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Running Fox

<h1 id='t4680'>CHAPTER XII—SMOKE</h1> Running Fox immediately took the lead, and turned toward the north. He believed that the Shawnees would hesitate to follow them far in that direction for fear of being led into an ambush. Besides, it was the only direction in which the Delawares could go without sacrificing their lead. It was not long, however, before they heard signals ringing through the night a short distance behind them. “The Shawnees are close, we must travel faster,” said Running Fox. Dawn was breaking when they reached the end of the lake. Having heard nothing further from their pursuers they believed that they had turned back. However, the fact that both the Mohawks and the Shawnees were painted for war kept them alert to their danger. They believed that a big battle was impending, and they felt sure that the wilderness was filled with hostile scouts. Shortly after sunrise, therefore, they stopped to rest, and hold a council-of-war. “I believe the best thing to do is to keep going ahead until the sun goes down,” declared Running Fox. “Then we will climb to a high place, and look for smoke. If we do not see it, then we must circle around. Yes, we must climb to all the high places, and look every way. I do not believe the Mohawk camp is beyond two suns’ journey away. Perhaps it is nearer.” “I do not see any other way to do,” replied Spotted Deer. They resumed their way into the north, keeping a sharp watch for their foes, and climbing to the tops of the ridges to search the sky for smoke. At the end of the day, however, they had seen nothing which would give them a clue to the location of the Mohawk camp. “Perhaps it is not near that water,” suggested Spotted Deer. “Perhaps we have gone the wrong way.” “No, I do not believe it,” said Running Fox, “I am thinking about something different. The Mohawks are at war with the Shawnees. Perhaps they are afraid to make fires.” “Then how can we find the camp?” inquired Spotted Deer. “I believe it will be a hard thing to do,” replied Running Fox. “We must ask Getanittowit to help us.” The following day they again decided to separate—Running Fox to make a half circle toward the east, while Spotted Deer made a similar detour toward the west. They agreed to meet at dark at a great spire-shaped rock on the summit of a low hill directly ahead of them. “No matter what you see, come back when it gets dark,” said Running Fox, “I will do as you tell me,” agreed Spotted Deer. Running Fox made his way toward a ridge of hills less than a half day’s journey to the eastward. He had traveled about two-thirds of the distance when he suddenly came upon the remains of a small fire. It had been made between two rocks, and cleverly concealed by a screen of brush. A few embers still glowed from the ashes, and it was evident that whoever had camped there had only recently departed. Running Fox circled carefully about the spot, trying to learn the identity of the firemaker. He found some tracks leading toward the east. However, he was only able to follow them a short distance, as the country was rough and rocky, and they soon disappeared. Running Fox believed that the crafty scout had purposely left a plain trail for a short distance to baffle his foes. The Delaware felt quite sure that farther on the unknown traveler had turned in another direction. “I must watch out for that person,” Running Fox told himself. He reached the ridge of hills a short time afterward, and looked anxiously toward the north for evidence of the Mohawk camp. The sky was clear and cloudless, however, and there was no trace of smoke. Running Fox felt troubled. He feared that the unexpected appearance of the Shawnees threatened the success of his expedition. Still he had no thought of turning back. Having made his boast to his father he determined to make it good, or sacrifice his life in the attempt. The day was well advanced, and Running Fox had about decided to leave the ridge and return to Spotted Deer, when he suddenly discovered a heavy column of smoke rising above the tree-tops a short distance south of him. It suggested many interesting possibilities, and Running Fox studied it closely. For a long time it puzzled him. He could scarcely believe that it came from the Mohawk camp. In the first place he felt sure that the camp was farther from the lake. Besides, there was but one dense column of smoke, while smoke from a village usually rose in several thin columns, or hovered above the camp in light hazy clouds. Running Fox decided, therefore, that the smoke which he saw must be a signal. The possibility quickened his interest. Then the smoke column began to waver and break. In a few moments he saw it separate into a number of puffs or clouds. They followed one another at short intervals, and Running Fox became convinced that some one was sending a message. He would have given much to have been able to read it. He searched the sky in all directions, hoping to see an answer but none appeared. “I believe some one is talking to the Mohawk camp,” said Running Fox. The Delaware realized that if his guess was true it was quite probable that the signal would go unanswered. He believed that it would be read by sharp-eyed sentinels who had been stationed on the high places to watch for it, but he felt sure that no tell-tale spiral of smoke would be permitted to betray the location of the village. If an answer were sent, Running Fox believed it would appear somewhere far away from the camp. Still, the mere sight of the signal filled him with hope, for he told himself that the Mohawk village was surely somewhere within sight. He waited until the smoke faded from the sky, and then as he saw nothing to indicate that the signal would be answered he hurried away to meet Spotted Deer. Darkness had already fallen when Running Fox approached the rock where he was to meet his friend. This time, however, his signal brought an immediate response, for Spotted Deer was waiting for him. “We have found each other—it is good,” said Spotted Deer. “It is good, my brother,” replied Running Fox. “Have you looked around?” “Yes, I have circled all around this hill; there is no one hiding here,” Spotted Deer assured him. “Then we will sit down and talk,” said Running Fox. Running Fox told what he had seen to the eastward, and Spotted Deer listened with great attention. The smoke particularly impressed him. He agreed with Running Fox that it must have been a signal. However, Spotted Deer was not so sure that it had anything to do with the camp. “Perhaps that smoke was sent up by the Shawnees,” he suggested. “Perhaps a Mohawk scout was talking with the war-party.” “Well, it may turn out that way, but I feel different about it,” insisted Running Fox. “Now you must tell me what you found out.” Spotted Deer said that he had gone a considerable distance toward the west without discovering any signs of his foes. Then he had climbed to the top of a mountain to reconnoiter. He had watched a long time when he finally saw what he believed was smoke far away toward the north. He had strained his eyes to make sure, but it faded from the sky before he could convince himself. Then he had set out to meet Running Fox. “That is what happened,” concluded Spotted Deer. “Well, we have not done much,” Running Fox declared, gloomily. “I believe the Mohawk camp is close. There is only one thing to do. We must keep moving around until we find it. We will wait here until the next sun comes. Then we will look around some more.” The following day they again scouted carefully through the woods in search of the Mohawk camp. This time, however, they remained together and turned toward the north. Running Fox felt convinced that the village was somewhere in that direction, and as he was the leader Spotted Deer was content to rely upon his judgment. “I believe there must be a trail going toward that camp,” declared Spotted Deer. “Well, I did not hear our people say anything about it,” replied Running Fox. Nevertheless they determined to keep a sharp watch for anything that looked like an opening through the forest. They continued toward the north for half of the day, and then Running Fox proposed that they should circle toward the west. “That will bring us near the place where you saw something that looked like smoke,” he told Spotted Deer. “Well, I am not sure about what I saw, but I believe it would be a good thing to go over there, and look around,” said Spotted Deer. Then for a long time they traveled in silence. Running Fox seemed moody and thoughtful, and Spotted Deer made no attempt to rouse him. The latter realized that a war-leader had many responsibilities, and he felt quite sure that Running Fox was meditating upon some plan for bringing success to his undertaking. “Spotted Deer, there are two things that trouble me,” Running Fox said, finally. Spotted Deer remained silent. He knew that it would not do to question a war-leader unless the latter chose to enlighten him. “First I am troubled because I have not found Gokhos, the great white Medicine Owl,” continued Running Fox. “If we had the skin of that mysterious bird I believe much good would come of it. But I am troubled about another thing. Yes, I am troubled about the Shawnees. They have come into this country to fight the Mohawks. It is a bad thing for us. I believe the Mohawks will keep many warriors around the village. Well, now I will tell you something different. I have set out to do this thing, and I am going through with it no matter what happens to me.” “Those are good words,” Spotted Deer declared, admiringly. “You will soon find Gokhos, the great white Medicine Owl, and then we will be able to do some great things. I am not thinking about the Shawnees——” “Stop!” Running Fox interrupted, excitedly. “I see smoke rising behind that ridge.” They saw a misty blue haze drifting above the top of a low ridge directly ahead of them. “That is the place I was looking at,” said Spotted Deer. “Yes, I know it by that big mountain over there.” “I believe we have found the Mohawk camp,” declared Running Fox. “We must watch sharp. If the village is on the other side of that ridge we are very close. Spotted Deer, I believe we are in great danger.” They immediately concealed themselves in the woods to watch. It was not long, however, before both of them agreed that the smoke came from the Mohawk camp. The thought filled them with joy. They believed that they were almost within sight of their goal, and they were eager to verify their hopes. However, Running Fox realized that it would be the height of folly to attempt to look over the ridge before dark. He had little doubt that, if the camp really was on the other side, the crafty Mohawks had stationed scouts along the crest of the ridge to guard the village against surprise. Therefore, he decided to wait until night came to his assistance. “We must stay here until it gets dark,” he told Spotted Deer. “Then we will creep up on that ridge, and find out if the camp is over there.” “I believe we will find it,” Spotted Deer replied, confidently. “Well, that smoke looks like camp smoke, but I am not sure about it,” said Running Fox. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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