CHAPTER XVI

THE FIGURES AGAINST THE SKY

"THIS is what I call hard luck," remarked Sandy, as he dropped his bundle of deer meat close to where the trapper sat upon the ground, rubbing his ankle.

"It is that same, by the token," grumbled Pat. "Av yees give me a hand, byes, it's mesilf will thry to sthand up, and say how well I can walk."

Willingly each of the lads took hold of an arm, and assisted him to gain an upright position; but, when Pat started bravely to walk, he made a sorry mess of it. He was a game fellow, however, and would not be dismayed.

"Sure, it may pass away afther I've given the ould thing a little exercise, like, and av yees say the worrd we'll pick up our packs and do be goin' on our way, rejoicin' becase it's no worrse. What if I'd broke me nick--that would have been a nice pickle for a man to be in!"

He even insisted on carrying his share of the venison, though Bob protested; but Pat was a stubborn man.

"Think av all the mouths to be fed, would ye; and why should I lit it lay here, where it wull do no good at all, at all, save to fill the stomach av a wolf, or make a wildcat feel happy? Sure it goes along wid me if I can limp."

And it did,--that is, for some little time, though Pat had to call for a stop, and rest, every hundred yards. Once he proposed that the two boys desert him, and make for the place where the boat was tied up above.

"'Tis only a matter av a mile or so, me lads," he said, "an' I'm dead sure ye'd be able to find the same widout much throuble. In good time Pat would come limpin' into camp. Kape the river on your lift, that do be all yees have to do."

"Well, that's something we'll never do, Pat, desert a comrade in trouble," was the vehement reply of Bob; and Sandy was even more emphatic; so the pleased Irish trapper had to be content with the way things were going.

"We've got the whole night before us," Bob remarked, in a low voice, for Pat had warned them to be careful, because there was no telling what might be abroad in the big timber bordering the river.

"And once we get aboard the flatboat," continued Sandy, in the same vein, "Pat can have his sprain looked after by mother; and there's no need of him setting his weight on that foot again till it's well."

It was at one of the resting spells that something occurred to Bob.

"I was thinking," he remarked in a whisper, "that, if we looked around, we might find some good stuff here."

"Stuff for what?" asked Sandy.

"To make a litter out of," replied Bob.

"Oh! you mean so that we could carry Pat between us, and the venison, too," Sandy whispered back.

"Yes, what do you think of it, Sandy?"

"Seems like a good idea to me; and, if you say the word, I'll begin to look about here right now, Bob," the other answered.

He was about to make the first move when Pat, who had been listening, broke in upon the conversation of the brothers.

"A litter is it that yees would be afther makin'," he remarked, quickly; "and to kerry me to camp like I was a dead soldier, so it be? Wull, I've no objections to ye makin' wan av the same to kerry the mate; but, by me faith, ye'll niver get Pat O'Mara to rist his bones on that litter unless he is out av his mind. An' av ye be falin' like another spell, lit's be away."

Of course, after that Bob could not insist, for only too well did he know the independent spirit of the Irish trapper. As long as Pat could put one foot to the ground he would persist in moving along; nor could Bob prevail on him to either throw his burden away, or divide it up between the other two.

"I'll do me share av the worrk, or know the rason why," Pat would answer back, every time the idea was mentioned; and, as long as he showed this obstinate streak, they could do nothing but let him have his way.

Bob was keeping his wits about him all this while. He noticed the direction they were taking, and could even give a pretty fair guess as to the distance yet to be traversed before they could hope to reach the tied-up boat.

"I don't believe we are more than a single mile away from them now; is that so, Pat?" he asked, as they sat there, resting again.

"Sure, ye do be a smart lad, Bob," replied the other, in his usual whisper, which the boys had come to imitate, though it gave a very mysterious air to their surroundings; "and, av I do know annything at all, that's about the distance we sthill have to cover. But don't be worryin' about me; for I tell yees I can make it by hook or by crook. It ain't often as Pat O'Mara--whist, he sthill now, both av yees!"

Bob felt a sudden thrill as the Irish trapper finished his sentence in this surprising manner. He knew what it must mean only too well. Pat had keen ears, even as he also possessed the eyes of a hawk. His long life in the woods had made him the equal of a redskin in these respects, as well as many others pertaining to following a faint trail, reading signs from the track of a wild animal, big or small, and such tricks as Indians know from boyhood.

It was plainly evident from his manner that he had either seen or heard something suspicious, and, under the circumstances, this could only mean hostile Indians.

Bob saw that the other was looking away toward the left, which was where the river must lie, for it had been their intention, after striking the water, to try to follow up the shore, hoping to take advantage of the shallow strip of open that often lay between the margin of the river and the dense woods.

At the moment they happened to be down in a sort of shallow gully. A low ridge arose between the spot where they rested and the river. The moon was very nearly half full and, where the great trees did not shut out the light, it was easy to see the top of this small ridge, for it happened to be bald in places.

Pat was staring straight upward toward one of these open spots; and Bob naturally allowed his eyes to travel in the same quarter. He heard Sandy give a low gasp; nor did Bob blame his brother in the least for thus allowing an indication of his astonishment and dismay to escape him.

For against the clear sky, plainly outlined in the moonlight, there was a figure, walking swiftly along the ridge, and heading up the river. There was no need for any one to explain what those feathers stuck in the scalplock meant, for Bob knew he was looking upon an Indian in his war dress. Doubtless, had he been closer, the paint that was daubed upon his cheeks and forehead could have been seen. Even the gun he carried, undoubtedly purchased by a bundle of rich furs from the French traders of the Mississippi posts, could be seen, as he picked his way across the little gap in the dark intervening forest, and then vanished beyond.

But already a second warrior had come into view, following closely in the footsteps of the leading brave, it seemed. He, too, was decked out for war, if those feathers that stood upright signified all the boys believed they did, and a gun was clasped in his hand, just as with the first dark spectre.

A third was in view even before the second had passed beyond the limits of the watchers' vision. A fourth came trailing along, then a fifth; and the grim procession continued to move along like a column of nightmare ghosts, until Bob had unconsciously counted twenty-two of the savages.

What a narrow escape they had had! Suppose either he or Sandy had been unwise enough to talk beyond the whisper which cautious Pat instituted as the margin of safety, what chance would they have had against such a host of cruel foes?

They waited for a minute or so, fearful lest there might be a straggler who had fallen a little distance behind the rest; but, when none appeared, Bob felt safe in speaking in the guarded tone used before.

"That was a close shave, now, I'm telling you," he said, drawing a long breath. "If we'd been moving at the time, I'm afraid they'd have discovered us long before we did them."

"Yis," grumbled Pat, "wid me makin' all the noise av a granehorn in the woods, a-draggin' me lift lig afther me. But sure, that's not the worrst av it, byes. Did ye not notice the direction the bog trotters do be goin'?"

"Up the river!" said Sandy, quickly.

"And the flatboat lies there, not more than a mile away!" gasped Bob, feeling suddenly cold all over, as a spasm of dread took possession of him.

"Oh! how can we warn them?" asked Sandy, getting to his feet, as though sorely tempted to start on a run for the river, so that he could try to make the camp before the murderous Indians reached it.

"Whist! be aisy now, and we'll thry and find some way to do the same," remarked Pat, as he painfully arose, and made ready to clutch hold of the impetuous lad, if there was any sign that Sandy really contemplated giving them the slip.

"But something ought to be done at once," remonstrated the other, his voice filled with emotion, as he thought of the loved ones who might be caught unawares by the savages and fall victims to their cruel tomahawks and knives. "Don't you think either Bob or myself might get there ahead of them, if we went along the edge of the river? Please, Pat, think quick now, if ever you did in all your life."

"'Tis that same I'm doin', me bye," the trapper replied. "Ye must pull up, and howld yer horses. 'Tis a time to do the right thing, or be the same token ye're apt to ruin the whole business. Just stop and remimber that afore we lift camp I arranged all that wid yer father."

"The signals, you mean, Pat?" asked Sandy, while Bob gulped down the lump in his throat that had threatened to choke him, for a sudden sense of relief had come to him.

"The same, Sandy," the trapper replied, laying a kindly hand on the arm of the excited boy. "Rist aisy now, would ye, for we have it in our power to sind warmin' to lit thim know danger hangs over the camp; and that they must git aboord, and cut loose down the strame widout delay. But, befoore we sind that warrnin', 'tis only the parrt av wisdom, do ye say, to lit the inimy cover more ground, so that we do be havin' a chanct to make our iscape, in case they sind back a parrt av their number to look us up."

Sandy, after all, could be reasonable, once he grasped the breadth of a plan, and he hastened to declare his reliance on the shrewdness of the Irish trapper.

"You're right, Pat," he said, huskily; "but oh! don't wait too long; make it soon!"