The Lords of the Wild: A Story of the Old New York BorderAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
History
The Lords of the Wild: A Story of the Old New York Border
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
United States -- History -- French and Indian War, 1754-1763 -- Juvenile fiction
He arose to go, but a slight sound came from the lake, and he stayed.
It was merely the cry of the night bird, calling to its mate, one
would have said, but Robert's attention was attracted by an odd
inflection in it, a strain that seemed familiar. He listened with the
utmost attention, and when it came a second time, he was so sure that
his pulses beat very fast.
Willet and Tayoga, as he had hoped in the day, were out there on the
lake. It had been foolish of him to think they would come in the full
sunlight, exposed to every hostile eye. It was their natural course to
approach in the dark and send a signal that he would know. He imitated
the call, a soft, low note, but one that traveled far, and soon the
answer came. No more was needed. The circle was complete. Willet and
Tayoga were on the lake and they knew that he was at the foot of the
cliff, waiting.
He took a long breath of intense relief and delight. Tandakora would
resume the search for him in the morning, hunting along the crest,
and he might even find his way to the narrow ledge on which Robert now
stood, but the lad would be gone across the waters, where he left no
trail.
He saw a stout young bush growing on the edge of the lake, and,
leaning far out while he held on to it with one hand, he watched. He
did not repeat the call. One less cautious would have done so, but he
knew that his friends had located him already and he meant to run
no risk of telling the warriors also where he stood. Meanwhile, he
listened attentively for the sound of the paddles, but many long
minutes passed before he heard the faint dip, dip that betokened the
approach of Willet and Tayoga. He never doubted for an instant that
it was their canoe and again his heart felt that triumphant feeling.
Surely no man ever had more loyal or braver comrades! If he had
malignant enemies he also had staunch friends who more than offset
them.
He saw presently a faint shadow, a deeper dark in the darkness, and
he uttered very low the soft note of the bird. In an instant came the
answer, and then the shadow, turning, glided toward him. A canoe took
form and shape and he saw in it two figures, which were unmistakably
those of Willet and Tayoga, swinging their paddles with powerful
hands. Again he felt a thrill of joy because these two trusty comrades
had come. But it was absurd ever to doubt for an instant that they
would come!
He leaned out from the tree to the last inch, and called in a
penetrating whisper:
"Dave! Tayoga! This way!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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