Frank in the Woods

“There were two Indians and as many dogs,” answered Harry. “Here’s a track made by a fellow that must have had a foot as big as all out-doors; and here’s another, of very respectable size.”

The boys commenced measuring the tracks, and found, as Harry had said, that there were but two different sizes. As soon as this had been determined, Frank exclaimed:

“Well, we mustn’t waste any more time. Let’s start after the rascals; and if we catch them, we’ll make them give up those traps or fight.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders, and answered:

“If you are going in for a fight, just count me out, will you? One of those Indians must be a strapping big fellow, judging by the size of his feet; and the other, although he may be a smaller man, would probably prove a tough customer. If Dick was here, I wouldn’t mind it. Let us go after him.”

“O no,” answered the reckless Frank. “I guess we and our double-barrel shot-guns, with Brave’s assistance, can recover those traps. If we can’t catch the thieves, we’ll make the trail, at any rate.”

Harry made no reply, but ran along after Frank, who commenced following up the trail of the Indians, which, as no care had been taken to conceal it, was very plain. As on the former occasion, it appeared as if the tracks had been made by one person; but, on closer examination, Frank discovered that the larger savage had taken the lead, and that his companion had stepped exactly in his tracks. The trail ran directly away from Uncle Joe’s cabin, and then turned abruptly and ran parallel with a ridge for the same distance; and here the boys came to a place where there was a confused mingling of tracks, conspicuous among which were some made by boots. There were also the tracks of two more dogs, and several drops of blood on the snow.

“The thieves have received reinforcements here,” said Harry. “A couple of white hunters, or else two more Indians, with boots on.”

“Yes, it looks like it,” answered Frank. “And they must have killed some game, for here’s blood on the snow.”

“I guess we’ve gone about far enough,” said Harry. “Four men and four dogs are more than a match for us.”

“No matter; I’m going to see the end of it now. You won’t leave me to go on alone!”

“O no. If you are bound to go on, I shall stick to you.”

Frank immediately set off on the trail, which turned suddenly to the left, and led toward a ravine. After running a short distance, he said:

“These last fellows that joined them are not Indians, Harry, because they didn’t step in each other’s tracks.”

The trail led directly through the gully, and up the other side; and while the boys were climbing up the bank, they heard the angry barking of dogs, followed by the report of a gun, and a yell that made their blood run cold. Harry immediately drew back, but Frank kept on; and when he reached the top of the bank, he saw a sight that filled him with horror, and which disturbed his sleep for many a night afterward.

But let us now return to Archie and George, whom we left starting out with their hounds.

When they reached the bottom, through which the creek ran, they found Sport standing over a fox-trail; and, at his master’s command, he at once set off upon it, followed by Lightfoot, while the boys struck off through the woods toward a ridge which they knew the fox would be certain to follow. They reached it just as the hounds passed; and were about to start off again, when they were startled by the crack of two rifles in rapid succession, accompanied by a howl of anguish. The baying of the hound ceased, and, the next moment, Lightfoot came running back, and took refuge behind his master.

“What’s the matter, I wonder?” inquired Archie, in alarm.

“Somebody has shot Sport,” answered George, as the howls of pain continued to come from the part of the woods where the shots had been heard.

“Sport shot!” repeated Archie, indignantly. “I won’t stand that, you know. Come on; let’s see who it was.”

As the boys commenced running up the ridge, the howls ceased, and Archie began to be afraid that his hound had been killed; but, in a few moments, he saw Sport coming toward him. He bore an ugly-looking wound on his back, which had been made by a bullet; and although it had at first disabled him, he was fast recovering his strength and ferocity, and answered his master’s caresses by showing his teeth, and giving vent to angry growls.

“I’m going to find out who that was,” said Archie. “Hunt ’em up, Sport! hunt ’em up, sir!”

The hound was off on the instant, and led the way to the place where he had been shot, which was marked by a little pool of blood on the snow, and here he turned off to the left of the ridge and ran down into a gully. Instead of baying as when on the trail of a fox, he ran in silence, and the boys soon lost sight of him; but just as they reached the bottom of the gully, they heard his bark, followed by a yell, and a crashing in the bushes, as if a severe struggle was going on; and when they gained the top of the bank, they found Sport resolutely defending himself against two Indians and their dogs. The latter – large, shaggy animals, of the wolf species – had closed with the hound, which would undoubtedly have proved more than a match for both of them, had not the Indians (who could not use their rifles for fear of wounding their own dogs) attacked him with clubs. But Sport was valiantly holding his own against their combined assaults, now and then seizing one of the dogs in his powerful jaws, and giving him a tremendous shaking, and then turning fiercely upon one of the Indians, who found it necessary to retreat, in order to save himself.

The boys comprehended the state of affairs at a glance. Running fearlessly up to the place where the fight was going on, Archie placed the muzzle of his gun against the head of one of the dogs, and killed him on the spot, exclaiming:

“Turn about is fair play, you know. I’ll teach you to shoot my hound when he isn’t bothering you.”

The large Indian immediately ceased his attacks upon Sport, and, turning upon Archie with a yell, threw his brawny arms about him, and hurled him to the ground. But Archie still retained his presence of mind, and, while struggling with his assailant, shouted to his companion:

“Shoot the other dog! shoot the other dog!”

George had just time to act upon this suggestion, when the smaller savage closed with him. Of course the boys, although they fought desperately, were speedily overpowered by the athletic Indians, who at once commenced beating them most unmercifully with their clubs. Archie, especially, was being punished most severely, when the hound, finding himself at liberty, sprang upon the Indian, and pulled him to the ground. Archie was on his feet in an instant; and, cheering on the dog, was about to spring to George’s assistance, when he noticed that his late assailant was in a most dangerous situation, the long teeth of the hound being fastened in his throat; and although he struggled desperately, he could not release himself. Archie at once hurried to his relief, and endeavored to choke off the hound, while the smaller Indian continued to shower his blows upon George, who received them without giving vent to a single cry of pain.

Such was the scene presented to Frank’s gaze as he came up out of the gully. Of course he was entirely ignorant of the cause of the trouble, but, seeing George’s situation, he at once ran to his assistance. The Indian, seeing him approach, uttered a yell, and, springing to his feet, was about to “make himself scarce,” when the sight of Frank’s double-barrel, which the latter aimed straight at his head, brought him to a stand-still. By this time, Archie, with Harry’s aid, had succeeded in releasing the Indian, but it required their utmost strength to prevent the hound from renewing his attacks.

The savage, however, had not fared so badly as they had at first supposed; for, although during the last few moments of the struggle he had lain so still that Archie began to fear that he was dead, the moment he was released he sprang to his feet, and, uttering the usual “ugh,” was about to retreat, when he also was brought to a halt by Frank’s double-barrel.

The circumstances which had brought the boys together in so singular a manner were speedily explained, after which Frank commenced an examination of the “possible-sacks” that the Indians carried slung over their shoulders, which resulted in the recovery of the missing traps.

“Now, what shall we do with these rascals?” he inquired.

“They’re the same ones that camped in the cabin that night,” answered Archie; “and this is the second time they have been guilty of stealing traps, and I say let’s take ’em prisoners, and let Dick pass judgment upon them.”

This plan was hailed with delight by the others; and the savages, who, during the conversation, had stood with their arms folded, as if they were in no wise concerned in what was going on, were at once relieved of their knives and hatchets, and, in obedience to Archie’s order, fell in behind Frank, who led the way toward the cabin. George and Harry followed close after them, carrying the weapons that had been taken from the prisoners, and ready to resist the first attempt that should be made at escape, while Archie brought up the rear, struggling hard to restrain the hound, which, every moment, renewed his endeavors to reach the Indians. In this order they marched through the woods, and, just before dark, reached the cabin. Frank entered first, standing with his gun at a shoulder-arms until the prisoners had passed him and the rest of the boys had entered and closed the door.

“Eh! what?” ejaculated the trapper, who had watched these movements in surprise. “What did you youngsters fetch them ar tarnal varlets back here for?”

The affair was soon explained, and Uncle Joe and the trapper rolled up their eyes in astonishment. At length the latter said:

“They stole your traps, did they, an’ shot the hound, an’ you follered ’em up an’ ketched ’em, did you?”

“Yes,” answered Archie, “and they mauled George and me with clubs; and we have brought them here to know what to do with them.”

“Wal, I never did see sich keerless fellers as you youngsters be,” said Dick. “You get wusser every day. Why didn’t you come arter me?”

“We should have lost too much time. Besides, we wanted to catch them ourselves.”

“Wal, ’cordin’ to prairy law,” continued the trapper, “there oughter be short work made of ’em; but what’s law on the prairy won’t do in the settlements. Pitch ’em out-doors, and don’t never bring no more Injuns here.”

“Shall we give them their guns?” asked Frank.

“No; don’t give ’em nothin’. Open that door.”

Frank did as the trapper ordered, and the latter walked up to the large Indian, and, seizing him around the body, lifted him from his feet, and threw him headlong into a deep snow-drift outside of the cabin. A smothered “ugh” broke from his lips as he sank out of sight. After considerable struggling, he reappeared, completely covered with snow, looking very unlike the sedate Indian that had stood in the cabin but a moment before, and started, at the top of his speed, for the woods. As soon as he had disappeared in the darkness, the trapper seized the smaller Indian, and served him in the same manner; then, without waiting to see what became of him, closed the door, and returned to his seat in front of the fire.