The Lost Trail, by Edward S. 
Ellis 
 
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Title: The Lost Trail 
Author: Edward S. Ellis 
Release Date: February 18, 2004 [eBook #11151] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: US-ASCII 
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST 
TRAIL*** 
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THE LOST TRAIL 
BY EDWARD S. ELLIS 
AUTHOR OF "SETH JONES," "THE FOREST SPY," ETC., ETC. 
1911 
 
[Illustration: "THAT INDIAN HAS CARRIED CORA 
AWAY!"--Frontispiece.] 
 
CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER 
I. 
The Shadow II. The Adventures of a Night III. The Jug Acquaintances 
IV. An Ominous Rencounter V. Gone VI. The Lost Trail VII. A 
Hibernian's Search for the Trail VIII. The Trail of Death IX. The Dead 
Shot X. Conclusion 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
He held his long rifle in his right hand, while he drew the shrubbery 
apart with his left, and looked forth at the canoe.
"A purty question, ye murtherin haythen!" 
"Where does yees get the jug?" 
Dealt the savage a tremendous blow 
"Well, At-to-uck," said he, kindly, "you seem troubled." 
The trail was lost! 
"And so, Teddy, ye're sayin' it war a white man that took away the 
missionary's wife." 
"It's all up!" muttered the dying man. "I am wiped out at last, and must 
go under!" 
"Harvey Richter--don't you know me?" he gasped. 
 
THE LOST TRAIL. 
CHAPTER I. 
THE SHADOW. 
Ye who love the haunts of nature, Love the sunshine of the meadow, 
Love the shadow of the forest, Love the wind among the branches, And 
the rain-shower and the snow-storm, And the rushing of great rivers. 
Listen to these wild traditions.--HIAWATHA. 
One day in the spring of 1820, a singular occurrence took place on one 
of the upper tributaries of the Mississippi. 
The bank, some fifteen or twenty feet in height, descended quite 
abruptly to the stream's edge. Though both shores were lined with 
dense forest, this particular portion possessed only several sparse 
clumps of shrubbery, which seemed like a breathing-space in this sea of 
verdure--a gate in the magnificent bulwark with which nature girts her
streams. This green area commanded a view of several miles, both up 
and down stream. 
Had a person been observing this open spot on the afternoon of the day 
in question, he would have seen a large bowlder suddenly roll from the 
top of the bank to bound along down the green declivity and fall into 
the water with a loud splash. This in itself was nothing remarkable, as 
such things are of frequent occurrence in the great order of things, and 
the tooth of time easily could have gnawed away the few crumbs of 
earth that held the stone in poise. 
Scarcely five minutes had elapsed, however, when a second bowlder 
rolled downward in a manner precisely similar to its predecessor, and 
tumbled into the water with a rush that resounded across and across 
from the forest on either bank. 
Even this might have occurred in the usual course of things. Stranger 
events take place every day. The loosening of the first stone could have 
opened the way for the second, although a suspicious observer might 
naturally have asked why its fall did not follow more immediately. 
But, when precisely the same interval had elapsed, and a third stone 
followed in the track of the others, there could be no question but what 
human agency was concerned in the matter. It certainly appeared as if 
there were some intent in all this. In this remote wilderness, no white 
man or Indian would find the time or inclination for such child's play, 
unless there was a definite object to be accomplished. 
And yet, scrutinized from the opposite bank, the lynx-eye of a veteran 
pioneer would have detected no other sign of the presence of a human 
being than the occurrences that we have already narrated; but the most 
inexperienced person would have decided at once upon the 
hiding-place of him who had given the moving impulse to the bodies. 
Just at the summit of the bank was a mass of shrubbery of sufficient 
extent and density to conceal a dozen warriors. And within this, beyond 
doubt, was one person, at least, concealed; and it was certain, too, that 
from his    
    
		
	
	
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