The Wilderness Fugitives by Edward Sylvester Ellis (good summer reads TXT) 📕

rest and food. Ned and Jo felt that the man could not do them a greater favor and kindness than to lead them into some retreat where they could recuperate in this respect,--sleep being needed more than anything else. Jo turned about while they were walking cautiously forward, and whispered to Ned immediately behind:

"Watch the route we take."

Ned nodded his head to signify he understood him. At intervals they reached and crossed small spaces of natural clearings, where Rosa and the youths scanned all the country that could be brought under their field of vision. In no instance were these very extensive, and the view resulted in nothing tangible as regarded the movements of their enemies. Much of the ground which was passed was rough and covered with stones. Upon these they stepped so carefully that they left a trail which it would require the keenest eye of the Indian warrior to detect and follow.


CHAPTER XXV.

THE HIDING-PLACE.

Twenty minutes or more was consumed by Worrell, in conducting the fugitives to the hiding-place, where he promised they should be secure from all molestation from their enemies. In making this journey they walked slowly, often pausing to examine the ground passed over, and to listen for those unfavorable signals which the straggling settler was sure he heard from the Iroquois. Thus it was that, in spite of the time consumed in making the expedition, they were really at no great distance from the starting point, and both Ned and Jo were confident that they could retrace their steps without difficulty.

"Here we are!"

As the guide uttered these words, he paused before a mass of boulders, or large stones, where there was an abundance of undergrowth, and the trees were so numerous that the view in all directions was almost cut off.

"I see we are here," responded Ned. "But what for?"

"Here is the hiding-place I told you about."

"Where?"

All three were looking inquiringly around, but their eyes saw nothing that could explain why the man called this a place of concealment.

"Do you mean that we are to crouch behind some of these stones, just as you did behind the rock, when you found I was looking at you?" asked Ned Clinton, with a laugh.

"Not exactly. Wait and I'll show you."

He walked forward a few steps further and turned to the right, approaching a large stone that looked heavy enough to require the strength of a Hercules to stir it. Nevertheless, with one hand he turned it aside, it being so nicely poised that there was no trouble in using it as a door on hinges. Drawn back, the astonished whites saw the entrance to a cave beyond. The indications were that, at some remote time, the stones had been placed in position by a party of aborigines of the country, and used by them as a retreat or dwelling.

"It is the very place," said Rosa; "for I have been inside."

"You? When?" asked her brother.

"Lena-Wingo brought me here one day last fall, when we were caught in a storm in these mountains!"

"What kind of a place is it?"

"There could be no better one for us. I thought of it this morning, and spoke to Lena-Wingo about it."

"What did he say?"

"He replied that he would probably take us here, if he found we had to keep out of sight for awhile."

"That is well, then. Mr. Worrell has done for us what the Mohawk meant to do later in the day."

"I don't know that I would not have proposed to you that we should come here after he left, if I had been sure of finding my way, but I wasn't."

"Is the interior comfortable?"

"It is in warm weather, for none of the sun's rays can enter, and the stones seem to give it coolness."

"As dark as a wolf's mouth, I suppose?"

"Not at all. There are several windows, made by crevices between the stones, which let in enough light to help us see where we are."

"The young lady speaks the truth," said Worrell. "She has been in and remembers all about it."

"How came you to find it when it is so well concealed?"

"I was hunting a bear in these mountains some two years ago and wounded him, when he started to retreat. I followed him as fast as I could, when he put straight for this heap of stones, and he would have got away if I hadn't come in sight just in time to see him pull that door aside with one paw and start in. I gave him a shot as he was doing so, and it finished him before he could get out of my reach."

The reports of the cavern being so favorable, the fugitives were glad to avail themselves of its shelter without further delay. Ned Clinton was the first to explore the retreat, he being obliged to assume a stooping position to enter it. As soon as he was inside, he called to the others to follow, and Worrell himself obeyed, Jo going next, while Rosa came last.

The place was not a disappointment in the least when viewed from the inside. The windows of which Rosa spoke proved sufficient to give all the light they could ask, and more than the young scouts expected to see. Besides, when they were fairly within it was noticed that the roof ascended, while the floor was lowered to that extent that they could easily stand at their full height--a luxury which any one in their situation would have appreciated. It was dry, and there was nothing to make them uncomfortable. Expressions of delight came from all, excepting him who had taken them to the retreat. He seemed to enjoy listening to the praise bestowed upon his choice.

"Ah! if some of the poor fellows who were fleeing from Monacacy and the woods, after the battle," said Ned, "could have stumbled upon this they would have been safe."

"And even if they had been seen," added Jo, "they could have turned it into a fort itself, and held out against ten times their number."

"Then why can we not make the same use of it?" asked Rosa. "It will serve us if Colonel Butler happens to discover where we are hid."

"He isn't going to discover us," put in Worrell, with a confidence which gave the youths greater faith in their safety than before; but which, strange to say, impressed Rosa in the opposite manner.

It was the manner rather than the words that grated on her sensibilities, and she found her old mistrust of the man deeper than before. It struck her that he was too ready to declare they were now beyond the reach of Colonel Butler and his men. It was like parrying a blow before it was struck, though the young men readily saw in the words which called out the remark sufficient cause for the same. With this suspicion came a conviction that, despite the critical position in which they seemed to be placed, when awaiting the return of the Mohawk, they had committed a perilous blunder in leaving the spot where he would expect to find them.

"I said there was no danger of our being discovered by Colonel Butler or any of his men; but maybe that was putting it too strong, for I suppose that we are always in danger as long as them redskins are within a dozen miles of us; but what I meant to say was, that there ain't any spot anywhere among these mountains where you can feel safer from the enemy than here."

This is what he ought to have said in the first place, as it seemed to Rosa, and yet the after effect of the words was almost as if they had been uttered at the right time. A strange compound is that which goes to make up the emotions of man and woman; for with the expression just given, Rosa Minturn experienced something like a revulsion of feeling, and reproved herself that she should have suspected the man at all. She saw in him nothing but a simple-minded hunter-settler, who was a fugitive for the time being like themselves, and was anxious to befriend them to the best of his ability. The most circumspect and devoted ally would have acted as he did. Because he was dressed in rather shabby attire, and was unattractive in person, should she doubt his loyalty? Had she not lived long enough to learn that "the rank is but a guinea's stamp," and that, though repulsive without, he might be "a man for a' that?"


CHAPTER XXVI.

CURIOUS PROCEEDINGS.

In the twilight of the underground apartment, the figures of each were dimly discernible, but there was abundance of room for all to circulate without interfering with each other. Ned conducted the girl to the furthest extremity of the cavern, where it would seem that the couches of the ancient occupants had been placed.

"You are wearied and tired," said he, in a tender voice. "Let me beg you to use your chance while it is here. Recline in the corner and Jo and I will keep watch."

"But you and he need rest as well as I!" she protested. "Why not seek it now?"

"Perhaps we may. I will talk to him, but don't think of us. Here seems to be some sort of blanket."

At this moment Worrell called out:

"You'll find a blanket near where you are standing. I left it a few weeks ago when I was hunting in these parts."

Everything seemed to be as they wished, and Rosa accepted the invitation, which was emphasized by her own sense of its need. She sat down on the blanket, with her head resting against a large stone behind her, just as she had sat many a time in the old armchair at home, and she had scarcely assumed the position when she sank into slumber.

"Well, now you are here," said Worrell, as Ned Clinton came back from where Rosa was reclining, "how do you mean to pass the time?"

"Jo and I, here, are half dead for sleep, and if we can put in a couple of hours or so, it will make new fellows of us."

"What's to hinder? Why don't you lay down and sleep all you want to?"

"It looks like running great risk for all three of us to commit ourselves to slumber when the Indians might steal in and nab every one of us."

Worrell laughed.

"I never seen anybody so backward about asking a favor as you. If I hadn't pumped that out of you, you two would have sat here winking, and blinking, and nodding for hours, just 'cause you had a notion in your heads that there was some danger in going to sleep."

"We may take turns about it," said Jo. "But we could not consent that all of us should be unconscious at the same time."

Again the fellow laughed, as though it was all a capital joke.

"I put in ten, good, solid hours of slumber here last night, and I can't do any more of it before midnight, if I was to be paid a thousand pounds for it."

"And you are willing to stay here a couple of hours while we sleep?"

"Nothing will give me greater pleasure."

"I don't know how we shall ever pay you for your kindness."

"By never saying nothing about it.