Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the Frontier — John Shaqi
Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the FrontierEllis, Edward Sylvester
General
Blazing Arrow: A Tale of the Frontier
Ellis, Edward Sylvester
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; West (U.S.) -- Juvenile fiction
It will be understood, therefore, that if Blazing Arrow should halt at
this point the instant he reached it, and the youth should keep to the
trail, the latter would come directly under the muzzle of his own rifle,
in the hands of his implacable enemy.
But Wharton Edwards was not the one to throw away an advantage gained by
a display of speed such as it is safe to say no other living person
could have made. It would have been idiotic to do so when no necessity
existed.
Several ways of escape presented themselves. He could leave the trail at
the lower point of the loop, not returning to it until well beyond sight
of his enemy, or possibly he could leap across the gorge, as he had done
in the case of the torrent, and thus not sacrifice any ground.
It was this step which he revolved in his mind while dashing across the
last fourth of the narrow plain, but a single fact restrained him; he
doubted his ability to make a successful leap. Although he had been over
the path several times, and might be considered familiar with it, he had
never studied it closely enough to settle the question without another
inspection, and there was not a minute to spare for making that.
If he could make the leap it would be a great gain; if he should fail,
the disaster would be irreparable, for among the wood, brush and
undergrowth he could neither conceal himself nor travel as fast as the
Shawanoe, who would quickly have him at his mercy. The risk was too
great to incur, and he decided not to take it. He did a thing, on the
contrary, which was like an inspiration. Making the short turn, he ran a
few rods, when he glanced toward the plain. Blazing Arrow was invisible,
and would remain so for several minutes, despite the speed with which he
was approaching.
The youth made a powerful leap aside from the path, and dodged behind
the trunk of an oak large enough to shelter his body. Then he stood
panting, alert and watchful, awaiting the coming of his enemy. He saw
him a minute later, through the trees, running with undiminished speed,
and like an engine that was absolutely tireless. The Shawanoe was more
familiar with the course of the trail than the youth, and therefore knew
of its looping, which had puzzled the latter for a few brief moments.
The course adopted by the Shawanoe was peculiar, and for a time assumed
an almost ludicrous phase.
The quick glance which he cast down the path failed to show him the
fugitive, who he must have supposed was still running over it and would
speedily reappear as he rushed up the incline. By leaping the ravine he
would head him off and have him at his mercy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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