The Lost Trail

Edward S. Ellis
The Lost Trail, by Edward S.
Ellis

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Title: The Lost Trail
Author: Edward S. Ellis
Release Date: February 18, 2004 [eBook #11151]
Language: English
Character set encoding: US-ASCII
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TRAIL***
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THE LOST TRAIL
BY EDWARD S. ELLIS
AUTHOR OF "SETH JONES," "THE FOREST SPY," ETC., ETC.
1911

[Illustration: "THAT INDIAN HAS CARRIED CORA
AWAY!"--Frontispiece.]

CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I.
The Shadow II. The Adventures of a Night III. The Jug Acquaintances
IV. An Ominous Rencounter V. Gone VI. The Lost Trail VII. A
Hibernian's Search for the Trail VIII. The Trail of Death IX. The Dead
Shot X. Conclusion

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
He held his long rifle in his right hand, while he drew the shrubbery
apart with his left, and looked forth at the canoe.

"A purty question, ye murtherin haythen!"
"Where does yees get the jug?"
Dealt the savage a tremendous blow
"Well, At-to-uck," said he, kindly, "you seem troubled."
The trail was lost!
"And so, Teddy, ye're sayin' it war a white man that took away the
missionary's wife."
"It's all up!" muttered the dying man. "I am wiped out at last, and must
go under!"
"Harvey Richter--don't you know me?" he gasped.

THE LOST TRAIL.
CHAPTER I.
THE SHADOW.
Ye who love the haunts of nature, Love the sunshine of the meadow,
Love the shadow of the forest, Love the wind among the branches, And
the rain-shower and the snow-storm, And the rushing of great rivers.
Listen to these wild traditions.--HIAWATHA.
One day in the spring of 1820, a singular occurrence took place on one
of the upper tributaries of the Mississippi.
The bank, some fifteen or twenty feet in height, descended quite
abruptly to the stream's edge. Though both shores were lined with
dense forest, this particular portion possessed only several sparse
clumps of shrubbery, which seemed like a breathing-space in this sea of
verdure--a gate in the magnificent bulwark with which nature girts her

streams. This green area commanded a view of several miles, both up
and down stream.
Had a person been observing this open spot on the afternoon of the day
in question, he would have seen a large bowlder suddenly roll from the
top of the bank to bound along down the green declivity and fall into
the water with a loud splash. This in itself was nothing remarkable, as
such things are of frequent occurrence in the great order of things, and
the tooth of time easily could have gnawed away the few crumbs of
earth that held the stone in poise.
Scarcely five minutes had elapsed, however, when a second bowlder
rolled downward in a manner precisely similar to its predecessor, and
tumbled into the water with a rush that resounded across and across
from the forest on either bank.
Even this might have occurred in the usual course of things. Stranger
events take place every day. The loosening of the first stone could have
opened the way for the second, although a suspicious observer might
naturally have asked why its fall did not follow more immediately.
But, when precisely the same interval had elapsed, and a third stone
followed in the track of the others, there could be no question but what
human agency was concerned in the matter. It certainly appeared as if
there were some intent in all this. In this remote wilderness, no white
man or Indian would find the time or inclination for such child's play,
unless there was a definite object to be accomplished.
And yet, scrutinized from the opposite bank, the lynx-eye of a veteran
pioneer would have detected no other sign of the presence of a human
being than the occurrences that we have already narrated; but the most
inexperienced person would have decided at once upon the
hiding-place of him who had given the moving impulse to the bodies.
Just at the summit of the bank was a mass of shrubbery of sufficient
extent and density to conceal a dozen warriors. And within this, beyond
doubt, was one person, at least, concealed; and it was certain, too, that
from his
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