The Hunters of the Ozark | Page 4

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