Louis L'Amour by The Warrior's Path Page B

better listen. They should be turning south soon.”
    He drew up. “How do you figure?”
    â€œI’ve been remembering that big river we heard tell of. Remember? He told us that river came down from the north, took a big bend, and flowed kind of east-northeast to the sea? That river mouth was a natural harbor, kind of protected from the sea by sandy islands just like the sounds back in Carolina.
    â€œThe way I see it, those girls are headed west, and they are going to come to that river or sight it, and then they’ll have to turn south.
    â€œRemember that sailor man we talked to in Jamestown? He drew us a diagram in the dust about that river, said it was a natural trade route to the Indians up country without being bothered by those folks around the settlements.”
    We ran no more. The forest was of oak and maple, with hillsides here and there covered with the graceful white trunks of the birch. It was very still. A woodpecker tapped busily somewhere not far off, and we saw a small flight of birds holding close to the ground, flying into the brush around a small meadow.
    On moccasined feet we moved with no sound, and at brief intervals we paused to listen. Sound carries for some distance, and our ears were now attuned to the natural sounds of the wilderness, so we would quickly detect any sound foreign to the forest.
    We came up the side of a knoll, moving among the trees. Leading the way, I topped out between some oaks alongside a clear space. We were high enough to have a view all around, and my eyes caught the movement just as Yance’s did.
    â€œKin?”
    â€œI see ’em.”
    Merging our bodies with the trunks of trees beside which we stood, we watched six men coming along a trail behind us. There was no mistaking the man in the lead, for surely there could be no two men of that size who moved as he did. It was Max Bauer.
    â€œWell, what d’ you know?” Yance whispered. “Would you guess they was coming to help?”
    â€œNot much.”
    â€œTrailin’ us,” Yance said. “I got a notion—”
    â€œNo,” I said, “but we can make it hard for them. Not all at once or they’ll know we’ve seen them. Let’s just let our trail kind of fade out.”
    Several miles ahead we could see another such knoll. “See that? We’ll meet there.”
    Yance was gone into the brush like a ghost. I swear, that brother of mine could move soft as a cougar, and he was just as mean to tangle with.
    I let him go, then slipped off on the other side of the hill, leaving plain enough prints. Then I saw a hard old deadfall lying across some others like it. The bark had peeled off this one leaving the surface bare and smooth as a naked limb. I stepped up on it and walked its length, switched to another, then to a couple of rocks. From there I went into a stream and walked for a quarter of a mile in the water, which was murky from rain runoff higher up.
    Coming out on a shelf of rock, I stood still to let most of the water run off me, then followed the rock along the shore. Coming up on several deer, I threw a stick at them, and they ran across a small meadow into the trees, leaving a trail for each. Chuckling, I circled one side of the clearing. They would have to check out each deer’s trail to be sure it had not been made by or followed by a man. It would not hold them long, but it would slow them down.
    Reaching the knoll almost an hour later, I scrooched down close to a tree and gave study to the country about. Far off to the west and north I could see there was a sort of gap in the trees, which must have been that river that came into the sea up the coast from Cape Ann. That it curved around some, I already knew.
    By now, if the maids were still moving, they would be somewhere only a few miles to the north or west of us if we’d been guessing right. Yet the men who were following our trail were tracking
us
, not the girls. Yance