeling was overcoming him.
Suddenly Ned uttered a cry, and pointed ahead. The professor suspended his surgical preparations and looked up. So did Bob and Jerry. The latter was on the point of fainting.
What they saw was a canoe, containing a solitary figure, crossing the river. As they watched they saw the frail craft upset, and, a moment later the man who was in it was struggling in the water.
“Go to his rescue! Never mind me!” cried Jerry. “I can wait. Save the man!”
At a nod from the professor Ned speeded up the engine and steered the boat toward where the man had disappeared beneath the surface of the river. In a few seconds the _Dartaway_ was at the place.
“Can you see him?” asked Bob.
“Yes, he’s right here!” exclaimed Ned, reversing the screw and bringing the motor craft to a stop. “Pass me the boat hook, Bob. He seems to be held down by a tangle of grass or weeds!”
Bob passed the hook forward. Ned lowered it into the water and caught the blunt point in the clothing of the submerged man. With Bob’s aid he drew him to the surface.
As the man’s head came out of the water he shook it to relieve himself of the water. Then, taking a long breath, which showed that he had held it while deprived of air, he uttered a grunt and proceeded to climb into the _Dartaway_.
“He’s a negro!” exclaimed Bob in a whisper.
“Me no black man!” exclaimed the rescued one, shaking himself like a dog and thereby splashing water over all in the boat. “Me Indian. My name Ottiby. Me chief! Ugh!”
“An Indian,” murmured Ned.
“He is one of the Seminole tribe,” put in the professor. “I recognize the characteristics.”
“Paddle catch in long grass,” went on Ottiby, as if in excuse for such a child of nature as an Indian letting water get the best of him. “Me go overboard. Get caught in weeds. No can git loose. Steamboat come along. Boy pull Ottiby out. Good boy. Ottiby no forget. Can get canoe?”
This last seemed to be a question which Ned interpreted as a desire on Ottiby’s part to have his boat back again. Accordingly the _Dartaway_ was sent ahead again, and the frail craft, which was hollowed from a log, was secured, together with the paddle which had come to the surface.
“Good!” spoke Ottiby with a grunt, when he saw his property secure. “Me no forget white man and boys,” and he looked at the travelers.
As he caught sight of the knife in the professor’s hand, and saw Jerry’s bared foot, with the bloody arrow head sticking in it, the Indian gave a start of surprise.
“Boy hurt?” he asked. Then, without waiting for an answer. “Cut out arrow. Me know. Go ashore. Me get somet’ing stop pain. Ottiby know. Put ashore!”
“Steer the boat to land, Ned,” said the professor. “I believe we saved this Indian in the nick of time. He probably knows of some plant that I can use to make it less painful for Jerry while I cut the arrow out.”