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Running Fox

<h1 id='t2769'>CHAPTER VII—THE MYSTERIOUS CANOE</h1> The Delawares had not gone far the following day before they came upon an inviting eddy in the river, and as the day was unusually warm they determined to loiter for a swim. The water was cool and refreshing, and they splashed about in great delight. Spotted Deer especially enjoyed it, for the cold water felt very soothing to the burning gashes he had received from the panther. In spite of their frolicking, however, the lads kept a sharp watch for foes. They soon saw the necessity of it, as Running Fox suddenly looked up the river and discovered something which caused them to scramble frantically to the shore. A bark canoe had suddenly appeared around a bend of the river, and was drifting slowly toward them. The lads watched it with great uneasiness. It appeared to be unoccupied and abandoned. Still the suspicious Delawares feared a trap. “Perhaps some one is lying down inside of it,” suggested Spotted Deer. “Well, we will soon be able to find out about that,” replied Running Fox. They studied the approaching canoe with great attention, but were unable to tell to what tribe it belonged. Running Fox had been well trained in the art of observing, and his sharp eyes soon told him enough to quiet his fears. “See, it sits high in the water,” he told Spotted Deer. “If any one was inside it would be low down and heavy.” “Yes, that is true,” agreed Spotted Deer. “But some one may be swimming on the other side of it.” “No, I do not believe it,” said Running Fox. “It does not tremble, and it leaves no trail.” Satisfied, therefore, that the mysterious canoe was deserted, the Delawares wondered how they might gain possession of it without exposing themselves to discovery. They feared that crafty foes might be watching from ambush, and they hesitated to show themselves. “See, it is moving toward land,” Running Fox whispered, excitedly. A short distance below them a narrow gravelly beach reached far out into the water, and they noticed that the canoe was drifting directly toward it. They watched eagerly until the canoe finally struck upon the projecting point of land. Then, as the canoe swung slowly about with the current, they realized that they must act quickly to secure it. “I will go out and catch it,” said Running Fox. He skulked through the bushes as cautiously as a fox. When he reached the spot where the canoe had struck he stopped to search the river for foes. Then he saw the canoe swinging stern foremost down the river. He realized that in another moment it would be beyond his reach. Throwing caution to the winds, Running Fox rushed boldly into the water and seized the prize. As he had guessed, it was unoccupied. As he drew it toward him it left a tell-tale mark in the gravel. However, he made no attempt to erase it, for he hoped that any one following on the trail would find it and be deceived. It made it appear that, having lodged for a time at that spot, the canoe had finally floated free and drifted down the river. Once in actual possession of the canoe, Running Fox signaled for Spotted Deer to join him. They waded with the prize until they found a safe hiding place, and then they dragged it into the bushes. They had found a long hickory bow and a buckskin quiver filled with arrows in the bottom of the canoe. “This is very strange,” said Running Fox, as he examined the weapons. The lads saw at once that they were different in pattern from their own, and they had little doubt that they were of Iroquois design. Still they were not sure. They stared at them in amazement. The whole affair was a great mystery. They would have given much to know how far the canoe had come, and how the weapons happened to be in it. “Whoever left these things in that canoe was very foolish,” said Spotted Deer. “Well, I see that he kept the paddle,” replied Running Fox. “That is true, I did not see that,” said Spotted Deer. At first the Delawares were inclined to keep the weapons, and hide the canoe in the woods until they returned down the river on their way to the Delaware camp. It would have been a splendid trophy, and they dreaded to lose it, but Running Fox finally decided to set it adrift. “This canoe has floated away, and some one will come down here looking for it,” he said. “If they do not find it, they will become suspicious. Perhaps they will look for our trail. We have a long journey to make, and we are in great danger. We will not take any chances. Come, we will keep the weapons, and give up the canoe.” “You are the leader, I will do as you say,” Spotted Deer said, resignedly. “But if some one comes after this canoe they will miss the weapons.” “We will fool them about that,” laughed Running Fox. They carried the canoe to the water, and as they set it adrift Running Fox overturned it with his foot. Spotted Deer laughed as he saw the reason for the wily bit of stratagem which would make the owner of the canoe believe that his weapons were somewhere at the bottom of the river. They watched until the canoe floated slowly from sight around a bend of the shore. “Now we must hide, and watch to see who comes after it,” said Running Fox. They concealed themselves in the bushes, and began to watch the river. All day they remained there, as alert and patient as a lynx waiting for prey. Nothing escaped them. Their eyes caught every movement, their ears heard every sound. “I do not believe any one will come,” said Spotted Deer, after they had watched a long time in vain. “We must wait,” Running Fox told him. Then, toward the end of the day, their patience was rewarded. They saw a second canoe coming swiftly down the river. They saw at once that it was similar in pattern to the one that had preceded it. It was guided by two sturdy paddlers, whom the lads recognized even at a distance as Mohawk warriors. It was not the first time that the young Delawares had seen those fierce fighters, for several had been captured and brought to the village by Delaware scouts. Now, however, they looked upon them with different emotions. The lads felt their hearts pounding wildly against their ribs as the Mohawks approached, but they had concealed themselves with great care and they had little fear of being discovered. At any rate there was no chance to retreat. “We must keep very quiet,” cautioned Running Fox. The Mohawks kept to the middle of the river, while they watched the shore for signs of the missing canoe. As they passed, the lads studied them closely. The warrior in the stern of the canoe was a powerful middle-aged man of threatening appearance, but his companion looked more youthful and pleasing of countenance. They turned the canoe toward the beach, and the Delawares wondered whether they would discover the mark in the gravel. They were not long left in doubt, for they saw the younger warrior pointing toward the spot, and talking excitedly to his companion. The latter seemed suspicious. It was apparent that he was watching the shore. Then he said something, and they moved slowly toward the beach. They spent some time studying the mark in the gravel, and the Delawares watched them in painful suspense. They wondered whether the crafty Mohawks would really be deceived by the stratagem of Running Fox. However, they soon saw that it had been successful, for the paddlers pushed out into the current and disappeared down the river. “We have fooled those warriors,” laughed Running Fox. “I could have sent an arrow into them,” said Spotted Deer. “That would have been very foolish,” Running Fox told him. “Perhaps you would not have killed them, and they would have gone back and told their people what had happened. No, we are in a dangerous country, and we must not let them know about us. If they see us it will be hard to get near their camp. The fox does not jump at the bear when he steals to his lodge for meat.” “That is true,” agreed Spotted Deer. “Well, I will be very cautious.” “Pretty soon those warriors will come back,” said Running Fox. “We must watch sharp.” As the evening shadows were settling upon the forest the Mohawks returned with the missing canoe. They passed close to the shore, and the Delawares had a splendid view of them. They saw that the faces of the canoemen were streaked with black. “Those warriors are painted for war,” said Running Fox, after the paddlers had passed from hearing. “Yes, I saw the black marks across their faces,” replied Spotted Deer. “Who are they going to fight?” “I do not know,” Running Fox declared, uneasily. “We must find out. Perhaps they are getting ready to fight our people. We will follow them.” They waited until they felt sure that the Mohawks were a safe distance ahead of them, and then they left their hiding place, and followed cautiously up the river. They soon came in sight of the canoes, and trailed them until darkness finally blotted them from sight. Then the Delawares were puzzled. They had expected the Mohawks to stop at the end of the day. The fact that they still continued their journey made the lads believe that they were either in a great hurry, or else were making toward some familiar camp-site near at hand. The latter possibility induced the Delawares to follow on the trail. They hurried along within sound of the water, straining their eyes to catch the warning flicker of a camp-fire. However, as the night wore on, and they failed to get any trace of the mysterious canoemen, the Delawares began to realize that they were exhausting themselves in vain. “It is foolish to keep going,” declared Running Fox. “Perhaps those warriors will not stop before it gets light. Perhaps they will stop, but if they do not make a fire we cannot find them. They are painted for war. Warriors on the war-trail do not make fires. If we try to go ahead, we may pass them. That would make things bad for us. I believe the best thing to do is to stop until it gets light.” “Yes, I believe it will be the best thing to do,” agreed Spotted Deer. They turned from the river, and reconnoitered carefully through the grim black wilderness in search of a safe stopping place for the night. They finally found suitable shelter in a thick stand of pines on the summit of a rocky knoll directly above the river. “This is a good place,” said Running Fox. “When it gets light we will be able to see a long ways along the water. Perhaps we will find the Mohawks.” They determined to keep a sharp watch until daylight, for they feared that their foes might be nearer than they supposed. It was agreed that one should remain on guard while the other slept. Spotted Deer said that he would take the first watch. He had not been long on guard when he heard the weird serenade of Gokhos, the owl. Acting upon the impulse of the moment he placed his hands to his mouth, and gave a perfect imitation of the call. Running Fox sprang up at the sound. “What was that?” he inquired, anxiously. “I am talking with Gokhos,” laughed Spotted Deer. “You are very foolish,” said Running Fox, as his eyes flashed angrily. “Warriors do not cry out like children when there are enemies about to hear. Perhaps what you heard was a signal. I have heard my father tell how the Mohawks use the voice of Gokhos to call one another. You have done a bad thing.” Spotted Deer accepted the rebuke in silence. He suddenly realized the peril of his act. It filled him with shame. He could offer no excuse. “Running Fox, I see that I have done a very foolish thing,” he said. “I did not think about it. Now I see that it may get us into trouble. I feel very bad.” “We will not talk any more about it,” said Running Fox. They listened anxiously, and in a few moments they heard the call of Gokhos again echoing through the forest. It seemed to come from farther up the river. The notes sounded perfectly natural, but Running Fox was suspicious. “I believe it is Gokhos,” said Spotted Deer. “Perhaps,” replied Running Fox. A short time afterward the cry was repeated nearer at hand, and Running Fox looked at Spotted Deer and smiled. “Perhaps Gokhos is coming to talk with you,” he said. “I believe it will be better to move away.” As they retreated cautiously into the night, the weird, mocking cry again came to them through the darkness. Running Fox strained his ears to find a flaw in it, but it sounded genuine. Still he was distrustful. “Well, perhaps it is only Gokhos,” he told Spotted Deer, “I do not hear anything wrong with it, but I do not feel right about it. We have seen the Mohawks. They were painted for war. We are in their country. We must not be too bold.” As he finished speaking they were surprised to hear Gokhos calling from somewhere down the river. For a moment it allayed their suspicions, for they realized that only Gokhos himself could have moved so rapidly. Then they heard the other cry farther to the northward, and their fears were strengthened. “Now I believe it is the Mohawks calling one another,” declared Running Fox. “We will stay here, and watch until it gets light.” <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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