The Lost Trail by Edward S. Ellis.pdf

(769 KB) Pobierz
The Lost Trail, by Edward S. Ellis
1
The Lost Trail, by Edward S. Ellis
The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Lost Trail, by Edward S. Ellis
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may
copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or
online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: The Lost Trail
814506554.014.png 814506554.015.png 814506554.016.png 814506554.017.png 814506554.001.png 814506554.002.png 814506554.003.png 814506554.004.png 814506554.005.png 814506554.006.png 814506554.007.png 814506554.008.png 814506554.009.png
 
The Lost Trail, by Edward S. Ellis
2
Author: Edward S. Ellis
Release Date: February 18, 2004 [eBook #11151]
Language: English
Character set encoding: US-ASCII
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST TRAIL***
E-text prepared by Wilelmina Malliere and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See
11151-h.htm or 11151-h.zip: (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/1/5/11151/11151-h/11151-h.htm) or
(http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/1/1/5/11151/11151-h.zip)
Project Gutenberg also has another text file version of this book from a different source. See etext04/lstrl10.txt
or etext04/lstrl10.zip: (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04/lstrl10.txt) or
(http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04/lstrl10.zip)
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.
814506554.010.png 814506554.011.png 814506554.012.png
 
CHAPTER
3
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.
814506554.013.png
 
CHAPTER I.
4
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 hiding-place, he was peering out upon the river. Each bowlder had emerged from this shrubbery, and had
not passed through it in its downward course; so that their starting-point may now be considered a settled
question.
Supposing one to have gazed from this stand-point, what would have been his field of vision? A long stretch
of river--a vast, almost interminable extent of forest--a faint, far-off glimpse of a mountain peak projected like
a thin cloud against the blue sky, and a solitary eagle that, miles above, was bathing his plumage in the clear
atmosphere. Naught else?
CHAPTER I.
5
Close under the opposite shore, considerably lower down than the point to which we first directed our
attention, may be descried a dark object. It is a small Indian canoe, in which are seated two white men and a
female, all of whom are attired in the garb of civilization. The young man near the stern is of slight mold,
clear blue eye, and a prepossessing countenance. He holds a broad ashen paddle in his hand with which to
assist his companion, who maintains his proximity to the shore for the purpose of overcoming more deftly the
opposition of the current. The second personage is a short but square-shouldered Irishman, with massive
breast, arms like the piston-rods of an engine, and a broad, good-natured face. He is one of those beings who
may be aptly termed "machines," a patient, plodding, ox-like creature who takes to the most irksome labor as
a flail takes to the sheafs on the threshing-floor. Work was his element, and nothing, it would seem, could tire
or overcome those indurated muscles and vice-like nerves. The only appellation with which he was ever
known to be honored was that of "Teddy."
Near the center of the canoe, which was of goodly size and straight, upon a bed of blankets, sat the wife of the
young man in the stern. A glance would have dissipated the slightest suspicion of her being anything other
than a willing voyager upon the river. There was the kindling eye and glowing cheek, the eager look that
flitted hither and yon, and the buoyant feeling manifest in every movement, all of which expressed more of
enthusiasm than of willingness merely. Her constant questions to her husband or Teddy, kept up a continual
run of conversation, which was now, for the first time, momentarily interrupted by the occurrence to which we
have alluded.
At the moment we introduce them the young man was holding his paddle stationary and gazing off toward his
right, where the splash in the water denoted the fall of the third stone. His face wore an expression of puzzled
surprise, mingled with which was a look of displeasure, as if he were "put out" at this manifestation. His eyes
were fixed with a keen, searching gaze upon the river-bank, expecting the appearance of something more.
Teddy also was resting upon his paddle, and scrutinizing the point in question; but he seemed little affected by
what had taken place. His face was as expressionless as one of the bowlders, save the ever-present look of
imperturbable good-humor.
The young woman seemed more absorbed than either of her companions, in attempting to divine this mystery
that had so suddenly come upon them. More than once she raised her hand, as an admonition for Teddy to
preserve silence. Finally, however, his impatience got the better of his obedience, and he broke the oppressive
stillness.
"And what does ye make of it, Miss Cora, or Master Harvey?" he asked, after a few moments, dipping his
paddle at the same time in the water. "Arrah, now, has either of ye saan anything more than the same bowlders
there?"
"No," answered the man, "but we may; keep a bright look-out, Teddy, and let me know what you see."
The Irishman inclined his head to one side, and closed one eye as if sighting an invisible gun. Suddenly he
exclaimed, with a start:
"I see something now, sure as a Bally-ma-gorrah wake."
"What is it?"
"The sun going down in the west, and tilling us we've no time to shpare in fooling along here."
"Teddy, don't you remember day before yesterday when we came out of the Mississippi into this stream, we
observed something very similar to this?"

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika:

Zgłoś jeśli naruszono regulamin