Chapter II. The Mysterious Hand

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　Henry slept until a rosy light, filtering through the leaves,fell upon his face. Then he sprang up, folded the blanket oncemore upon his back, and looked about him. Nothing had come inthe night to disturb him, no enemy was near, and the morning sunwas bright and beautiful. The venison was exhausted, but hebathed his face in the brook and resumed his journey, travelingwith a long, swift stride that carried him at great speed.

　　The boy was making for a definite point, one that he knew well,although nearly all the rest of this wilderness was strange tohim. The country here was rougher than it usually is in thegreat valley to the west, and as he advanced it became yet morebroken, range after range of steep, stony hills, with fertile butnarrow little valleys between. He went on without hesitation forat least two hours, and then stopping under a great oak heuttered a long, whining cry, much like the howl of a wolf.

　　It was not a loud note, but it was singularly penetrating,carrying far through the forest. A sound like an echo came back,but Henry knew that instead of an echo it was a reply to his ownsignal. Then he advanced boldly and swiftly and came to the edgeof a snug little valley set deep among rocks and trees like abowl. He stopped behind the great trunk of a beech, and lookedinto the valley with a smile of approval.

　　Four human figures were seated around a fire of smoldering coalsthat gave forth no smoke. They appeared to be absorbed in somevery pleasant task, and a faint odor that came to Henry'snostrils filled him with agreeable anticipations. He steppedforward boldly and called:

　　"Jim, save that piece for me!"

　　Long Jim Hart halted in mid-air the large slice of venison thathe had toasted on a stick. Paul Cotter sprang joyfully to hisfeet, Silent Tom Ross merely looked up, but Shif'less Sol said:

　　"Thought Henry would be here in time for breakfast."

　　Henry walked down in the valley, and the shiftless one regardedhim keenly.

　　"I should judge, Henry Ware, that you've been hevin' a footrace," he drawled.

　　"And why do you think that?" asked Henry.

　　"I kin see where the briars hev been rakin' across your leggins.Reckon that wouldn't happen, 'less you was in a pow'ful hurry."

　　"You're right," said Henry. "Now, Jim, you've been holding thatvenison in the air long enough. Give it to me, and after I'veeaten it I'll tell you all that I've been doing, and all that'sbeen done to me."

　　Long Jim handed him the slice. Henry took a comfortable seat inthe circle before the coals, and ate with all the appetite of apowerful human creature whose food had been more than scanty forat least two days.

　　"Take another piece," said Long Jim, observing him with approval."Take two pieces, take three, take the whole deer. I always liketo see a hungry man eat. It gives him sech satisfaction that Igit a kind uv taste uv it myself."

　　Henry did not offer a word 'of explanation until his breakfastwas over. Then lie leaned back, sighing twice with deep content,and said:

　　"Boys, I've got a lot to tell."

　　Shif'less Sol moved into an easier position on the leaves.

　　"I guess it has somethin' to do with them scratches on yourleggins."

　　"It has," continued Henry with emphasis," and I want to say toyou boys that I've seen Timmendiquas, the great White Lightningof the Wyandots."

　　"Timmendiquas!" exclaimed the others together.

　　"No less a man than he," resumed Henry. " I've looked upon hisvery face, I've seen him in camp with warriors, and I've had thehonor of being pursued by him and his men more hours than I cantell. That's why you see those briar scratches on my leggins,Sol."

　　"Then we cannot doubt that he is here to stir the Six Nations tocontinued war," said Paul Cotter, "and he will succeed. He is amighty chief, and his fire and eloquence will make them take upthe hatchet. I'm glad that we've come. We delayed a league oncebetween the Shawnees and the Miamis; I don't think we can stopthis one, but we may get some people out of the way before theblow falls."

　　"Who are these Six Nations, whose name sounds so pow'ful big uphere?" asked Long Jim.

　　"Their name is as big as it sounds," replied Henry. They are theOnondagas, the Mohawks, Oneidas, Senecas, Cayugas, andTuscaroras. They used to be the Five Nations, but the Tuscarorascame up from the south and fought against them so bravely thatthey were adopted into the league, as a new and friendly tribe.The Onondagas, so I've heard, formed the league a long, long timeago, and their head chief is the grand sachem or high priest ofthem all, but the head chief of the Mohawks is the leading warchief."

　　"I've heard," said Paul, "that the Wyandots are kinsmen of allthese tribes, and on that account they will listen with all themore friendliness to Timmendiquas."

　　"Seems to me," said Tom Ross, "that we've got a mosttre-men-je-ous big job ahead."

　　"Then," said Henry, "we must make a most tremendous big effort."

　　"That's so," agreed all.

　　After that they spoke little. The last coals were covered up,and the remainder of the food was put in their pouches. Thenthey sat on the leaves, and every one meditated until such timeas he might have something worth saying. Henry's thoughtstraveled on a wide course, but they always came back to onepoint. They had heard much at Pittsburgh of a famous Mohawkchief called Thayendanegea, but most often known to the Americansas Brant. He was young, able, and filled with intense animosityagainst the white people, who encroached, every year, more andmore upon the Indian hunting grounds. His was a soul full kin tothat of Timmendiquas, ;and if the two met it meant a greatcouncil and a greater endeavor for the undoing of the white man.What more likely than that they intended to meet?

　　"All of you have heard of Thayendanegea, the Mohawk?" said Henry.

　　They nodded.

　　"It's my opinion that Timmendiquas is on the way to meet him. Iremember hearing a hunter say at Pittsburgh that about a hundredmiles to the east of this point was a Long House or Council Houseof the Six Nations. Timmendiquas is sure to go there, and wemust go, too. We must find out where they intend to strike.What do you say?"

　　"We go there!" exclaimed four voices together.

　　Seldom has a council of war been followed by action so promptly.

　　As Henry spoke the last word he rose, and tile others rose withhim. Saying no more, he led toward the east, and the othersfollowed him, also saying no more. Separately every one of themwas strong, brave, and resourceful, but when the five weretogether they felt that they had the skill and strength oftwenty. The long rest at Pittsburgh had restored them after thedangers and hardship of their great voyage from New Orleans.

　　They carried in horn and pouch ample supplies of powder andbullet, and they did not fear any task.

　　Their journey continued through hilly country, clothed in heavyforest, but often without undergrowth. They avoided the openspaces, preferring to be seen of men, who were sure to be redmen, as little as possible. Their caution was well taken. Theysaw Indian signs, once a feather that had fallen from a scalplock, once footprints, and once the bone of a deer recentlythrown away by him who had eaten the meat from it. The countryseemed to be as wild as that of Kentucky. Small settlements, sothey had heard, were scattered at great distances through theforest, but they saw none. There was no cabin smoke, no trail ofthe plow, just the woods and the hills and the clear streams.Buffalo had never reached this region, but deer were abundant,and they risked a shot to replenish their supplies.

　　They camped the second night of their march on a little peninsulaat the confluence of two creeks, with the deep woods everywhere.Henry judged that they were well within the western range of theSix Nations, and they cooked their deer meat over a smotheredfire, nothing more than a few coals among the leaves. Whensupper was over they arranged soft places for themselves andtheir blankets, all except Long Jim, whose turn it was to scoutamong the woods for a possible foe.

　　"Don't be gone long, Jim," said Henry as he composed himself in acomfortable position. "A circle of a half mile about us willdo."

　　"I'll not be gone more'n an hour," said Long Jim, picking up hisrifle confidently, and flitting away among the woods.

　　" Not likely he'll see anything," said Shif'less Sol, but I'dshorely like to know what White Lightning is about. He must beterrible stirred up by them beatin's he got down on the Ohio, an'they say that Mohawk, Thayendanegea is a whoppin' big chief, too.They'll shorely make a heap of trouble."

　　"But both of them are far from here just now," said Henry, "andwe won't bother about either."

　　He was lying on some leaves at the foot of a tree with his armunder his head and his blanket over his body. He had aremarkable capacity for dismissing trouble or apprehension, andjust then he was enjoying great physical and mental peace. Helooked through half closed eyes at his comrades, who also wereenjoying repose, and his fancy could reproduce Long Jim in theforest, slipping from tree to tree and bush to bush, and findingno menace.

　　"Feels good, doesn't it, Henry?" said the shiftless one. " I likea clean, bold country like this. No more plowin' around inswamps for me."

　　Yes," said Henry sleepily, " it's a good country."

　　The hour slipped smoothly by, and Paul said:

　　" Time for Long Jim to be back."

　　"Jim don't do things by halves," said the shiftless one. "Guesshe's beatin' up every squar' inch o' the bushes. He'll be heresoon."

　　A quarter of an hour passed, and Long Jim did not return; a halfhour, and no sign of him. Henry cast off the blanket and stoodup. The night was not very dark and he could see some distance,but he did not see their comrade.

　　"I wonder why he's so slow," he said with a faint trace ofanxiety.

　　"He'll be 'long directly," said Tom Ross with confidence.

　　Another quarter of an hour, and no Long Jim. Henry sent forththe low penetrating cry of the wolf that they used so often as asignal.

　　"He cannot fail to hear that," he said, "and he'll answer."

　　No answer came. The four looked at one another in alarm. LongJim had been gone nearly two hours, and he was long overdue. Hisfailure to reply to the signal indicated either that somethingominous had happened or that- he had gone much farther than theymeant for him to go.

　　The others had risen to their feet, also, and they stood a littlewhile in silence.

　　"What do you think it means?" asked Paul.

　　"It must be all right," said Shif'less Sol. "Mebbe Jim has lostthe camp."

　　Henry shook his head.

　　"It isn't that," he said. "Jim is too good a woodsman for such amistake. I don't want to look on the black side, boys, but Ithink something has happened to Jim."

　　"Suppose you an' me go an' look for him," said Shif'less Sol,"while Paul and Tom stay here an' keep house."

　　"We'd better do it," said Henry. "Come, Sol."

　　The two, rifles in the hollows of their arms, disappeared in thedarkness, while Tom and Paul withdrew into the deepest shadow ofthe trees and waited.

　　Henry and the shiftless one pursued an anxious quest, going aboutthe camp in a great circle and then in another yet greater. Theydid not find Jim, and the dusk was so great that they saw noevidences of his trail. Long Jim had disappeared as completelyas if he had left the earth for another planet. When they feltthat they must abandon the search for the time, Henry andShif'less Sol looked at each other in a dismay that the duskcould not hide.

　　"Mebbe be saw some kind uv a sign, an' has followed it," said theshiftless one hopefully. "If anything looked mysterious an'troublesome, Jim would want to hunt it down."

　　"I hope so," said Henry, "but we've got to go back to the campnow and report failure. Perhaps he'll show up to-morrow, but Idon't like it, Sol, I don't like it!"

　　"No more do I," said Shif'less Sol. "'Tain't like Jim not tocome back, ef he could. Mebbe he'll drop in afore day, anyhow."

　　They returned to the camp, and two inquiring figures rose up outof the darkness.

　　"You ain't seen him?" said Tom, noting that but two figures hadreturned.

　　"Not a trace," replied Henry. "It's a singular thing."

　　The four talked together a little while, and they were far fromcheerful. Then three sought sleep, while Henry stayed on watch,sitting with his back against a tree and his rifle on his knees.All the peace and content that be had felt earlier in the eveningwere gone. He was oppressed by a sense of danger, mysterious andpowerful. It did not seem possible that Long Jim could have goneaway in such a noiseless manner, leaving no trace behind. But itwas true.

　　He watched with both ear and eye as much for Long Jim as for anenemy. He was still hopeful that he would see the long, thinfigure coming among the bushes, and then hear the old pleasantdrawl. But he did not see the figure, nor did he hear the drawl.

　　Time passed with the usual slow step when one watches. Paul,Sol, and Tom were asleep, but Henry was never wider awake in hislife. He tried to put away the feeling of mystery and danger.He assured himself that Long Jim would soon come, delayed by sometrail that he had sought to solve. Nothing could have happenedto a man so brave and skillful. His nerves must be growing weakwhen he allowed himself to be troubled so much by a delayedreturn.

　　But the new hours came, one by one, and Long Jim came with noneof them. The night remained fairly light, with a good moon, butthe light that it threw over the forest was gray and uncanny.Henry's feeling of mystery and danger deepened. Once he thoughthe heard a rustling in the thicket and, finger on the trigger ofhis rifle, he stole among the bushes to discover what caused it.He found nothing and, returning to his lonely watch, saw thatPaul, Sol, and Tom were still sleeping soundly. But Henry wasannoyed greatly by the noise, and yet more by his failure totrace its origin. After an hour's watching he looked a secondtime. The result was once more in vain, and he resumed his seatupon the leaves, with his back reclining against an oak. Here,despite the fact that the night was growing darker, nothingwithin range of a rifle shot could escape his eyes.

　　Nothing stirred. The noise did not come a second time from thethicket. The very silence was oppressive. There was no wind,not even a stray puff, and the bushes never rustled. Henrylonged for a noise of some kind to break that terrible,oppressive silence. What he really wished to hear was the softcrunch of Long Jim's moccasins on the grass and leaves.

　　The night passed, the day came, and Henry awakened his comrades.Long Jim was still missing and their alarm was justified.Whatever trail lie might have struck, he would have returned inthe night unless something had happened to him. Henry had vaguetheories, but nothing definite, and he kept them to himself. Yetthey must make a change in their plans. To go on and leave LongJim to whatever fate might be his was unthinkable. No task couldinterfere with the duty of the five to one another.

　　"We are in one of the most dangerous of all the Indiancountries," said Henry. "We are on the fringe of the region overwhich the Six Nations roam, and we know that Timmendiquas and aband of the Wyandots are here also. Perhaps Miamis and Shawneeshave come, too."

　　"We've got to find Long Jim," said Silent Tom briefly.

　　They went about their task in five minutes. Breakfast consistedof cold venison and a drink from a brook. Then they began tosearch the forest. They felt sure that such woodsmen as they,with the daylight to help them, would find some trace of LongJim, but they saw none at all, although they constantly widenedtheir circle, and again tried all their signals. Half theforenoon passed in the vain search, and then they held a council.

　　I think we'd better scatter," said Shif'less Sol, "an' meet hereagain when the sun marks noon."

　　It was agreed, and they took careful note of the place, a littlehill crowned with a thick cluster of black oaks, a landmark easyto remember. Henry turned toward the south, and the forest wasso dense that in two minutes all his comrades were lost to sight.He went several miles, and his search was most rigid. He wasamazed to find that the sense of mystery and danger that heattributed to the darkness of the night did not disappear whollyin the bright daylight. His spirit, usually so optimistic, wasoppressed by it, and he had no belief that they would find LongJim.

　　At the set time he returned to the little hill crowned with theblack oaks, and as he approached it from one side he sawShif'less Sol coming from another. The shiftless one walkeddespondently. His gait was loose and shambling-a rare thing withhim, and Henry knew that he, too, had failed. He realized nowthat he had not expected anything else. Shif'less Sol shookhis head, sat down on a root and said nothing. Henry sat down,also, and tile two exchanged a look of discouragement.

　　"The others will be here directly," said Henry, "and perhaps LongJim will be with one of them."

　　But in his heart he knew that it would not be so, and theshiftless one knew that he had no confidence in his own words.

　　" If not," said Henry, resolved to see the better side, we'llstay anyhow until we find him. We can't spare good old LongJim."

　　Shif'less Sol did not reply, nor did Henry speak again, until liesaw the bushes moving slightly three or four hundred yards away.

　　"There comes Tom," he said, after a single comprehensive glance,"and he's alone."

　　Tom Ross was also a dejected figure. He looked at the two on thehill, and, seeing that the man for whom they were searching wasnot with them, became more dejected than before.

　　"Paul's our last chance," he said, as he joined them. He'sgen'rally a lucky boy, an' mebbe it will be so with him to-day."

　　I hope so," said Henry fervently. " He ought to be along in afew minutes."

　　They waited patiently, although they really had no belief thatPaul would bring in the missing man, but Paul was late. The noonhour was well past. Henry took a glance at the sun. Noon wasgone at least a half hour, and he stirred uneasily.

　　"Paul couldn't get lost in broad daylight," he said.

　　"No," said Shif'less Sol, "he couldn't get lost!"

　　Henry noticed his emphasis on the word "lost," and a sudden fearsprang up in his heart. Some power had taken away Long Jim;could the same power have seized Paul? It was a premonition, andhe paled under his brown, turning away lest the others see hisface. All three now examined the whole circle of the horizon fora sight of moving bushes that would tell of the boy's coming.

　　The forest told nothing. The sun blazed brightly overeverything, and Paul, like Long Jim, did not come. He was anhour past due, and the three, oppressed already by Long jim'sdisappearance, were convinced that he would not return. But theygave him a half hour longer. Then Henry said:

　　"We must hunt for him, but we must not separate. Whateverhappens we three must stay together."

　　I'm not hankerin' to roam 'roun jest now all by myself," said theshiftless one, with an uneasy laugh.

　　The three hunted all that afternoon for Paul. Once they sawtrace of footsteps, apparently his, in some soft earth, but theywere quickly, lost on hard ground, and after that there wasnothing. They stopped shortly before sunset at the edge of anarrow but deep creek.

　　"What do you think of it, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol.

　　"I don't know what to think," replied the youth, "but it seems tome that whatever took away Jim has taken away Paul, also."

　　"Looks like it," said Sol, "an' I guess it follers that we're inthe same kind o' danger."

　　"We three of us could put up a good fight," said Henry, " and Ipropose that we don't go back to that camp, but spend the nighthere."

　　"Yes, an' watch good," said Tom Ross.

　　Their new camp was made quickly in silence, merely the grassunder the low boughs of a tree. Their supper was a littlevenison, and then they watched the coming of the. darkness. Itwas a heavy hour for the three. Long Jim was gone, and thenPaul-Paul, the youngest, and, in a way, the pet of the littleband.

　　"Ef we could only know how it happened," whispered Shif'less Sol,"then we might rise up an' fight the danger an' git Paul an' Jimback. But you can't shoot at somethin' you don't see or hear.In all them fights o' ours, on the Ohio an' Mississippi we knowedwhat wuz ag'inst us, but here we don't know nothin'."

　　" It is true, Sol," sighed Henry. "We were making such bigplans, too, and before we can even start our force is cut nearlyin half. To-morrow we'll begin the hunt again. We'll neverdesert Paul and Jim, so long as we don't know they're dead."

　　"It's my watch," said Tom. "You two sleep. We've got to keepour strength."

　　Henry and the shiftless one acquiesced, and seeking the softestspots under the tree sat down. Tom Ross took his place about tenfeet in front of them, sitting on the ground, with his handsclasped around his knees, and his rifle resting on his arm.Henry watched him idly for a little while, thinking all the timeof his lost comrades. The night promised to be dark, a goodthing for them, as the need of hiding was too evident.

　　Shif'less Sol soon fell asleep, as Henry, only three feet away,knew by his soft and regular breathing, but the boy himself wasstill wide-eyed.

　　The darkness seemed to sink down like a great blanket droppingslowly, and the area of Henry's vision narrowed to a smallcircle. Within this area the distinctive object was the figureof Tom Ross, sitting with his rifle across his knees. Tom had aninfinite capacity for immobility. Henry had never seen anotherman, not even an Indian, who could remain so long in one positioncontented and happy. He believed that the silent one could sitas he was all night.

　　His surmise about Tom began to have a kind of fascination forhim. Would he remain absolutely still? He would certainly shiftan arm or a leg. Henry's interest in the question kept himawake. He turned silently on the other side, but, no matter howintently he studied the sitting figure of his comrade, he couldnot see it stir. He did not know how long he had been awake,trying thus to decide a question that should be of no importanceat such a time. Although unable to sleep, be fell into a dreamycondition, and continued vaguely to watch the rigid and silentsentinel.

　　He suddenly saw Tom stir, and he came from his state of languor.The exciting question was solved at last. The man would not sitall night absolutely immovable. There could be no doubt of thefact that he had raised an arm, and that his figure hadstraightened. Then he stood up, full height, remained motionlessfor perhaps ten seconds, and then suddenly glided away among thebushes.

　　Henry knew what this meant. Tom had heard something moving inthe thickets, and, like a good sentinel, be had gone toinvestigate. A rabbit, doubtless, or perhaps a sneaking raccoon.Henry rose to a sitting position, and drew his own rifle acrosshis knees. He would watch while Tom was gone, and then lie wouldsink quietly back, not letting his comrade know that lie hadtaken his place.

　　The faintest of winds began to stir among the thickets. Lightclouds drifted before the moon. Henry, sitting with his rifleacross his knees, and Shif'less Sol, asleep in the shadows, wereinvisible, but Henry saw beyond the circle of darkness thatenveloped them into the grayish light that fell over the bushes.He marked the particular point at which he expected Tom Ross toappear, a slight opening that held out invitation for the passageof a man.

　　He waited a long time, ten minutes, twenty, a half hour, and thesentinel did not return. Henry came abruptly out of his dreamystate. He felt with all the terrible thrill of certainty thatwhat happened to Long Jim and Paul had happened also to SilentTom Ross. He stood erect, a tense, tall figure, alarmed, but notafraid. His eyes searched the thickets, but saw nothing. Theslight movement of the bushes was made by the wind, and no othersound reached his ears.

　　But he might be mistaken after all! The most convincingpremonitions were sometimes wrong! He would give Tom ten minutesmore, and he sank down in a crouching position, where he wouldoffer the least target for the eye.

　　The appointed time passed, and neither sight nor sound revealedany sign of Tom Ross. Then Henry awakened Shif'less Sol, andwhispered to him all that he had seen.

　　"Whatever took Jim and Paul has took him," whispered theshiftless one at once.

　　Henry nodded.

　　"An' we're bound to look for him right now," continued Shif'lessSol.

　　" Yes," said Henry, " but we must stay together. If we followthe others, Sol, we must follow 'em together."

　　It would be safer," said Sol. " I've an idee that we won't findTom, an' I want to tell you, Henry, this thing is gittin' on mynerves."

　　It was certainly on Henry's, also, but without reply he led theway into the bushes, and they sought long and well for SilentTom, keeping at the same time a thorough watch for any dangerthat might molest themselves. But no danger showed, nor did theyfind Tom or his trail. He, too, had vanished into nothingness,and Henry and Sol, despite their mental strength, felt coldshivers. They came back at last, far toward morning, to the bankof the creek. It was here as elsewhere a narrow but deep streamflowing between banks so densely wooded that they were almostlike walls.

　　"It will be daylight soon," said Shif'less Sol, "an' I think we'dbetter lay low in thicket an' watch. It looks ez ef we couldn'tfind anything, so we'd better wait an' see what will find us."

　　"It looks like the best plan to me," said Henry, " but I think wemight first hunt a while on the other side of the creek. Wehaven't looked any over there."

　　"That's so," replied Shif'less Sol, "but the water is at leastseven feet deep here, an' we don't want to make any splashswimmin'. Suppose you go up stream, an' I go down, an' the onethat finds a ford first kin give a signal. One uv us ought tostrike shallow water in three or four hundred yards."

　　Henry followed the current toward the south, while Sol moved upthe stream. The boy went cautiously through the dense foliage,and the creek soon grew wider and shallower. At a distance ofabout three hundred yards lie came to a point where it could bewaded easily. Then he uttered the low cry that was their signal,and went back to meet Shif'less Sol. He reached the exact pointat which they had parted, and waited. The shiftless one did notcome. The last of his comrades was gone, and he was alone in theforest.