Osceola the Seminole Part 65

There was something mysterious in the behaviour of these hors.e.m.e.n. For what purpose had they fired their guns? If to signal the camp, why had they retreated from us, as we came from it? Why, moreover, had they gone off in a direction that did not lead to it? for its position was now known to them by the noise of the alarm they had themselves occasioned. To me their behaviour was inexplicable. Hickman appeared to have found some clue to it, and the knowledge seemed to have a angular effect upon him. He exhibited signs of surprise, mingled with strong feelings of indignation.

"Devil swamp 'em! the wuthless skunks, if't are them, an' I'm good as sure it are. I can't a be mistaken in the crack o' them two guns. What say ye, Jim Weatherford? D'ye recognise 'em?"

"I war thinkin' I'd heern them afore somewhars, but I can't 'zactly tell whar--stay; one on 'em's precious like the ring o' Ned Spence's rifle."

"Preecious like--it are the same; and t'other's Bill Williams's. What on airth kin the two be arter? We left 'em long wi' the rest, and hyar they are now--I'm sartint it's them, gallivantin' about through the woods, an' firin' off their guns to spoil everything we've done.

They've sot the Indyuns off to a sartinty. Devil swamp 'em both!--what _kin_ they be arter?--some h.e.l.lnifferous game, I 'spect! By the tarnal catawampus, I'll make both on 'em pay for this when we git thegither!

Come along, quick, fellers! Let's git the party up, or we'll be too late. Them Indyuns'll make track, and slope afore we git near 'em.

Darn the shots! they've spoilt the hull bizness. Quick! come along hyar!"

Obedient to the old hunter's directions, we hurried on after him.

CHAPTER EIGHTY ONE.

AN EMPTY CAMP.

We had not gone far before we came within ear-shot of voices, mingled with the hollow thumping of horses' hoofs.

We recognised the voices as those of our comrades, and hailed them as they came nearer, for we perceived that they were advancing towards us.

They had heard the reports; and, believing them to proceed from our rifles, had fancied we were engaged with the Indians, and were now riding forwards to our aid.

"Hollow, boys!" shouted Hickman, as they drew nearer. "Is Bill Williams and Ned Spence among ye? Speak out, if ye be!"

There was no reply to this interrogatory. It was succeeded by a dead silence of some seconds' duration. Evidently the two men were not there, else they would have answered for themselves.

"Where are they?" "Where have they gone to?" were the inquiries that pa.s.sed through the crowd.

"Ay, whar are they?" repeated Hickman. "Thar not hyar, that's plain.

By the 'tarnal allygator, thar's some ugly game afoot atween them two fellers! But, come, boys, we must forrad. The Indyuns is jest afore ye: it's no use creepin' any more. Thar a gwine to slope; and if we don't git up to 'em in three shakes o' a squirrel's tail, thar won't be a cussed varmint o' 'em on the groun'. Hooraw for redskins' scalps!

Look to your guns. Let's forrad, and gie 'em partickler h.e.l.l!"

And with this emphatic utterance, the old hunter dashed into the front, and led the way towards the camp of the savages.

The men followed, helter-skelter, the horses crowding upon each other's heels. No strategic method was observed. Time was the important consideration, and the aim was to get up to the camp before the Indians could retreat from it. A bold charge into their midst, a volley from our guns, and then with knives and pistols to close the conflict. This was the programme that had been hastily agreed upon.

We had arrived near the camp--within three hundred yards of it. There was no uncertainty as to the direction. The voices of the savages, that continued to be heard ever since the first alarm, served to guide us on the way.

All at once these voices became bushed. No longer reached us, either the shouting of the men, or the hurried trampling of their horses. In the direction of the camp all was still as death.

But we no longer needed the guidance of sounds. We were within sight of the camp fires--or at least of their light, that glittered afar among the trees. With this as our beacon, we continued to advance.

We rode forwards, but now less recklessly. The change from confused noise to perfect silence had been so sudden and abrupt as to have the effect of making us more cautious. The very stillness appeared ominous--we read in it a warning--it rendered us suspicious of an ambuscade--the more so as all had heard of the great talent of the "Redstick Chief" for this very mode of attack.

When within a hundred yards of the fires, our party halted. Several dismounted, and advanced on foot. They glided from trunk to trunk till they had reached the edge of the opening, and then came back to report.

The camp was no longer in existence--its occupants were gone. Indians, horses, captives, plunder, had all disappeared from the ground!

The fires alone remained. They showed evidence of being disturbed in the confusion of the hasty decampment. The red embers were strewed over the gra.s.s--their last flames faintly flickering away.

The scouts continued to advance among the trees, till they had made the full circuit of the little opening. For a hundred yards around it the woods were searched with caution and ease; but no enemy was encountered--no ambuscade. We had arrived too late, and the savage foes had escaped us--had carried off their captives from under our very eyes.

It was impossible to follow them in the darkness; and, with mortified spirits, we advanced into the opening, and took possession of the deserted camp. It was our determination to remain there for the rest of the night, and renew the pursuit in the morning.

Our first care was to quench our thirst by the pond--then that of our animals. The fires were next extinguished, and a ring of sentries-- consisting of nearly half the number of our party--was placed among the tree-trunks, that stood thickly around the opening. The horses were staked over the ground, and the men stretched themselves along the sward so lately occupied by the bodies of their savage foes. In this wise we awaited the dawning of day.

To none of our party--not even to myself--was this escape of the enemy, or "circ.u.mvention," as he termed it, so mortifying as to old Hickman, who, though priding himself upon his superior cunning and woodcraft, was obliged to confess himself outwitted by a rascally Redstick.

CHAPTER EIGHTY TWO.

A DEAD FOREST.

My comrades, wearied with the long ride, were soon in deep slumber--the sentries only keeping awake. For me, was neither rest nor sleep--my misery forbade repose.

Most of the night I spent in pa.s.sing to and fro around the little pond, that lay faintly gleaming in the centre of the open ground.

I fancied I found relief in thus roving about; it seemed to still the agitation of my spirit, and prevented my reflections from becoming too intense.

A new regret occupied my thoughts--I regretted that I had not carried out my intention to fire at the chief of the murderers--I regretted I had not killed him on the spot--the monster had escaped, and my sister was still in his power--perhaps beyond the hope of rescue. As I thought thus, I blamed the hunters for having hindered me.

Had they foreseen the result, they might have acted otherwise; but it was beyond human foresight to have antic.i.p.ated the alarm.

The two men who had caused it were again with us. Their conduct, so singular and mysterious, had given rise to strong suspicion of their loyalty, and their re-appearance--they had joined us while advancing towards the camp--had been hailed with an outburst of angry menace.

Some even talked of shooting them out of their saddles, and this threat would most probably have been carried into effect, had the fellows not offered a ready explanation.

They alleged that they had got separated from the troop before it made its last halt, how they did not say; that they knew nothing of the advance of the scouts, or that the Indians were near; that they had got lost in the woods, and had fired their guns as signals in hopes that we should answer them. They acknowledged having met three men afoot, but they believed them to be Indians, and kept out of their way; that afterwards seeing the party near, they had recognised and ridden up to it.

Most of the men were contented with this explanation. What motive, reasoned they, could the two have in giving an alarm to the enemy? Who could suspect them of rank treason?

Not all, however, were satisfied; I heard old Hickman whisper some strange words to his comrade, as he glanced significantly towards the estrays.

"Keep yur eye skinned, Jim, and watch the skunks well; thares somethin'

not hulsome about 'em."

As there was no one who could openly accuse them, they were once more admitted into the ranks, and were now among those who were stretched out and sleeping.

They lay close to the edge of the water. In my rounds, I pa.s.sed them repeatedly; and in the sombre darkness, I could just distinguish their prostrate forms. I regarded them with strange emotions, for I shared the suspicions of Hickman and Weatherford. I could scarce doubt that these fellows had strayed off on purpose--that, actuated by some foul motive, they had fired their guns to warn the Indians of the approach of our party.

After midnight there was a moon. There were no clouds to intercept her beams, and on rising above the tree-tops, she poured down a flood of brilliant light.

The sleepers were awakened by the sudden change; some rose to their feet, believing it to be day. It was only upon glancing up to the heavens they became aware of their mistake.

The noise had put every one on the alert, and some talked of continuing the pursuit by the light of the moon.