The Keepers of the Trail

had nothing to regret. The pursuit by the wolves had become intolerable. In time it wa

you say that war who

e to find our trail. An' ef you an' me, Henry, can't leave 'e

ar cry a second time, alth

l!" said the

nry. "We've come to stony ground now, and the best tra

t way, but that band an' mebbe more are in atween us an' our fine house in the cliff,

to go, but we can afford to wait as well as the Indian army can, and better.

grapevines they would often swing from vine to vine over long spaces. Both found an odd pleasure in their flight. They were matching the Indian at his tricks, and when pushed

k and tall, and down the center flowed a swift creek which in the moonlight looked like molten silver. The uncommon brightness of the night, with its gorgeous clusters of stars, disclosed the full beauty of the valley, and the

s be, I don't hev to do, I'd build me a cabin right here in this little valley. Ain't it jest the nicest plac

nt 'em," said Henry, "bu

a warrior within a hundred miles o' us. I don't

s you feel so peaceful. It

rass an' them trees fine? an' that is shorely the best creek I've seen. Its water is

of yours, Sol. How c

an' thar are your grapes. An' up toward the end are lots o' hick'ry an' walnut trees an' thar are your nuts, an' ef Adam an' Eve wuz hard-pushed, they could ketch plenty o' fine fish in that creek which I kin see is deep. In the winter they could hev m

oonlight the little valley had a beauty, dreamlike in its quality. In that land

t hev crawled back down the hillside here, an' in other places, but I guess they wuz afeard. It's hard to hev had a fine thing an' then to hev lost it, harder than never to hev had it or

re, Sol, because it is a garden after all, a wilderness garden,

am an' Eve hev gone away this is my Garden o' Eden. It's shore

life. Besides the buffaloes they saw deer, elk, swarming small game, and an immense number of singing birds. The morning was alive with t

nry. Did you ever hear so many at one time afore, all singin'

nly a beautiful place. Look at th

I reckon, Henry, that 'till we came no human foot hez

Henry, trying to smile at the sh

' my own on the Garden o' Eden here. Thar are times when every man likes to be all by hisself, fur a while. You know how it is yourself, Henry. Jest rec'lect then that the Garden is mine. When

ittle, Sol. It's your Garden of Eden. But you'll le

ison in my knapsack, Henry, an' I reckon you hev some too. I'd like to hev

ned the luminous silver of the valley into luminous gold. They heard light footfalls of the deer moving, and the birds sang on, but there was no human sound in the valley. Their great adventure, the Indian camp, and the manifold dangers seemed to float away

first time I saw the Ohio, an' I've looked too upon the big river that the warriors call the Father o' Waters. I'm always findin' some new river or creek or lake. Nothin's old, or all trod up or worn out. Some day I'm goin' way out on them plains that you've seed, Henry, where the buff'ler are passin' millions strong. I tell you I love to go with the wind, an' at night, when

shared in his fervor. The wild men who slew and scalped could not spoil his world. He had finished his ven

out of the Indian line of march. The buffaloes are over there grazing peacefully, and I c

f'less Sol. "I like wild turkey mighty well, but even ef thar wu

u do. Your claim to it stands good, but when we're on our hunting e

e. I've a notion that I don't w

too fine a place to ha

y. You may laugh at me fur bein' a fool, b

e the smoke of the main Indian campfire off there toward the northeast

l, 'cause we can't make out that o' the smaller one

t. Look, Sol, those buffaloes, in their grazing, are coming straight toward us. The

a long time ago they've got over any feelin' o' fear o' people, ef they ever had it. Look at them deer, too, over thar, loafin' 'long through the high g

red place of the old forgotten people who had built the mounds and who had been exterminated by the Indians. But the Indians were full of superstition, and often they feared and respected the s

" he said to Shif'less Sol. "If we keep

tween the hills, that the creek comes from, an' I want to

d it narrowed fast, until it came to the gash between the hills, where grew the largest oaks and elms that he had ever seen. It was in truth a magnificent grove

through a gap not more'n ten feet wide. An' look how them big trees grow so close together, an' in a sort o' curve. Why, that's shorely whar Adam an' Eve spent thar winte

can see almost the whole length of the valley. I think we'd better stay here, Sol, and make ourselves comfortable for the rest

hicker, gatherin' here ever

there's plenty left. Now, I'm not sleepy at all. You take

' soothin' here in the Garden o' Eden,

ly, soon slept. Henry also piled the leaves high enough against the trunk of one of the largest trees to fo

hing that he would probably never know, protected it from invasion. He marked once more the fearless nature of its inhabitants. He could see now three small groups of buffaloes and all of them grazed in

and chattering rose and fell now and then, but it never ceased. The valley itself fairly sang with it, and in the ope

dred yards away, and he was able to see that it was but a narrow cleft between the hills. While he looked he saw a human f

thick with war paint, the single scalp lock standing up defiantly. The luminous glo

hing more. Presently two more figures of warriors appeared, one on either side, and they too were raised by the golden glow to

it?" exclaimed the sh

looks the valley, but they're not coming in. I think

e now, and he stared long

e valley," he said at last. "I do

ey don't see the remotes

are a part o' the band that wuz lookin' fur us. They don't keer to come into the valley, but they might hev been

Those warriors are gone now, and I pred

my nap, Henry, you take yourn. Rec'lect

he did not take his turn, and, making his leafy bed, h

ntinued. The fact that the Indians had merely come to the crest of the hill and looked into the valley, then going away, confirmed him in his beliefs. As long as Henry and he stayed th

d by his long absence and his meeting with him had been an immense relief. This and their coming into the happy valley had put him in an exalted state. The poetical side of nature al

the grass near him, showing no sign of fear, although they must have been aware of his presence. A flight of wild geese descended from the sky, dr

t the blue until it was gone in the vast sky, and a great wonder and awe filled the soul of the shiftless one. He had seen such flights countless times before, but now he began to think about the instinct that sent them on such vast journeys through the ether from south to north and back again, in an endless repe

the land of the Shawnees and Miamis, and Wyandots and he knew of the Great Lakes beyond, but north of them the wilderness still stretched to the edge of the world, where

alert at once. He glanced down the valley and saw the buffalo and deer feeding, and the great chorus of birds was going on. The

d while I slept

hing to happen here. It's got t

and as it's watch and watch, y

rose and walked about a little at times, but he did not leave the shelter of the thick little grove that the shiftless one had called a bower. It well deserved the name, b

out for a little while and Henry at first thought they had been alarmed by the coming of man, but on second thought he put it down

it and looked for a little while into the valley, but like

pply did not alarm them. This army was very small and if hunger pressed them hard there was the fore

waters of the creek sang pleasantly in the ears of the shiftless one,

, "and I knowed it wouldn't happen. Our troubles are

column of smoke from the great Indian camp was still visible, althoug

ght o' that smoke," said the shiftless

reach it in

' comes in

g comes in

ily and soon stood on one of

zn't thinkin' about fightin'," sai

l day," s

p forests that lined the far slop