CHAPTER XXVII

ON THE TRAIL

AS he followed along the strip of open shore, Bob saw his impetuous brother drawing nearer and nearer to the floating dugout. He half expected to see some grim figure start suddenly into view, threatening Sandy with a deadly weapon, either gun or bow and arrow.

Now Sandy had reached up a hand and clutched the side of the boat. He exhibited not a sign of fear, from which fact Bob understood that, on getting close, he had recognized the craft as the one they had brought with them from their old home.

He saw the other pull himself up, and look within the boat. What would not Bob have given to see all that met the gaze of his brother just then.

Sandy's actions rather puzzled him, for the latter, turning half-way around, waved a hand toward him, as if to say all was well; after which he dropped back into the water, and started to tow the boat in the direction of the shore.

Eagerly did Bob keep abreast of the swimmer. Sandy did not try to fight the current, but was evidently desirous of getting to land as quickly as possible, regardless of all else.

And when he finally stood up where the water was shallow, and dragged the boat along, Bob, in his eagerness, waded half-way to his knees. What he saw when he looked over the edge of the boat thrilled him. At first he thought Kate must have met with some serious accident and was lying dead. Then he saw her eyes were open, and that a bandage covered her mouth.

Bob snatched his sister up in his arms without a second's delay, for Sandy was too exhausted after his swim to do much.

The cloth was hastily torn away, and then the sharp edge of Bob's hunting knife cut the leather thongs that bound the girl.

"What does all this mean, Kate?" cried Bob, in a voice that quivered with anxiety. "Oh! has anything terrible happened to father and mother, that we find you like this?"

She shook her head in the negative.

"No, no, nothing has happened to them. It was the Frenchmen who did it!" she explained, though with some difficulty, since the tight bandage had hurt her jaws.

Bob and his brother stared at each other.

"Do you mean Jacques Larue?" demanded Bob, furiously.

"And that other rascal, Henri Lacroix--the brother of the dead Armand?" Sandy added, equally enraged.

"Yes," replied the girl, looking as though, now that rescue had come, she would not be sorry to see punished the men who had treated her so badly.

"This is a wonderful thing," Bob went on; "tell us how it happened. Where were you when they caught you; and how is it you did not call out?"

So Kate explained how she had been taken by surprise, and, before she could say a single word, the hand of Henri Lacroix had stifled all speech.

"And they had your fine wampum belt with them, Sandy," she went on, eagerly. "He was wearing it as proudly as if he had saved the life of Pontiac, himself,--Jacques Larue, I mean. And they said that they wanted to pay the Armstrongs back for much that they had suffered."

"And, like the base cowards they are," Bob grated between his teeth, "they set a poor helpless girl adrift on the river in a little dugout that might be upset in some cross current, where the fierce eddies swirl!"

"And wouldn't I like a chance to draw a bead on either of them right now," said Sandy, looking all around him, as he fondled his faithful old gun, with which he had done so much execution among the game of the forests.

"But we should be on the way home!" declared Bob. "Father and Pat must know of this new outrage that we have suffered at the hands of these miserable trappers, who would rather spend their time stealing game that others have caught than to attend to a line of their own traps. If father lets us, Sandy, make sure we will take Pat with us, and start on the trail at once."

"To regain those little treasures mother mourns as lost forever; that is just fine," said Kate, eagerly, for she was a backwoods girl, and could recover quickly, after even such a shocking experience.

"Not to speak of our wonderful belt," added Sandy, who was slipping on some of the clothes he had discarded.

In a few minutes they were hurrying back along the shore. The boat had been pulled up on the beach and the painter fastened to a convenient tree, so that the chances were they would find the craft there, when some one came back after it.

Neither of the boys felt like paddling two miles against the current of the Mississippi just then. Besides, they were anxious to get back to their father. Perhaps the absence of Kate might have been discovered by this time, and considerable anxiety have been aroused.

But, when they came to the spot where their packs of venison had been left, the boys could not resist the temptation to obtain them again. Meat was needed too badly in the settlement to think of taking chances of the wolves running off before morning with the entire stock.

They had apparently entirely forgotten about having been tired before this new and surprising thing came about. At least, to see the nimble way in which the two boys advanced along the river shore, no one would think they exhibited the least sign of weariness.

In due time they approached the bustling scene where the men were chopping so industriously. Toward one cabin that seemed to be about finished they hastened. Mrs. Armstrong, chancing to come to the open door, saw them, and something seemed to tell her the boys were bringing bad news, for she waited for them there, and her face did not seem so filled with sunshine as it had been when they first sighted her.

When the story of Kate's second abduction had been told, Mr. Armstrong was furious. He readily agreed to the proposition advanced by Sandy, that he and his brother be allowed to take up the trail of the rascally Frenchmen as soon as Pat came home, as it happened unfortunately that the Irish trapper was somewhere out in the woods just then.

The other men were called in, and Kate told her little story again. Black looks told plainly what they thought; and for either Larue or Lacroix to have been seen by any one of those English settlers just then, would have undoubtedly meant his death warrant.

Of course they understood that news of their coming would now be carried to the nearest French trading post; but then they had not anticipated being able to keep this a secret long, it being the hope of Mr. Armstrong that the French would recognize in them allies against England, and thus condone their coming--perhaps extend to them the right hand of fellowship.

Several times Sandy would rush outside to ascertain whether Pat had shown up as yet. He had no eyes just then for the cosy interior of the new cabin. Later on, when this load had been taken off Sandy's mind, he would think just as highly as any one of the delightful comforts to be enjoyed beside the family hearth. Just now he could think of nothing but the miserable deed of those French trappers, and the fact that one of them was even at that moment wearing the valuable belt of wampum. The great Pontiac had bestowed this upon Sandy, because it had been a bullet from his gun that had pierced the arm of a madman who was about to bring down a war-club on the sachem's head.

The afternoon was going all too fast to suit Sandy. It would be dark before three hours, and then how could they overtake the Frenchmen, who, given such a long start, would get beyond their reach?

More than ever did he long to once again lay his hands, as the rightful owner, on that beautiful belt of sacred shells, which bore the well-known totem of the big chief under whom the various tribes had united against the palefaces.

Almost a full hour was lost in this way. Then Pat came sauntering in, never dreaming how his absence had fretted the boys.

Quickly he was made acquainted with the situation; and, no sooner had he heard about the two Frenchmen, and how they had treated Kate Armstrong, than Pat was on fire to take to the war-path.

So he and the two boys left the settlement. They headed directly for the spot described by Kate as the place where she had been surprised by Jacques and his equally bold companion.

Once there, the trained vision of Pat O'Mara quickly found the tracks made by the moccasins of the men. They followed them to the edge of the water, where according to the mark made by the prow of the dugout, it was plainly seen that the boat had been shoved out into the river.

Pat took up the trail from that point, and followed it very much as a trained hound might have done; only the sense of sight had to serve him rather than that of scent.

Close at his heels came the two boys, each with his rifle held in readiness for instant use, in case the enemy were sighted. They could not tell but that the reckless Frenchmen might have concluded to hover around, and wait to see if any of the hated English settlers tried to follow them.

But, as the afternoon wore on, and they kept making steady progress away from the river, they came to the conclusion that Jacques and Henri must have had some scheme in mind of cutting off a great bend in the river, the existence of which was well known to them. By making this straight cut across country, perhaps they were saving themselves many miles' tramp.

All of this was of course based upon the supposition that they meant to keep on heading into the south, and perhaps reaching the lower country at New Orleans.

As they walked steadily along, from time to time Sandy, of course, felt compelled to air his grievances, and he was always sure of a sympathetic auditor in his brother.