The Hunters of the Ozark by Edward Sylvester Ellis (books to read romance txt) 📕

to the fact that she did not hear the call.

Reaching the edge of the stream, the boys began walking along the bank toward the left and scrutinizing the spongy earth close to the water. If the missing animal had crossed the creek she could not have failed to leave distinct footprints.


CHAPTER II.

THE TINKLE OF A BELL.

The examination of the shore of the creek had lasted but a few minutes, when Terry Clark, pointing to the moist earth at their feet, called out in some excitement:

"Do ye mind that now?"

There, sure enough, were the footprints of a cow that had entered the stream from the same side on which the boys stood. The impressions could be seen for some distance in the clear water, which in the middle of the stream was no more than a yard deep, and they were plainly observed where the animal had emerged on the other side.

"I don't suppose there is any difference in the tracks of cows, but I guess, Terry, that we are safe in making up our minds we are on the trail of Brindle."

"I'm thinking the same," replied the other, who was not only looking across the creek, but into the woods beyond, as though he expected to catch sight of the cow herself; "though it may be the one that crossed there isn't the one that we're after."

Fred Linden was asking himself whether there was not some way in which they could reach the other side without going to the trouble of removing their shoes and leggins, and hunting a shallow portion, or allowing their garments to become saturated. He exclaimed: "Why didn't I think of it? There's our canoe!"

A number of these frail craft were owned in Greville, and Fred had a fine one himself, which was only a short distance off. Three minutes later the two reached it.

The barken structure was moored by means of a long rope to a tree a considerable distance from the water, so that in case of one of those sudden rises that sometimes took place, it would not be carried away by the freshet. The boat was quickly launched, and a few strokes of the paddle carried the two to the opposite bank of the stream.

"I wonder whether there is any danger of a rise," remarked Fred, as he carried the rope to a tree twenty feet distant and made it fast to a limb; "there was a good deal of thunder and lightning last night off to the east."

"But the creek doesn't come from that way," said the surprised Terry; "so what is the odds, as me father said he used to ask when the Injins was on all sides of him, and a panther in the tree he wanted to climb, and he found himself standing on the head of a rattlesnake."

"The creek winds through every point of the compass, so it doesn't make much difference, as you say, where it rains, since it is sure to make a rise; the only question is whether the rain was enough to affect the creek so that it will trouble us."

"If it was goin' to do that, wouldn't it have done so before this?" was the natural question of his companion.

"That depends on how far away the rain was."

The boys were not idle while talking. The canoe was soon made fast, and then they resumed their hunt for the estray. They were not skillful enough in woodcraft to trace the animal through the forest by the means that an Indian would have used, but they were hopeful that by taking a general direction they would soon find her. If she still had the bell tied around her neck, there was no reason why they should not be successful.

But while walking forward, Fred Linden asked a question of himself that he did not repeat aloud.

"Has she been stolen?"

This query was naturally followed by others. It certainly was unreasonable to think that a cow would leave her companions and deliberately wander off, at the time she was milked twice daily. She would speedily suffer such distress that she would come bellowing homeward for relief. If she really was an estray, she had missed two milkings--that of the previous night and the morning that succeeded.

It was certain, therefore, that if she was stolen, the thief had attended to her milking. But who could the thief be? That was the important question that Fred confessed himself unable to answer.

There had been occasional instances of white men who had stolen horses from the frontier settlements, but the lad could recall nothing of the kind that had taken place in that neighborhood; all of which might be the case without affecting the present loss, since it was evident that there must be a first theft of that nature.

But, somehow or other, Fred could not help suspecting that the red men had to do with the disappearance of the animal. I have intimated in another place that Greville had never been harmed by the Indians, who were scattered here and there through the country, for there was no comparison between them and the fierce Shawanoes, Wyandottes, Pottawatomies and other tribes, whose deeds gave to Kentucky its impressive title of the Dark and Bloody Ground; but among the different bands of red men who roamed through the great wilderness west of the Mississippi, were those who were capable of as atrocious cruelties as were ever committed by the fierce warriors further east.

What more likely, therefore, than that a party of these had stolen the cow and driven her away?

There were many facts that were in favor of and against the theory; the chief one against it was that if a party of Indians had driven off one cow, they would have taken more. Then, too, the soft earth that had revealed the hoof tracks ought to have shown the imprint of moccasins.

You will see, therefore, that Fred could speculate for hours on the question without satisfying himself. He was sorry that he and Terry had not brought their guns with them, and was half inclined to go back. It was not yet noon, and they had plenty of time in which to do so.

"Terry," said Fred, turning suddenly about and addressing his friend, who was walking behind him, "we made a mistake in not bringing our guns."

The Irish lad was about to answer when he raised his hand in a warning way and said:

"Hist!"

Both stood as motionless as the tree trunks about them, all their faculties centered in the one of hearing.

There was the low, deep roar which is always heard in a vast wood, made by the soft wind stealing among the multitudinous branches, and which is like the voice of silence itself. They were so far from the creek that its soft ripple failed to reach them.

"I don't hear any thing," said Fred at the end of a full minute.

"Nor do I," said Terry.

"Why then did you ask me to listen?"

"I was thinkin' be that token that we might hear something."

"What made you think so?"

"The tinkle of a bell."

"What!" exclaimed the amazed Fred, "are you sure?"

"That I am; just as I was about to speak, I caught the faint sound--just as we've both heard hundreds of times."

"From what point did it seem to come?"

His friend pointed due south.

"Strange it is that ye didn't catch the same."

"So I think; it may be, Terry, that you are mistaken, and you wanted to hear the bell so much that the sound was in your fancy."

The lad, however, would not admit this. He was sure there had been no mistake. Fred was about to argue further when all doubt was set at rest by the sound of a cow-bell that came faintly but clearly through the forest.

"You are right," said Fred, his face brightening up; "we are on the track of old Brindle sure enough. It's mighty strange though how she came to wander so far from home."

"She got lost I s'pose," replied Terry, repeating the theory that had been hit upon some time before.

"It may be, but it is the first instance I ever heard of, where an animal lost its way so easily."

The boys were in too high spirits, however, to try to explain that which puzzled them. The cow was a valuable creature, being the only one that belonged to the family with whom Terence lived, and who therefore could ill afford her loss.

The friends had pushed perhaps a couple hundred yards further when Terry called to Fred that he was not following the right course.

"Ye're bearing too much to the lift; so much so indaad that if ye kaap on ye'll find yersilf lift."

"Why, I was about to turn a little more in that direction," replied the astonished Fred; "you are altogether wrong."

But the other sturdily insisted that he was right, and he was so positive that he stopped short, and refused to go another step in the direction that his friend was following. The latter was just as certain that Terry was amiss, and it looked as if they had come to a deadlock.

"There's only one way to settle it," said Fred, "and that is for each of us to follow the route he thinks right. The cow can't be far off and we shall soon find out who is wrong. The first one that finds Brindle shall call to the other, and he'll own up what a stupid blunder he has made."

"Ye are speakin' me own sentiments," replied Terry, who kept looking about him and listening as if he expected every moment that the cow herself would solve the question. Fred Linden read the meaning of his action, and he, too, wondered why it was that when both had plainly caught the tinkle of the telltale bell, they should hear it no more. Strange that when it had spoken so clearly it should become silent, but such was the fact.

Little did either suspect the cause.


CHAPTER III.

AN ABORIGINAL PLOT.

The boys tried the plan of Fred Linden; he swerved slightly to the left, while Terry Clark made a sharp angle to the right. They never thought of getting beyond hearing of each other, and, but for the plentiful undergrowth they would have kept in sight. They had taken but a few steps when Fred looked around and found that he was alone. He could hear his young friend pushing his way among the trees, and once or twice he caught snatches of a tune that he was whistling--that being a favorite pastime of the lad when by himself.

"It's curious how he could make such a blunder," thought Fred, with a smile to himself; "he will go tramping around the woods only to find that he was nowhere in the neighborhood of the cow. Ah, the storm is not yet over."

He was looking to the eastward, where the sky, as he caught a glimpse of it among the treetops and branches, was as black as if overcast with one huge thunder cloud.

"It was there it raged so violently last night, and the rain is falling in torrents again. We shall find the creek a river when we go back."

The sturdy youth pressed on fully two hundred yards more, when the old suspicion came back