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CHAPTER XIII WE TURN BACK

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the sun was burning away the fog that had overlain the country since we left the base of the ice mountain, and the west breeze carried to our ears the odd muffled booming noise that we had heard once before that day. as the fog lifted, the noise increased. it was like the pounding of great waters over a cataract, but there was no brume in the air such as marked that of jagara, and we were wholly at a loss until at sunset we fought our way through the briary walls of the forest upon the surface of an open bluff.

the booming noise was the beating of surf upon a rocky shore. westward and north and south the waters rolled, blue-green off-shore, inland a smother of foam. the combers came lunging in, one after the other, in an endless succession of charges, smashing themselves into fine spray and spume against the cliffs. the bluff on which we stood was spattered by them; the breeze carried a fine mist to drench the near-by forest foliage.

"here is a sea as vast as the cadaraqui lake, brothers," commented tawannears, as our eyes drank in the picture.

i laughed, for a drop of the spray had reached my mouth.

"cadaraqui, and all this wonderful land we have traversed, could be dropped into the bosom of this sea, and still fail to span it," i answered. "'tis the south sea, the pacific ocean, which, the geographers tell us, stretches from this western verge of our continent to the shores of the farther indies."

"how can otetiani know that?" exclaimed tawannears.

"taste it. 'tis salt, the water of the open sea."

both he and peter stooped and scooped handfuls of it from pools in the rocks—and quickly spat it out again.

"ja," agreed corlaer. "sea water. we hafe gone to der endt of der landt."

tawannears nodded dispiritedly.

"we have traveled as far as men may go," he admitted. "and we have failed. hawenneyu has veiled his face from us, after all."

"we have not seen all the land," i reminded him.

"ja," spoke up the dutchman. "we go sout' along der shore, eh?"

but tawannears made no reply. he dragged behind us, dejected and dismayed, as we skirted the irregular shoreline, looking for a convenient camp site. when we found what we sought he aided in the routine duties of the evening, ate his share of the meager meal which was all we could afford, and then took his stand upon a lonely rock that jutted out into the angry waters. an hour later he strode back into the circle of firelight.

"tawannears forgot that he was a grown warrior," he announced with proud humility. "his heart turned to water. he was very sad. he was afraid. but now he has driven the fear out of his heart. whatever is worth while the great spirit makes difficult to find. we have come a long trail, my brothers, but it may be we have even farther yet to go. tawannears will not cry again if the thorns cut his feet. shall we continue?"

"until you are satisfied, brother," i said.

peter simply wagged his big head affirmatively.

"it is good," said the seneca. "in the morning we will start south. tawannears will take the first watch. a spirit bird is singing in his ear tales of the past."

that was all. when my eyes closed he was sitting outside the range of the firelight, his back against a tree-trunk, his musket across his knees, his eyes fixed on the shadows. his disappointment must have been almost unfathomable. to have come so far, beyond the wildest imaginings of his race, to have risked the legendary as well as the absolute, to have withstood so many risks—and then to find that it was practically all to do over a second time! 'twas no ordinary shock. and he, who had so lately achieved audience—as he supposed—with the very spirit of tamanoas, who had inhaled the breath of the life-giver, was all the more disheartened. yet he rallied to the shock; he refused to yield to the disappointment. from his reserves of courage he mustered the strength to embark afresh upon the quest he had been confident was approaching a conclusion.

two days' journey southward we were halted by the estuary of a mighty river, and we turned inland, following its northern bank in search of means to cross. we passed several deserted villages, and on the third day were attacked from ambush by a tribe of tall, lean savages, with heads that sloped back from the eyebrows to a peak. they fled from our musketry, and we pursued them into their village of long, well-built log houses, and helped ourselves to a dug-out canoe in repayment for the ammunition we had expended upon them. they stood at a distance the while, silent and plainly fearful lest we should burn the village, but 'twas never a point with us to do more harm or foray goods other than need required.

across the river and equipped with good store of smoked fish and dried meat from the savages' huts, we skirted for several weeks a wondrously healthy wooded country betwixt the sea and mountains scarcely inferior in height to those snow giants we had beheld surrounding the ice mountain. we saw or encountered indians many times, but they were poor creatures of less spirit than the fisher folk by the river, and seldom offered us any hostility. a shot was always sufficient to scatter them. indeed, 'twas observed by all of us that since we passed the sky mountains we had seldom met savages as fiercely valorous as the warrior tribes of the vast central plains.

for these first weeks we wandered aimlessly. we had gone as far westward as we could, and we had not yet determined on another definite course. but a series of damp winds and clinging sea-fogs such as this country seemed disposed to, set us to figuring upon plans for weathering the approaching winter. we were clad now in the rags of garments, insufficient to withstand the cold. tawannears and i were gaunt from hardship, hunger and abnormal physical effort, and if the huge cask of blubber that covered corlaer's bones was not diminished appreciably, fatigue had grooved deep lines and hollows in his flabby face.

gone from us was the élan that had enabled us to dash ourselves without thought upon the barrier of the sky mountains. we wanted rest, food in plenty, time to manufacture new clothing. for close on a year and a half we had wandered thousands of miles from one side of the continent to the other, conducting journeys such as no men had ever attempted before—as master cadwallader golden, the surveyor general of our province of new york, has assured me to be the fact, he having studied to much advantage the available data on the geography of america.

so there came a night when we huddled close to a scanty fire under a brush shelter and debated our future.

"when the snow comes we shall want more than this," i said, fingering the holes in my moccasins. "i would we had the buffalo robes we sacrificed on the ice mountain yonder."

"otetiani speaks wisely," agreed tawannears. "we do not know what the winter in this country will be, but it is not a warm land. there is always snow on the mountain-tops. in winter, then, the cold must be felt in the low lands."

corlaer, gnawing infinitesimal shreds of meat from a bone, shrilly growled approval.

"we must have shelter," i continued. "we must have food in plenty. we must take a sufficiency of meat and peltry."

"what of the fisher-tribes?" suggested tawannears. "it may be they would give us hospitality."

"ay, and stab us separately some night whilst we slept," i retorted. "i like not these people. they have shifty eyes. they will not stand up in a fight. moreover, we cannot speak to them, nor they to us."

corlaer cast aside his bone with a gesture of disgust.

"go to der mountains," he squeaked. "in der valleys is cofer—andt wood—andt game for der killing—andt no odder mans."

it was true what he said. we had proved it in our wanderings. the valleys at the foot of the high ranges were the favorite haunts of all the animals. they were well-wooded and watered. and the savages of these parts seemed to shun the mountains for the tidal rivers. in the right valley we might expect to find as perfect living conditions as nature afforded. we adopted peter's counsel, and in the morning struck off southeast into the foothills.

the first valley we came to we rejected for lack of wood. the second was forested, but showed no sign of attracting over-much game. the third was too inaccessible. but after a fortnight of zigzag wanderings we entered by accident a valley which promised all the attractions we desired. it reminded us of the vale in the sky mountains through which we had crossed to their western side. like that it offered a contrast of forest and savannah. a small river wound down its center. snow-capped peaks rose all around it. the tameness of its wild inhabitants proved they had never been hunted by man.

we made our camp in the neck of the miniature pass by which the valley communicated with the outside world, happy in the confidence that at last we were assured a resting-place where we might forget for a season the feverish impulses that had hurled us so far from what we each called home. and that night, as we shivered in the wind that blew off the glaciers we had consolation in planning the snug cabin we would contrive in some elbow of the hillside, with a fireplace of mud and bowlders fetched from the river's bed.

we cast lots the next morning, using grass-blades, long and short, to divide the first day's work. and it so fell out that tawannears must do the hunting, which was necessary to insure us ample food and to start the collection of hides we should need—and we were all three glad of this because he was our best bowman, and we could not afford to use our fast-dwindling stock of powder and lead to fill our bellies. peter and i were to explore the valley's length, especially with a view to determining a site for the cabin.

it was a glorious day, the sun shining warmly and the wind crisp and invigorating. footsore and tired as we were, we started upon our errands at a swinging lope, and i shouted a cheery good-by to tawannears as he disappeared into the standing timber below the little pass, and peter and i undertook to climb to a narrow shelf of level land that formed a platform midway of the valley's gently-sloping southern wall. from here we could secure a sweeping view of that side of our domain and likewise gain some idea of the opposite wall which we intended to examine on our way home. tawannears replied to me with the hunting-whoop, and peter joined my answering yelp. then we were alone, only the crackling branches underfoot and the crashing of deer, antelope and wild sheep in the thickets to interrupt our silent progress.

the valley was a broad ellipse in shape, and the encircling hills were terraced by such shelves as the one we trod. we did not keep to it of course, but climbed down or up as the case might be, to examine features of the landscape. but for the most part we held to the hillside, for in the valley-bottom the forest trees obscured the country twenty feet away—except in the occasional savannahs or parks that bordered the river's banks. i think we had traveled all of two french leagues when we came to a place where the shelf on the hillside became a rocky ledge, strewn with pebbles, and a raw out-crop of rock overshadowed it. peter, in the lead, hesitated, his rifle at the trail, and sniffed the air.

"make haste," i exclaimed impatiently. "it grows toward noon, and we have to compass the valley before dark."

"i smell something," he returned.

"smell something!" i laughed. "sure, man, i can smell a dozen forest odors."

"i smell beast," said peter gravely.

this made me laugh the more, and i thrust myself in front of the dutchman and took up the blind trail at a dogtrot.

"waidt!" he called after me, as i came to a shoulder of rock that projected across the ledge.

i waved my hand in answer, and trotted blithely on around the shoulder. a snarl that sounded like the ripping of a thousand sheets of sail-cloth greeted me. straight in front, not twenty feet away, stood the biggest bear i had ever seen. we had come from downwind, so it had not smelled us; but its little beady eyes blinked ferociously at me as it hovered over the half-devoured body of a mountain sheep.

in my first burst of astonishment i lost my head. forgetful of the ground, i jumped backward and lifted my musket, intending to shoot the beast before it could move. but my foot slipped on the pebbly cliff-side, my ankle twisted under me with a stab of pain, and my musket hurtled out of reach down-hill, leaving me crippled and fearful lest the slightest movement should send me after it.

the flash of the steel barrel was enough for the bear. it sensed that i had meant it harm; it saw me prostrate, my fingers tugging frantically at the tomahawk sheathed at my side. and with a snarl that became a bellow of rage it reared on hind-legs and waddled toward me, a fearsome figure, taller than a tall man, thick brown fur bristling, saliva dripping from gaping jaws, great fore-paws poised like a boxer's arms, long, steel-tipped claws quivering out of the immense pads.

i decided that my time had come—and then peter trotted around the rock-shoulder, a worried look on his fat face. for a bare instant the dutchman hung paralyzed, one foot off the ground. the next moment his heavy musket had leaped to his shoulder, and the flame darted from the muzzle. but the bear was no less quick. it lurched forward and to one side, ignoring me with the changeable ferocity of its kind, and all intent upon this latest intruder. by doing so it took peter's shot in the shoulder instead of in the brain, and this served only to infuriate it the more. the creature's snarls were demoniacal as it reared to its hind-feet again, and advanced at a waddling run, heedless of the blood that streamed from the bullet-hole in its furry hide.

"my gun, peter!" i cried. "down-hill! never mind me."

peter's answer was to draw knife and tomahawk, jump over my body that was sprawled out before him and meet the bear half-way with a whirling wheel of steel. that was a battle for you! peter, big as he was, looked small beside the bear. the great beast's mask overhung the dutchman's head, and for a moment i thought it would snap off peter's neck. the cavernous mouth was distended; the little eyes gleamed red; the jaws came together with a click. but peter was not there. with the amazing agility that was always so out-of-place in connection with his awkward figure he had stooped, evaded the beast's embracing paws and ripped it down the ribs with knife and tomahawk.

the bear howled in mingled pain and anger, slumped to its four feet and circled its enemy—and now peter was at a disadvantage, for he would not leave me uncovered, and this circumscribed the area he could maneuver over. the bear seemed to comprehend this. it made a quick dash at me, and when peter stepped lightly betwixt us reared up on hind-legs for the third time, and rushed at peter, forepaws cast wide to hug him in. and peter met the rush without budging.

i expected to see the dutchman toppled over, but he held his ground. the bear caught him, its furry paws, so absurdly like a man's arms, enfolded him, their claws ripping convulsively at his shirt and breeches. but peter was busy too. hugged close to the big beast's body, he was butchering for all he was worth with both his tools. his knife worked in and out—in and out. his hatchet in his left hand pecked remorselessly at groin and hams.

the bear's insane growls, low, tense, rasping drones of utter rage, became instinct with pain. the creature yelped. its grip slackened, and peter tore himself away. but i lay aghast at sight of the dutchman's reeking figure. he had dodged the snapping jaws successfully, but no celerity of movement had availed against those two fore-paws working with spasmodic energy. his back, flanks and thighs were one mess of blood. his tattered clothing was in ribbons. but he crouched unperturbed, his gaze fixed on the bear.

"give over, peter!" i cried again. "run whilst you can. i will roll down the hill."

"stay!" he croaked at me, without shifting his eyes from his antagonist. "i finish him dis time."

the bear felt the same way, and prowled forward on all-fours, its roars echoing between the hillsides. peter, anticipating its rush, sprang in so swiftly that his tomahawk clattered on the lowered skull and chopped out one of the little, red eyes. then the bear went mad. so far it had fought with the cautious circumspection of a great, stupid man-beast, aware that it was at a disadvantage as regards wits. now it simply threw itself upon peter. they met in a desperate clinch, as the bear heaved itself erect, and it hacked at him with all four sets of claws, rolling over and over on the ground, until peter slipped free and staggered off, wiping the blood from his eyes.

he had no time to rest, however. the beast was on him once more, bellowing wildly, its hide gashed and torn. they came chest to chest in full career, peter chopping and stabbing, the bear champing its teeth and slashing with its claws; and i found myself crawling toward them, dragging my injured ankle, fighting over a yard of pebbly slope to gain a foot of distance. but before i could reach them the end came.

the bear seemed to throw its weight forward with desperate energy and peter reeled back, exposing his throat so that the bear bent its head and snapped for the throat. but peter twisted violently and the savage teeth met on his collar-bone. in its preoccupation with this new hold the beast must have relaxed its grip upon him, for in that very moment he slipped his knife home through a gash in its ribs and reached its heart.

it tottered there, its eyes glazing slowly, whilst peter frantically whittled at its vitals and the blood pumped from the hole in its side and its claws dug at him with dying energy. then it slumped over on its back, dragging peter with it. when i reached the two bodies they lay in one heap, the bear's teeth still gripped in the flesh of the dutchman's shoulder, his knife embedded in the beast's flank. i pried loose the bear's teeth with my knife-blade before the final rigor set in, and pulled peter away as gently as i could. i was sure his life was oozing with every gush of the red tide. but he opened his eyes and grinned up at me.

"i make me a fine robe of dot pelt—ja," he squeaked faintly.

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