CHAPTER IV.The Man Under the Bed.
The Eagle tavern was a long, low structure and stood close beside the highway, on the opposite side of which was the weather-beaten log and frame barn to which John had referred. Near the tavern was a well and an old-fashioned sweep towering above it. At the roadside there was a moss-covered log trough at which horses were watered. An air of loneliness, such as is noticed about old, deserted houses, whose door-yards have grown up to rank weeds and briars, hung over the tavern, and the deep shadows cast by the setting sun heightened this effect. Little wonder is it that a feeling of depression came over the young travelers as they approached.
No other houses were near the tavern and guests were evidently few. The road which passed it was not a main thoroughfare, and no stage-coach made the Eagle a regular stopping-place. It may have been a handsome; much-frequentedplace at one time, but those days had long since departed.
Up to the watering-trough Ree drove, however, and unreined the horse, that it might drink.
“It does look kind of creepy around here,” he remarked in an undertone; “but put on a bold front, John, we are going to stay, just to prove to ourselves that we are not afraid.”
“I would a great deal rather camp out,” John frankly confessed, “but you are the captain, Ree. I can stand it if you can.”
A skulking fellow of about thirty years, none the handsomer for having lost nearly all his front teeth, came to help put up their horse when the boys had made their wants known inside the tavern. No unusual thing occurred, however, and the young travelers had shaken off the gloomy feelings which the lonely place inspired by the time their supper was ready. As they were by themselves at the table, a man whom Ree had not seen before approached and took a chair nearby, tilting back against the wall and calmly surveying them.
John kicked Ree’s shins under the table. It was not, perhaps, a polite way of imparting the information that this was the fellow he had seenpeering out of the barn, but Ree understood perfectly.
Having eyed the boys for a minute or two, the stranger said, in a gruff, indifferent tone:
“Good evenin’.”
“Good evening, sir,” spoke Ree, and John’s voice repeated the words like an echo.
“Traveled far?” growled the stranger.
“Far enough for one day,” Ree answered, little inclined to engage in conversation with the man, for the fellow’s appearance was far from favorable. The sneaking glance of his eyes, his unshaved face and uncouth dress, half civilized, half barbarian, gave him an air of lawlessness, though except for these things he might have been considered handsome.
For a minute the stranger did not speak, and John suppressed a laugh as he saw with what cool unconcern Ree returned the fellow’s stare whenever he looked at them.
“Don’t show off your smartness, bub,” sharply spoke the man at last, as he fully comprehended that Ree had purposely given him an evasive answer, “I asked a civil enough question.”
“And got a civil answer,” Ree quickly replied.
“I see you are emigrating,” the stranger went on, trying to make his coarse voice sound friendly. “I just had in mind puttin’ a flea in your ear. Because it is the wrong time of year to be goin’ west, in the first place, and the woods are full of Indians and the roads alive with cutthroats, in the second place. If I was you young shavers I’d sell out and wait a year or two, or till next spring anyhow, before goin’ any further. I s’pose you have a lot of goods in your cart; goin’ to do some tradin’ with the Mingoes, maybe.”
John pricked up his ears at this reference to the nature of their cart’s contents, but waited for Ree to speak. This the latter did at once, respectfully but firmly.
“We are much obliged for your advice and the interest you take in us, but we expect to be able to take care of ourselves both on the road and in the woods. Aren’t you the man we saw in the barn as we were coming up?”
The question was an experimental thrust. Ree wished to learn whether the fellow would give a reason for having spied upon them. The man looked at him searchingly before replying.
“I never clapped eyes on you till you come into this room,” he coolly said, however. “What do you take me for? I was only goin’ to tell you that I know a man that will buy your outfit if you want to sell!”
“Which we do not,” said Ree with moderate emphasis.
“You would find a little ready money mighty handy; I don’t s’pose you have any too much,” the stranger replied with assumed carelessness.
“Say; tell us what you are trying to get at, will you!” John spoke up, with a show of spirit.
“Hold your horses, sonny!” the fellow growled. “You are almost too big for your breeches!”
“Well what do you take us for! Maybe you have some more questions to ask!” John exclaimed, and Ree smiled to see how heated he had become.
The stranger relapsed into silence, and presently arose and strolled away.
Having finished their supper, the boys went into the general sitting-room of the tavern, a long room in one end of which there was a bar, and sat down by themselves to talk. As their conversationflagged, Ree drew from his belt beneath his coat, the ivory handled knife Captain Bowen had been at such pains to give them. In an idle, listless way he began stropping the blade on his boot-leg.
A tall, lank man of fifty, with a thin, sharp face and nose, whom the lads had noticed sitting opposite them, reading a pamphlet of some kind, came nearer and seemed to take an unusual interest in the sharpening of the knife. His keen eyes watched every movement the blade made. Coming close up, he quietly said:
“If that ar ain’t Cap. Bowen’s knife over to Bruceville, he hes the mate to it! His’n is the only knife I ever see with a handle like that.”
“Do you know Captain Bowen?” asked Ree, and as the man said he did, and told them who he was, both lads held out their hands which the newcomer shook cordially. It was like meeting someone from home; for the lanky individual was a peddler who had often visited at Captain Bowen’s house and knew many of their friends.
As they talked further the peddler said, sinking his voice to an undertone, “I want yeow youngsters to hev some advice; it won’t cost yenothin’, an’ it may save ye a heap of trouble. There’s a bad ’un stayin’ at this old tavern, an’ he’s likely to want yeow boys to pay fer his rum. Naow, he won’t ask ye fer money, but be all-fired keerful that he don’t git it from ye anyhow. Jes sleep with one eye open, an’ hev a hick’ry club handy t’ yer bed.”
Ree told the peddler of their conversation with the stranger at the table, and as he described the fellow, their new friend said:
“He ar the one, an’ him an’ the hos’ler here are bad ’uns.”
As the hour grew late Ree and John went to the barn to see that their cart and horse had been properly cared for, and returning, went immediately to bed. For half an hour they lay awake talking of their journey. Their money was between them in the big four-poster and each had a pistol within reach. At last they said “Good night” to one another, and settling themselves in comfortable positions, composed themselves to sleep.
All had grown quiet about the old tavern. The ticking of the big clock down stairs, and the baying of a hound off in the woods somewhere, were the only sounds which reached the ears ofthe young emigrants. And thus they forgot their travels and where they were, and the danger which hovered near.
It was sometime after midnight when Ree was suddenly awakened. He had heard no sound, nor could he tell what had disturbed his slumber; but he had instantly found himself, eyes wide open, every sense alert. Without the slightest noise or movement he lay listening. A minute later he felt for just an instant the touch of something cold against his skin.
“A snake,” was his first thought, and a little thrill of horror crossed him as the idea of a reptile being in their bed, flashed over his brain. Again he felt the touch, cold and clammy against his side; and, intending to grab the serpent, if such it was, and hurl it from the bed, with a quick movement of his arm he made a desperate grab. He caught and for but an instant held a human hand, large and coarse.
“John!” Ree spoke the name with startled emphasis, and its owner rose up in bed like a flash.
“What? What is it?”
“There is some one in this room! He has been reaching into the bed, trying to rob us.”
As he spoke Ree sprang out upon the floor. “And here’s the window open! That shows where he came in. Get your pistol and be ready to fire if he tries to jump out. I am going to skirmish for the rascal!”
Faint rays of moonlight made the room not entirely dark, but Ree could see no sign of the intruder as he stepped softly to the middle of the floor. It was a useless action; for, as he was between the three dark walls and the window in the outer wall, the robber could easily see him without being seen himself. It was a fault of Return Kingdom’s that he did not properly consider his own safety, and the wonder is that he did not in this instance become the target for a bullet.
“I’d better yell for help,” suggested John.
“You’d better not!” said Ree emphatically, peering into the dark corners. “I cannot be mistaken, but if I should be—well we don’t care to be laughed at.”
Not a sound was heard as both boys remained perfectly quiet. Then on tip-toe Ree went to all the corners of the room, his left hand outstretched before him while his right held a pistol ready for instant use.
“John, did you sneeze?” he demanded as a smothered “kerchoo” came from the direction of his friend.
“He’s under the bed, Ree! He’s under the bed! Call help!” This was John’s answer and his tone was sharp with excitement.
In a trice Ree was at the foot of the bed and looking beneath it. A dark object there moved slightly.
“Come out of that!” Ree sternly demanded, and the click of his pistol as he cocked the weapon sounded loud and clear. At the same moment the object beneath the four-poster began to crawl and soon coming forth, stood erect—the stranger the boys had met at supper.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” ejaculated Ree with an inflection of contempt in his voice; but the next instant the intruder’s hands were about his throat.
“Help! Help!” yelled John Jerome.
Finding the young man he had seized, a much harder problem than he was prepared to handle, and frightened by John’s cries, the stranger gave Ree a shove and sprang toward the window.
“Help! Robbers!” yelled John again, andnow the stranger had one leg out of the window. But he got no further. Ree seized him about the body; the robber seized him in turn, and his foot striking the ladder by which he had climbed up, it went tumbling to the ground. With a frightful oath the fellow endeavored to throw Ree after it. For a second they both balanced on the window sill at the very verge of falling. Then John seized the robber’s hair, and dealt him a blow with the butt of his pistol. He raised the weapon to strike again, but Ree had now secured his release from the villain’s grasp and fired at him just as the fellow plunged to the ground, leaving a bunch of his black hair quivering in John’s hand.
The bullet took effect, for the boys found blood on the ground beneath the window next morning; but the robber dashed around a corner out of range at such speed that there was no opportunity to fire a second time.
A pounding on the door told the youthful travelers that the house had been aroused, and they lost no time in admitting the landlord, accompanied by the greatly excited peddler.
“What’s all the row about?” demanded thetavern-keeper, holding a lighted candle over his shoulder.
“I want to investigate before I say what it isallabout,” Ree answered, emphasizing the “all.”
“A pretty sort of a place, this is!” put in John indignantly. “We might have been murdered in our beds!”
“How can I help it, boy? Just you keep your breeches on!”
“I’ll have to put them on first,” John ejaculated, and forthwith proceeded to do so.
Ree took the landlord’s candle and turned back the bed clothing. He found the leather wallet containing their money, undisturbed, but as he picked it up, he noticed a hole in the sheets and tick of the bed.
“Look, here,” he exclaimed, “here is where the row you complain of, began. The man who has just gone out of the window, evidently crawled under the bed and having cut a hole through the tick, reached for our wallet. His cold hand on my bare skin waked me up. The question is, how did he know where the money was?”
“The skunk!” exclaimed the peddler, eyeing the tavern-keeper sharply.
“How should I know anything about it?” the landlord hotly responded. “I ain’t responsible for there being robbers about, am I?”
Ree had joined John in the task of dressing, while the proprietor of the establishment sat on the bed, the least concerned of any, over what had taken place.
“Haow should yeow know anythin’ about it?” cried the peddler suddenly turning toward the man. “Why, yeow ain’t even asked who the thief was! Yeow wouldn’t ’a come up stairs if I hadn’t ’most dragged ye! It looks consarned strange, that’s what I say! An’ yeow settin’ there like a stick, sayin’, ‘Haow kin I help it!’”
The landlord winced and squirmed, and was glad enough to hurry down stairs when Ree said authoritatively: “Now let’s have no further talk about this matter, but get our breakfasts at once, if you please. It will soon be daylight.”
“Ree Kingdom, you make me mad!” cried John Jerome, as the landlord disappeared. “Why didn’t you let me crack that old villain on the head? If I didn’t know that you are the only one here who has kept cool, I’d be mad inearnest. If any of our goods have been disturbed, I’ll show the old Tory!”
Ree smiled at his friend’s blustering tone, but the peddler slapped him on the back and told him he was a “reg-lar man-o’-war with flags a-flyin’.”
The gray glimmer of dawn was in sight as the boys crossed the road to the barn and by the light of the tallow candle in the old-time lantern, inspected their cart and horse. All was secure. Recognizing his young masters by the fine instinct some animals have, Jerry, their horse, whinnied loudly, as though saying he was all right but ready to move as soon as convenient. Hay and grain were given the faithful animal, and the boys went in to their own breakfast.
The meal of potatoes and bacon was soon disposed of, the peddler sitting at the table with them. He was going in their direction for a mile or two and would accompany the lads, he said.
“We’ll be glad to have you,” Ree answered.
“Whatever Ree Kingdom says, I say—only he always gets the words out first,” said John. “I am like the old trapper who came hurrying up to General Washington saying he could lickall the Redcoats on earth with one hand tied behind his back. But the war was all over then, though he did not know it, and so he didn’t get a chance to try. He meant well, you see, but was a little behind hand.”
“That’s a pert yarn,” smiled the peddler, “an’ there ain’t nobody gladder than I be tew see yeow so chipper; but I swan, lads, I only hope ye’ll be as jolly as ye be naow, come six months—I only hope ye will be!”
CHAPTER V.A Mysterious Shot in the Darkness.
“I am going to keep my eyes open for that cut-throat that was under the bed. There’s no telling what he might not do,” said John with quiet determination, to Ree, when the peddler had left them and they were fairly under way for the journey of another day.
“I have thought of that,” Ree answered, “and you see I have put the rifles where they will be handy. There is no use of carrying them, I guess, but the time is coming when they must always be within reach.”
The peddler had accompanied the boys to a cross-roads a couple of miles from the Eagle tavern, enlivening them with many odd tales of his experiences. Now they were alone again, and as the country through which they passed became rougher and wilder, the lads realized more fully than ever that theirs was a serious undertaking.
Yet they were happy. The trees were puttingon bright colors; the air was fragrant with the odor of autumn vegetation. The water in every stream they crossed was fresh and clear, and fall rains had made green the woodland clearings. Quail called musically from time to time, and once the “Kee-kee-keow-kee-kee” of a wild turkey was heard.
At noon, beside a dashing brook which tumbled itself over a stony bed as though in glee with its own noisiness, the travelers halted. They unhitched Jerry that he might graze, and kindled a fire to boil some eggs. These with brown bread, a generous supply of which Mrs. Catesby had given them, and ginger cake which Mary Catesby had announced she had made with her own hands, made a meal which anyone might have relished. To the boys, their appetites sharpened by the fine air, every morsel they put between their lips seemed delicious.
“We won’t long have such fare,” they reminded one another.
“We will have venison three times a day though,” said John.
“Yes, we will have so much meat we will be good and tired of it; because we must be saving of our meal this winter, and until our own corn grows,” Ree answered thoughtfully.
“Well, don’t be so melancholy about it, Old Sobersides,” cried John. “Why, for my part, I could just yell for the joy of it when I think how snug we will be in our cabin this winter! And what a fine time we are going to have choosing a location and building our log house!”
“That, as I have so often said,” Ree answered, “is the one thing about our whole venture that I do not like. We will be ‘squatters.’ We won’t own the land we settle upon except that we shall have bought it of the Indians; and that is a deed which the government will not recognize. But we will have to take our chances of making our title good when the time comes, though we may have to pay a second time to the men or company, or whoever secures from the government the territory where we shall be. Or we might settle near enough to General Putnam’s colony to be able to buy land of them. We must wait and see what is best to do.”
“Ree,” said John, earnestly, “I know you are right; you always are. But I don’t like to think of those things—only of the hunting and trapping and fixing up our place, and eating wild turkey and other good things before our big fire-place in winter—and all that. You see wewill have to sort of balance each other. You furnish the brains, and I’ll do the work.”
“Oh that sounds grand, but—” Ree laughed and left the sentence unfinished.
When, by the sun, their only time-piece, the boys judged they had been an hour and a half in camp, they resumed their journey. They had secured so early a start that morning, that they had no doubt they would reach the Three Corners, the next stopping-place designated on Captain Bowen’s map, before night; and indeed it lacked a half hour of sundown when they drove up to the homely but pleasant tavern at that point. It was so different a place from the Eagle tavern that the boys had no fear when they went to bed, that the unpleasant experience of the night before would be repeated.
Several days followed unmarked by any special incident, except that the lads were delayed and a part of their goods badly shaken up by their cart upsetting into a little gully. Fortunately, however, little damage was done.
At the end of two weeks so thinly settled a country had been reached that nearly every night was spent in camp. Yet these were not disagreeable nor was there much danger. Only one manwho answered the general description of a “cut-throat” had been seen, and he seemed inclined to make little trouble. He rode out on a jet black horse from a barn, near which a house had at one time stood, its site still marked by charred logs and a chimney. Perhaps it had been burned in the war-time; at any rate the place had a forsaken, disagreeable appearance, and the rough-looking stranger emerging suddenly from the barn, put the young emigrants on their guard at once.
For two hours the man rode in company with the boys, and finding out who they were, proposed to spend the night with them. Ree would have permitted it, but by his actions John so plainly gave the fellow to understand what he thought of him, that the stranger at last rode back in the direction he had come, cursing John for the opinions which the latter had expressed. The boys slept with “one eye open” that night.
Daily the road became worse and worse. For great distances it was bordered on both sides by forests and the country was rough and broken. There were wild animals and, undoubtedly, Indians not far away, but the settlements were yet too near for the young travelers to have muchfear. So when their camp fire had burned low in the evening, they piled on large sticks of wood, put their feet to the blaze, and, wrapped in their blankets, slept splendidly. One night when it rained—and the water came down in torrents—they made their bed inside the cart; but if the weather was pleasant they preferred to be beside the glowing coals.
An adventure which had an important bearing on the future, befell the boys early in the fourth week of their travels. They had resolved to be saving of their ammunition, and wasted no powder in killing game for which they had no use, though they twice saw wild turkeys and once a bear, as they left civilization farther and farther behind. But when provisions from home began to run low, it happened, as so often it does, that when they felt the need of game to replenish their larder they chanced upon scarcely any.
“One of us must go through the woods, keeping in line with the road, and shoot something or other this afternoon,” said Ree, at dinner one day. “The other will not be far away when he returns to the road again.”
“Which?” John smiled.
“I don’t care. You go this time and I willtry my luck another day,” Ree answered. “Get a couple of turkeys, if you can, old boy; or, if you can get a deer, the weather is cool and the meat will keep.”
So John set off, planning to work his way into the woods gradually and then follow the general direction of the road and come out upon it sometime before sun-set. He waved his hand to Ree, a smile on his happy freckled face as he disappeared amid the timber.
Slowly old Jerry plodded on; slowly the miles slipped to the rear; slowly the time passed. Ree thought of many things during the afternoon and planned how he and John should spend the winter hunting and trapping and secure, he hoped, a large quantity of furs. Two chests they had were filled with goods for trade with the Indians, also, and they would receive skins in return. These would add greatly to the store they themselves accumulated, and they should realize a considerable sum when they came to market them. Ree hoped so. It was no part of his plan to go into the forest fastnesses merely to hunt and trap and lead a rough life. No, indeed! He wished to make a home, to grow up with the country and “be somebody.”
Lower and lower the sun sank behind the darkness of the trees which seemed to rise skyward in the western horizon, and as the early October twilight approached, Ree began to watch for John’s coming. He had listened from time to time but had heard no gun discharged, and he laughed to himself as he thought what John’s chagrin would be if he were obliged to come into camp empty-handed. And when Old Sol, slipped out of sight and his chum had not appeared, he inwardly commented: “You went farther into the woods than was good for you, my boy! I suspect I have already left you a good ways behind.”
So he drove to a little knoll beneath an old oak, and unhitched. He kindled a fire, then busied himself straightening up some of the boxes and bundles which had slipped from position during the day, often stopping to look back along the trail in hope of seeing John; and when the darkness had become so dense he could see but a few rods from the camp-fire and still his chum was missing, alarm invaded Ree’s thoughts. He could not imagine what detained the boy. But he toasted some bread and broiled some bacon for his supper.
A sense of loneliness over his solitary meal added to Ree’s anxiety, because of John’s non-appearance, and presently he walked back along the road a considerable distance, whistling the call they had adopted years before. The darkness gave every object an unnatural, lifelike look; bushes and tree trunks assumed fantastic shapes. No human habitation was within miles of the spot, and as the echoes of the whistling died away and no answer came, Ree was almost frightened. Not for himself but on John’s account was he conscious of a gloomy foreboding in all his thoughts. What should he do if the boy had fallen a victim of some bear, perhaps, or lawless men.
Slowly he retraced his steps to the campfire’s light. Weighing the whole question carefully, however, as to whether he had not better go in search of his friend, he decided he could do no wiser thing than to remain where he was until daylight; then if John had not arrived, he would set out to find him.
Piling more wood on the fire that the light might help to guide John to camp, the lonely boy wrapped a blanket about his shoulders and sat down, resolved to remain awake to watch andlisten. He heard only the soughing wind and old Jerry nibbling the short grass nearby, and the hooting of an owl in the forest gloom. Thus an hour passed, and then suddenly a sound of soft footsteps broke upon the boy’s ear. Was it John slipping up stealthily to try to scare him? Ree thought it was, but in another instant he detected the foot-falls of more than one person, and sprang to his feet.
“How!” The word was spoken in a deep guttural tone almost before Ree had time to face about. At the same moment he saw two Indians stalking toward him.
“Howdy!” Ree promptly answered, though filled with misgiving; for at a glance he saw that the savages were fully armed. One was of middle age, tall and stately as a king. The other was much younger. As they came within reach Ree held out his hand, but the Indian either did not see or refused to accept the proffered greeting.
Nevertheless Ree spread a blanket near the fire and asked the savages to sit down. They made no reply. The older of them looked at him intently and gazed around in evident surprise to see the lad alone. The younger stepped around the fire and looked inquiringly into the cart.
“I am just a trader,” said Ree, with an open frankness in his tones which even a savage must have appreciated. “There are two of us, but my partner went hunting and has not yet come back. Sit down, brothers; I have no fresh meat to offer you, but my friend will soon return with some, I hope.”
The elder Indian seated himself saying: “White men steal, Indians no steal.”
“There are good Indians and good white men,” answered Ree, but he was keeping an eye on the younger savage, who seemed to have found something in the cart which interested him, for he slyly put his hand inside.
“Oh, do be seated!” Ree exclaimed as he noticed this. There was irony in his voice which made the older Indian shrug his shoulders, but the young white man led the Indian brave, a chap but little older than himself, away from the cart. With some force he drew the buck to a blanket and motioned to him to sit down.
Appearing to give the matter no further thought, Ree placed bacon before the Indians saying simply “Eat.” They drew out their knives and cut and broiled each a slice of the meat. This they ate, and it was rather remarkablethat they did so, for Ree well knew that the Redskins had no relish for food which had been freely salted. He therefore judged their eating to be a sign of friendliness, and seated himself quietly by the fire.
“White man go far—goes to Ohio? Yes—long way—far—far. Snow comes; hurry fast,” said the older Indian.
“Yes,” said Ree, guessing at the speaker’s meaning. “We have a long way to go, and must be in our cabin before deep snow comes.”
“Delaware country—much game,” the Indian was saying, Ree having told him whither they were bound, when suddenly a rifle cracked behind them and a bullet whistled past Ree’s ear. The young Indian at the opposite side of the fire, gasped and fell backward.
Seizing his rifle, Ree instantly sprang away from the firelight. The elder redskin did likewise and just as quickly.
Who could have fired the shot? Ree trembled with dread that it had been John. All was quiet save for the night wind rustling the leaves and branches overhead. There came no sound to indicate whose hand had sped the bullet from out of the forest gloom.
A minute passed. It seemed like ten, to Return Kingdom, and, forgetting prudence, he stepped from behind the cart’s protection, full into the campfire’s ruddy glow, making of himself an easy target. He bent over the wounded Indian and found the blood flowing from a wound in the young brave’s neck. Quickly he tied his handkerchief about the injury, then bathed the fellow’s forehead and temples with water from the bucket he had filled at supper time. The older Indian crept up to watch this operation, but did not come fully within the lighted circle.
“Who fired that shot, my friend?” Ree asked, very earnestly.
“White men steal,” the Indian answered, and shook his head.
It was evident then that the savage suspected some white person of having made this attack with intent to commit robbery. Ree hoped this was the truth of the matter but there was a terrible suspicion growing in his mind that his own friend and partner, through some awful mistake, had fired upon the Indian. He drew the wounded man to the rear of the cart and placed him on a blanket beyond the campfire’s light. The othersavage made no move to help him, but crouched in the darkness intently listening, watching.
Of a sudden the Indian’s rifle flew like a flash to his shoulder. At the same instant Ree heard John Jerome’s familiar whistle, and springing forward, seized the red man’s weapon in time to prevent the speeding of a leaden messenger of death to his friend’s heart. He answered John’s call as he did this, praying and hoping that it could not—must not, have been his friend who had fired the shot which would probably end the younger Indian’s life.
CHAPTER VI.On Lonely Mountain Roads.
“What’s happened, Ree?”
The tone in which John asked the question, satisfied Kingdom that his friend knew nothing of the shooting. Better than this, however, it satisfied the Indian who knelt silently nearby, still listening, that the boy he had so nearly shot, knew nothing of the person who had fired from the darkness.
Quietly, but in tones the Indian could hear, Ree related what he knew of the mysterious occurrence.
“Who could it have been, Chief!” John asked, turning to the Redskin and addressing him with the easy familiarity he used toward every one.
The Indian shook his head. “Paleface,” he grunted at last; “no tried to kill Indian; tried to kill white brother there. Black Eagle thinks long and knows how bullet flew. Man-that-shoots-from-the-dark wishes much to steal.”
Black Eagle’s theory was far from satisfying Ree, but the Indian’s manner persuaded the boy that the redskin at least knew nothing of the attack himself. Yet both boys knew the necessity of keeping a sharp eye turned in all directions. They could not tell positively as yet whether the Indians were friends or foes, nor at what moment an attack might be made by a hidden enemy.
“What kept you, John? I was worried,” Ree said in an undertone, yet taking care that Black Eagle should hear, lest the savage should suspect him of plotting. But before John could answer, the red man, bending low, darted away in the darkness.
“What’s the old chap up to?” asked John, startled by the Indian’s sudden movement.
“I think he is only scouting around to see what he can discover; but keep your eyes and ears open, it has been mighty ticklish around here to-night.”
As they watched and listened, John told of his afternoon’s experience. He had gone a long way into the woods without seeing any such game as he wished, and had about decided to content himself with some squirrels, and return tothe road, when he came upon a deer-lick—a pool of salt or brackish water, in a flat, level place, to which deer and other animals came to drink, or to lick the earth at the water’s edge to satisfy the craving which all animals have for salt. As it was then nearly sundown he determined to hide nearby, confident he would get a shot at a deer as soon as darkness came. Concealing himself in some brush at the north side of the lick, the wind being from the south, he waited.
Scarcely had the sun set when a fine young doe approached the brackish pool. One shot from his rifle brought the pretty animal down, and in a few more minutes he had secured the skin and best portions of the meat. Slinging these over his shoulder, he set out to find the road and Ree’s camp-fire. But he had been careless in keeping his bearings, and walked a long way in the wrong direction. When he did find the road at last, he knew not which way to go to find the camp. He secured a light, however, by flashing powder in his gun, and thus found the tracks of old Jerry and the cart. He then knew which way to go, but traveled a couple of miles before coming within sight of the camp-fire.
He heard a rifle shot but paid little attentionto it, and saw nothing of any prowler, though he came up in the direction from which the mysterious attack was made. When Ree called to him, he had dropped the venison and it still lay at the roadside a hundred yards from camp.
“We must have an understanding with one another that when either of us leaves camp, he shall return at a given time unless something happens to prevent it,” said Ree; “then the other will know that something has happened and can act accordingly. I was probably not more than a mile away when you found that deer-lick. If you had let me know, it would have saved a lot of worry on my part. Why, I was just on the point of going in search of you. And as it was, old boy, you whistled just in time. That Indian heard you coming before I did, and a little more—”
“And he would have sent me to Kingdom come,” said John, finishing the sentence, very soberly. “Your watchfulness saved me, and I can’t—”
“You better get your venison into camp,” Ree whispered, interrupting John’s thanks, “I’ll crawl over and see how that young Indian’s getting along—poor chap.”
The wounded Redskin was conscious as Ree bent over him.
“Don’t speak if it will hurt you, but if you can, tell me who fired that shot at you,” Ree urged.
“Black Eagle come soon,” was the buck’s only answer; and indeed it was but a few minutes until the other Indian returned. Ree met him and inquired calmly. “What luck, Black Eagle?”
“Gone. Paleface robber gone.”
“Who was it? Where has he gone?”
“Gone,” the savage repeated.
“Turn in and get some sleep, John; Black Eagle and I will watch a while,” said Ree.
“Gone,” growled the Indian with gruff dignity; and wrapped himself in a blanket and was soon asleep.
John likewise lay down, but Ree, resolving to exercise every care, remained awake through the whole night. Twice John awoke and wanted to take a turn at guard duty but each time he was told to go back and “Cover up his head.” Reluctantly he did so. He felt that he would do anything in his power for Ree Kingdom, but he was far from guessing what Fate had in store forhim to do in his friend’s behalf before they should see Connecticut again.
With the first light of morning Ree went reconnoitering hoping to find the trail of the young Indian’s mysterious assailant. Scarcely had he started when Black Eagle joined him, and in the road three hundred paces from the camp they came upon the trail together. A single man had approached the camp on foot—a white man it was certain, for he wore boots—and from behind a thick thorn bush had fired the shot. Then the trail led back along the road, but soon disappeared in the woods.
“If North Wind die, scalp will hang here,” said Black Eagle, pointing to his belt. “Black Eagle follows trail long—even many moons, but he will get the paleface scalp.”
What to do Ree did not quite know. He disliked to lose time in helping the Indian to find the man who had shot his son, yet disliked to leave the wounded North Wind without doing something for him.
“White brothers go far; go now,” said Black Eagle as they returned to the camp. “Go long way off and never mind. North Wind stays with Black Eagle,” the Indian added.
Ree made no objection to this arrangement. Reaching camp they found that John had some venison steaks ready. The young Indian arose and greeted Ree by silently shaking his hand. It was plain to be seen that he was suffering greatly, but he said nothing and when the breakfast was ready he tried to eat.
Thankful that the night of watching was past, Ree and John prepared to pursue their journey. They watered Jerry at the little brook hard by and hitched him to the cart. When they were ready, Ree took a knife from their stock of goods and gave it to Black Eagle, who with North Wind stood looking on, saying:
“Maybe we will never meet again, but here is a present which we wish you to keep. We do not know the enemy who fired upon us, but we were in danger together and whether it was your foe or ours, who attacked us, we would have fought together. Good-bye.”
“We journey to the fires of the Mohawks,” Black Eagle answered. “North Wind now goes forward but Black Eagle, his father, follows the trail of snake which shoots from the dark.”
As he spoke the Indian turned and strode away. North Wind followed, Ree’s handkerchiefstill about his neck. He was really too sick to travel, but it is a severe wound, indeed, which makes an Indian unable to move when necessity demands it.
For a moment the young travelers looked after the red men; then a word to their horse and they were once more upon their way.
It was a glorious morning. Particles of frost glistened on the leaves and grass and in the road; a light wind set the trees and brushes rustling, a rabbit went bouncing across the path, and still neither boy spoke as they tramped along beside the cart, Ree in advance, driving.
“Who fired that shot?” John asked at last, as though speaking to himself.
“May as well ask old Jerry, or the wind,” Ree answered. “The same question has been on my mind so long I am trying to think of something else.”
“But I can’t help wondering,” John persisted, “if it could have been the lone horseman we saw the other day. Could it have been Big Pete Ellis, trying to kill you, Ree? I have been expecting to meet that fellow.”
“We must keep our eyes about us,” was the only reply.
Several days passed and the mystery of the shot from the darkness was still unsolved. The boys had now reached the mountainous country and the nights were often cold. The days, too, gave promise of winter’s coming, and had it not been that they were hopeful of Indian summer weather in November the young travelers would have been discouraged. Their progress had not been so rapid as they had planned. The roads were too bad to permit fast traveling. In many places they were little better than paths through the woods, and though there were stretches of smoother going, occasionally, there were other spots in which fallen trees or other obstructions blocked the way.
Old Jerry stood the strain of the journey well, and that was certainly a consolation; for some of their friends back in Connecticut had told the boys they had better stay at home, than attempt to make the trip with only one horse. Often, too, it was the case that the lads drove far out of their course to pass around great obstacles, and they eventually found that they had gone miles out of their true course. Many were the hardships they encountered, and one adventure which they had must be related here.
For days at a time no human being was met on those lonely mountain trails and it was this fact which gave rise to much uneasiness when John one day, for just a moment caught sight of a rough-appearing fellow in their rear. He had gone back along the road to search for a bolt which was lost from the cart box, when he chanced to look up and saw the strange fellow a quarter of a mile away, coming toward him. The man raised his rifle and sprang in among some trees as he caught sight of John, his movement being so quick that the boy did not get a good look at him, and neither in going on beyond the spot where the fellow had been, nor in returning after he had found the lost bolt, did John see him again.
“We must be on the watch-out constantly,” said Ree when told of the incident. “I would have thought nothing of it, but for the man’s desire to hide.”
“That is what I can’t understand,” said John, and as he thought the matter over it added to a downcast feeling which had seized upon him. It was by his looks more than by words that he betrayed his low-spirited condition, then, and at other times, as day after day nothing save thetrees, great rocks and wooded hills and frowning mountain sides were seen.
On the other hand, Ree’s quiet disposition seemed almost to disappear in the face of hardships and difficult obstacles. If the cart broke down he whistled “Yankee Doodle,” while he managed to mend it. If the road was especially rough and their progress most unpleasantly slow, he was certain to sing. Even Jerry could not fail to catch the spirit of his cheerfulness no matter what bad luck they had, and from looking glum, John would change to light-heartedness every time. Ree’s smile was a never failing remedy for his blues.
“Time enough to be blue and all put out when you have utterly failed,” Ree exclaimed one day. “And if you only make up your mind to it, it is the simplest thing in the world not to fail. If I were the general of an army, I wouldn’t own up that I was whipped as long as I had a breath left. Now just suppose that Washington had given up at Valley Forge!”
“Well, I want to say that the chap who starts out west thinking he is going on a frolic, will be mighty badly fooled,” John answered. “I am learning, but it is like the Indian who believedpowder didn’t amount to much unless it was in a gun; so he filled his pipe with it. He learned a heap.”
“Ho, ho, pardners both!”
The voice came so suddenly to the young travelers, they started and looked around questioningly. With a flying leap from some brush which bordered the road, came an odd looking woodsman.
“Lift my ha’r if ye ain’t the nearest bein’ kittens of anythin’ I’ve clapped my old goggles on in the emygrant line in all my born days!” Putting his hands to his sides the stranger laughed uproariously.
“Oh, it’s funny, ain’t it!” exclaimed John Jerome, witheringly.
“Age is not always a sign of wisdom,” said Ree Kingdom in much the same tone.
“Right ye be, lad; right ye be,” said the woodsman, quieting himself. “But I swan I’m that glad to see ye so young an’ bloomin’, both, that it jes does me old eyes good. Where ye bound fer, anyhow?”
The speaker was tall and rugged, his age probably fifty years. A grizzled beard clustered round his face and his unkempt hair hung almostto his shoulders. On his head was a ragged coon-skin cap. All his dress was made of skin or furs, in the crudest frontier fashion. He was not a disagreeable appearing person, nevertheless, for his eyes twinkled merrily as a boy’s. Each in his own way, Ree and John noted these facts.
“I might say that we are going till we stop and that we came from where we started,” said John in answer to the stranger’s inquiry.
“What a peart kitten ye be!” smiled the man, looking at him quizzically.
“To be honest with you, we are going to the Ohio country,” said Ree Kingdom, satisfied that the stranger wished to be friendly.
“Ye’ve got spunk, I swan!” the fellow exclaimed. “Don’t let me be keepin’ ye though; drive along, we kin swap talk as we’re movin’.”
“How far do you call it to old Fort Pitt?” asked Ree.
“Well, it ain’t so fer as a bird kin fly, an’ its ferder than ye want to walk in a day. If ye have good luck ye’ll come on to Braddock’s road afore supper time, an’ if ye don’t have good luck, there’s no tellin’ when ye’ll get thar. It want such a great ways from here that Braddock hadhisbad luck. If hehadn’thad it—if he’d done as George Washington wanted him to, he’d ‘a’ got along like grease on a hot skillet, same as you youngsters.”
“Hear that John? We will make Fort Pitt in a day or two,” cried Ree.
“Yaas, it was forty odd years ago that Braddock had his bad luck when he bumped into a lot of Injuns in ambush. I was jest a chunk of a boy then, but I’ve hearn tell on it, many’s the time, by my old gran’sire who learned me how to shoot. I was a reg’lar wonder with a gun when I was your age, kittens. I’ve picked up some since then though! See the knot-hole in that beech way over yonder? Waal, I’m going to put a bullet in the middle of it.”
Taking aim, the stranger fired. “Ye’ll find the bullet squar’ in the center,” he said, in a boastful way.
“Shucks!” exclaimed John, who was often too outspoken for his own good. He raised his rifle and fired. “There’s another bullet right beside your own, mister,” he said.
“Well I swan! So there is!” called out the woodsman in great surprise. “But I’ll bet a coon-skin my tother kitten can’t do the like.”
Like a flash Ree’s rifle flew to his shoulder and he seemed to take no aim whatever; yet the bullet flew true. But just an instant after he fired the crack of another rifle sounded behind him. A leaden ball shrieked close to his head and a lock of his hair fell fluttering to the ground.