"That's our Braxton," said Henry."He is rising to his opportunities.He is likely to become fully the equal of Walter Butler."But they could do nothing at present to find Wyatt, and they went somewhat sadly back to "The Alcove." They had learned also from the runner that Wyatt had a lieutenant, a Tory named Coleman, and this fact increased their belief that Wyatt was undertaking to operate on a large scale.
"We may get a chance at him anyhow," said Henry."He and his band may go too far away from the main body of the Indians and Tories, and in that case we can strike a blow if we are watchful."Every one of the five, although none of them knew it, received an additional impulse from this news about Braxton Wyatt.He had grown up with them.Loyalty to the king had nothing to do with his becoming a renegade or a Tory; he could not plead lost lands or exile for taking part in such massacres as Wyoming or Cherry Valley, but, long since an ally of the Indians, he was now at the head of a Tory band that murdered and burned from sheer pleasure.
"Some day we'll get him, as shore as the sun rises an' sets,"said Shif'less Sol, repeating Henry's prediction.
But for the present they "holed up," and now their foresight was justified.To such as they, used to the hardships of forest life, "The Alcove" was a cheery nest.From its door they watched the wild fowl streaming south, pigeons, ducks, and others outlined against the dark, wintry skies.So numerous were these flocks that there was scarcely a time when they did not see one passing toward the warm South.
Shif'less Sol and Paul sat together watching a great flock of wild geese, arrow shaped, and flying at almost incredible speed.
A few faint honks came to them, and then the geese grew misty on the horizon.Shif'less Sol followed them with serious eyes.
"Do you ever think, Paul," he said, "that we human bein's ain't so mighty pow'ful ez we think we are.We kin walk on the groun', an' by hard learnin' an' hard work we kin paddle through the water a little.But jest look at them geese flyin' a mile high, right over everything, rivers, forests any mountains, makin' a hundred miles an hour, almost without flappin' a wing.Then they kin come down on the water an' float fur hours without bein'
tired, an' they kin waddle along on the groun', too.Did you ever hear of any men who had so many 'complishments? Why, Paul, s'pose you an' me could grow wings all at once, an' go through the air a mile a minute fur a month an' never git tired.""We'd certainly see some great sights," said Paul, "but do you know, Sol, what would be the first thing I'd do if I had the gift of tireless wings?""Fly off to them other continents I've heard you tell about.""No, I'd swoop along over the forests up here until I picked out all the camps of the Indians and Tories.I'd pick out the Butlers and Braxton Wyatt and Coleman, and see what mischief they were planning.Then I'd fly away to the East and look down at all the armies, ours in buff and blue, and the British redcoats.
I'd look into the face of our great commander-in-chief.Then I'd fly away back into the West and South, and I'd hover over Wareville.I'd see our own people, every last little one of them.They might take a shot at me, not knowing who I was, but I'd be so high up in the air no bullet could reach me.Then I'd come soaring back here to you fellows.""That would shorely be a grand trip, Paul," said Shif'less Sol, "an' I wouldn't mind takin' it in myself.But fur the present we'd better busy our minds with the warnin's the wild fowl are givin' us, though we're well fixed fur a house already.It's cu'rus what good homes a handy man kin find in the wilderness."The predictions of the wild fowl were true.A few days later heavy clouds rolled up in the southwest, and the five watched them, knowing what they would bring them.They spread to the zenith and then to the other horizon, clothing the whole circle of the earth.The great flakes began to drop down, slowly at first, then faster.Soon all the trees were covered with white, and everything else, too, except the dark surface of the lake, which received the flakes into its bosom as they fell.
It snowed all that day and most of the next, until it lay about two feet on the ground.After that it turned intensely cold, the surface of the snow froze, and ice, nearly a foot thick, covered the lake.It was not possible to travel under such circumstances without artificial help, and now Tom Ross, who had once hunted in the far North, came to their help.He showed them how to make snowshoes, and, although all learned to use them, Henry, with his great strength and peculiar skill, became by far the most expert.
As the snow with its frozen surface lay on the ground for weeks, Henry took many long journeys on the snowshoes.Sometimes be hunted, but oftener his role was that of scout.He cautioned his friends that he might be out-three or four days at a time, and that they need take no alarm about him unless his absence became extremely long.The winter deepened, the snow melted, and another and greater storm came, freezing the surface, again making the snowshoes necessary.Henry decided now to take a scout alone to the northward, and, as the others bad long since grown into the habit of accepting his decisions almost without question, be started at once.He was well equipped with his rifle, double barreled pistol, hatchet, and knife, and he carried in addition a heavy blanket and some jerked venison.He put on his snowshoes at the foot of the cliff, waved a farewell to the four heads thrust from "The Alcove" above, and struck out on the smooth, icy surface of the creek.From this he presently passed into the woods, and for a long time pursued a course almost due north.
It was no vague theory that had drawn Henry forth.In one of his journeyings be had met a hunter who told him of a band of Tories and Indians encamped toward the north, and he had an idea that it was the party led by Braxton Wyatt.Now he meant to see.
