CHAPTER XIV

BLACK BEAVER STRIKES

"OH! it must be a terrible mistake; you can't mean it, Mr. Harkness!" cried Sandy, white of face, and trembling like a leaf.

Bob, however, understood. He knew the settler would never have sought them out simply to carry an idle rumor. And probably, in that moment of acute pain, the young pioneer once again saw those beady black eyes of the Seneca chief, Black Beaver, as they fastened greedily upon the pretty face of little Kate. He, too, was thrilled with horror when he heard those terrible words; but, fortunately, he could control himself much better than his younger brother.

"Tell us, Mr. Harkness; is Kate lost; and do they only believe she has been carried off, or is it proved?" he asked, his voice hoarse with suffering.

"I am afraid it is but too true, my lad," replied the settler, as he laid his hand on the shoulder of the Armstrong boy.

"Did any one see it done?" continued Bob, between his set teeth; for he could not believe that any neighbor would have stood idly by, and witnessed such an abduction, without doing everything in his power to thwart the evil designs of the prowling red men.

"No. Kate went to the spring for water. Her mother thought once she heard a little cry, and was worried; but, stepping out of doors, she looked that way, and believed she saw Kate's shawl moving among the trees, as though she were stooping down to pick some late wild flower. Reassured, she returned to her work indoors. An hour passed. Then, suddenly she remembered the circumstance and, alarmed, she hurried to the spring."

"And Kate had disappeared?" exclaimed Bob, in dismay.

"Yes," replied the man. "Your mother called aloud again and again, her alarm increasing each moment as no answer came. Wildly she ran across to the cabin of Mr. Brewster, which was the nearest of all the neighbors. He happened to be at home, and, seizing his gun, immediately hurried to aid her, meanwhile sending his boy to sound the alarm."

"Yes, yes, and when they arrived what did they learn?" demanded Sandy.

"They had hardly reached the cabin when who should appear from the woods but your old friend, Pat O'Mara, returned unexpectedly from his last scout."

Both Bob and his brother gave utterance to a cry of joy when the settler uttered these words.

"How fortunate we are to have him with us now!" exclaimed Bob.

"So we all thought," went on Mr. Harkness. "When he had learned what was the trouble, O'Mara immediately made us all keep back until he could closely examine the vicinity of the spring."

"He was looking for the tracks of the kidnappers," remarked one of the hunters.

"Truly, it was a fortunate thing that so clever a trailer should have come into the settlement just when his services were so desperately needed," said another, who knew the Irish trapper's worth.

"O'Mara quickly found the imprint of many moccasins," resumed the settler. "He could tell just how Kate had been suddenly seized by an Indian, who crept up behind while she was stooping beside the spring. Her bucket was found in the bushes, just where the cunning rascals had hidden it, so as to make her mother think she had wandered away in search of butterflies, or to visit some favorite nook where she might be watching a late brood of young quail."

"But you said that, after the cry, our mother saw Kate moving about?" Bob ventured to remark, in puzzled tones.

"That was only another of the crafty schemes of the redskins," replied Mr. Harkness. "O'Mara showed us how one of her captors must have taken her shawl, and, throwing it over his head, showed just enough of himself to deceive the mother. They were evidently afraid lest her one cry might have been heard."

"Please finish," burst out the fretting Sandy; "for I am just wild to rush away home, so as to take up the trail. Is Pat O'Mara waiting for us to come in, so that we may all start out together?"

"Not so," came the quick response. "As soon as he found out positively what had come to pass, the trapper vowed he would himself pursue the fleeing Indians, and bring back the child of his friend, David Armstrong."

"God bless him!" murmured Bob, strangely moved by this evidence of the woodranger's devotion.

"Tired as he was with half a day's tramp," the settler went on, "and hardly waiting to replenish his stock of powder and ball, as well as to secure an extra flint and steel for his tinder bag, Pat O'Mara rushed away, following the trail."

"Alone?" gasped Sandy.

"It could not be otherwise," replied the other, sadly. "Here were eight of the defenders of the settlement away on a hunt. One man must be sent out to carry you the terrible news, as well as urge a hasty return. Since we thus knew that hostiles were apparently on the warpath, we dared not weaken our fighting force further, much as we felt for your good mother."

"Then let us hasten home without any further delay," said Bob, firmly, while the light of a great resolution shone in his brave eyes. "Take courage, Sandy; all is not lost! We can follow the wicked thieves; and already our friend Pat O'Mara is hot on the trail! How many of the Indians were there, did he say, Mr. Harkness?"

"I think four in all, counting the one who seized your sister," came the reply.

The eyes of the two boys sought each other's face; it was as though the same thought had instantly flashed into both minds.

"The young Seneca chief, Black Beaver!" exclaimed Sandy.

"He had three companions with him," Bob went on; "and, instead of continuing on to his far distant village, which he declared was away up on the shore of the Great Lakes, the treacherous dog has hovered about the settlement ever since that day, waiting for a favorable chance to come when he could steal our little sister away. That time came when he saw us depart with the rest on this big hunt!"

It was quickly arranged that Bob and Sandy should hasten on ahead in the company of the settler. Some of the others promised to bring in their share of the fresh buffalo meat.

Forgotten was their fatigue. Love for the sweet little sister, who had been a ray of sunlight in that frontier cabin, urged the boys on, so that they put the hardy settler to his best efforts to keep abreast of them.

And, before the afternoon was far spent, they drew near the cabin in the big clearing, where the resolute arms of David Armstrong and his two sons had built so comfortable a home.

It was now a scene of tremendous commotion. Men and women could be seen moving around, looking toward the woods, and shielding their eyes from the fierce sun's rays, while they watched for the coming of the eager brothers of the little maid who had been so strangely abducted by a savage and treacherous enemy.

Bob remembered the other occasion when, on arriving home, they had found neighbors gathered about their cabin; but how different the conditions were! On that day it had been to rejoice with the Armstrongs that the settlers and their wives had gathered; now it was to mourn, to comfort, to advise.

Mrs. Armstrong was prostrated by the dreadful calamity that had befallen her; for, to have her sweet child thus taken away, never again perhaps to be folded in her motherly arms, was a blow that caused her heart to sink with dread.

It seemed all the worse because the father was away, heading toward the rising sun, and himself exposed to constant danger from the foes that lurked in the dark recesses of the forest.

But, when her two brave boys had taken her in their embrace, and assured her that they would never rest until Kate were brought back, the poor mother took fresh courage. She knew that there was still a hope, faint though it might be.

The boys were filled with zeal. They knew that an expedition lay before them such as must dwarf all others in which they had engaged. Even experienced forest rangers might well pause before attempting to pierce that hostile country, where not a friendly white might be met, those they were apt to run across being the trouble-making French trappers and traders, who had come down from Canada in the hope and expectation of arousing the combined tribes against the English-speaking settlers, so that the entire country might be reserved for themselves, from the Great Lakes down to the town on the Gulf, near the mouth of the Mississippi River.

Many hands assisted them in making speedy preparations, for every one was deeply interested in their mission. Few expected to ever see the brave brothers again, although all such gloomy beliefs were kept in the background, so that they might not add to the woes of the poor mother.

This one brought a supply of bullets; another filled the capacious horns with the necessary powder, without which the adventurers would be next to helpless, once they were far away from the outposts of civilization. Still a third looked after a stock of pemmican, which was to sustain them as they pushed ever onward into the unexplored depths of that vast wilderness, teeming with dangers.

Sandy could think of nothing, he was so eager to be on the move; but Bob, besides comforting his mother, made sure that they had plenty of tinder; that an extra pair of moccasins was fastened to each belt, since they knew not when those they wore might give way under the long tramp; and also that both knives were in a condition of sharpness to give a good account of themselves.

All these things were done in a comparatively short time. The sun was still two hours high when they announced themselves as ready to start on their perilous journey into the unknown.

Mr. Brewster had assured them that their mother should be taken into his family, and guarded well during their absence. This kindness gave Bob new courage, for he felt that he could put out of his mind all anxieties concerning their home, and devote himself entirely to the rescue of Kate.

Several of the men announced that they intended accompanying the young pioneers a short distance on their way, to give them encouragement and a good send-off. Nor were the two lads averse to such a proceeding, as it served to soften the painful parting with their mother.

The trail was taken up at the spring. No particular effort had been made by the Indians to hide their tracks, and it was little trouble for such keen-eyed trackers as Bob and Sandy to follow the plain marks.

The dusky raiders had been careful, apparently, to avoid being seen by any of the settlers as they hurried away, after securing the white girl. Since no trace of Kate's little moccasins could be found, Bob knew that she must have been carried.

More than once he stooped low to examine the imprint in the clay of the leading Indian's elkskin footwear. It was his purpose to know any peculiarity that attached to those moccasins, so that he might recognize them again at any future time among a dozen similar tracks.

A circuit was made so as to pass fully around and below the settlement. Then gradually the trail began to near the border of the great river. Bob knew what this signified. Of course the Iroquois must have had a canoe hidden somewhere, in which they had crossed the stream.

One of the men was immediately sent back to secure such a boat, and hasten down the stream, so that it might be available should the boys seek to pass over to the opposite shore. Half an hour later the little company stood on the bank, waiting for the canoe to reach them, having signalled to the paddler as agreed upon.

Plain marks could be seen where a canoe had been carried from the bushes and launched, afterward being entered by the red men. There was something more awaiting them here on the bank of the beautiful river. A stick held a scrap of paper, on which were a few lines of crabbed writing. It was a message from Pat O'Mara; and, though the Irish trapper talked rather uncouthly, he could at least frame his thoughts in fairly decent English.

This then was what he had written:

"Indians crossed river here in canoe. Will follow, and, when find where landed, leave piece of red cloth in stick. Look for it close to water's edge."

That was all, but it signified much to the eager boys, who were only waiting for the coming of the dugout to themselves push across the river. Trust to their keen eyes to discover that tiny bit of flaming cloth!

"But where could he have found a boat?" asked Sandy, looking surprised, as this puzzle presented itself before him.

Bob shook his head. He knew the daring nature of O'Mara too well to believe that the other would halt in his pursuit simply because he wanted a canoe.

"A log upon which he could fasten his gun and powder-horn would be enough for him," he declared, positively. "This he would push ahead as he battled with the current of the river. Landing somewhere below, he could easily hasten up the shore, looking for signs. And long before now, Sandy, he is, let us hope, following on the heels of those treacherous wolves."

"Here is the canoe, Bob," said Sandy, drawing a long breath of relief; for he had fretted at the delay, counting the minutes while the settler paddled down to where they stood waiting.

Quickly they jumped aboard. The canoe was to be hidden on the other shore, so as to afford them a means for recrossing the stream when they returned from the chase. And how sincerely both those devoted brothers hoped that, when this time arrived, be it sooner or later, Kate would be in their company again.

A handshake all around followed, with words of good cheer from those who were compelled to remain behind, despite their desire to be with the brave boys. Then the canoe was pushed out upon the waters of the Ohio, and the paddles sent it flashing over in the direction of the opposite shore, where unknown perils must await the bold adventurers.

"Keep your eyes on the watch for any sign, of a red signal!" Bob kept saying, as they began to draw near the northern shore.

Sandy presently gave a cry of delight.

"I see it, Bob!" he exclaimed. "Just below us, there, where that willow hangs over the water. Pat O'Mara has been there, and found where they landed. Now we can take up the trail, and follow the stealers of our little sister, even if the hunt takes us to the big waters of the north. For never will we return while she remains a prisoner of the red men!"