CHAPTER X.A Night With the Indians.
To shut out from his thoughts the horrid memory of the bloody scalp at Big Buffalo’s belt, Ree turned and busied himself with the fire, which had burned quite low, and soon a roaring blaze was leaping skyward, shedding good cheer around.
The woodsman still stood leaning on his rifle, a look of sadness on his face such as was seldom seen there. If John had noticed this he might not have asked in the tone in which he did:
“Well, whose scalp is it?”
“It ain’t your’n, kitten, an’ ye can be glad o’ that.”
“Shucks! How can you tell whose it might have been? How could anybody tell?” asked the boy.
Tom made no reply, and Ree deftly changed the subject by saying that one of them had better stand guard that night. He expected no trouble with the Indians, but he was not willing to becaught napping by the unknown foe whose work had now cost the life of their horse.
Tom was gloomy all the evening as they sat before the fire, but he told the boys of the great chief of the Delaware’s, Hopocon, or Capt. Pipe, and reminded them that he was one of the Indians who were responsible for the burning of Col. Crawford at the stake eight years earlier.
That and other stories of this noted chief made the boys curious to see him, and anxious to put themselves on friendly terms with him. It was decided that the next day they should visit the Delaware town and make arrangements for securing land. Without a horse they could move their goods only with great labor, and they were desirous of knowing just where they were taking their property, therefore, before they undertook to move it from their present camp.
“Guess I will stay an’ watch here, whilst you youngsters go to see Capt. Pipe,” said Tom, as the subject was under discussion. “I might not be as peaceful as a little lamb—plague take their greasy skins! Not if I clapped my eyes on that Buffalo critter ag’in!”
“Look a-here, Tom,” Ree answered, earnestly. “We boys are on a peaceable mission andwe don’t want to get into trouble on your account. We know that the horrible sight of that scalp, and your belief that you know from where it came, has made you want revenge, but John and I have had no special trouble with the Delawares and it would be very foolish, situated as we are, for you or any of us to start a fight with them now.”
“I see all that—I ain’t so blind! But—” Tom did not finish the sentence. Instead he began talking of other things and advised the boys to take every precaution against being treacherously dealt with when they should find Big Buffalo at his own home—the Delaware town.
It was a windy, cloudy morning that found Ree and John tramping through the valleys and over the hills of a fine, thickly wooded country toward the Indian village. Early in the afternoon they came to a sloping hillside beyond which lay a swampy tract grown up to brush and rushes. Close by was a beautiful little lake and at the opposite side the smoke was rising from the town of the Delaware tribe of Indians.
As the boys approached the water, planning to walk around the lake, they were discovered by three Indians in a canoe, which seemed almostto spring out of the water, so quickly did it appear from around a bushy point. The savages headed directly toward the boys, without a sound.
The lads laid down their rifles as a sign of friendliness, and in another minute a swift stroke of a paddle grounded the Indians’ craft upon the beach. The Redskins bounded ashore and with some reluctance shook hands with the boys.
Without loss of time Ree gave them to understand that he wished them to inform their chief, Hopocon, or Capt. Pipe, that two young Palefaces were waiting to call on him, and tell of their friendly wish to buy some land of the Delawares, and that they would remain where they were while he should send a canoe to carry them over.
None of the three Indians had been in the party of the previous day, but they seemed readily to comprehend what was desired of them and turned to go.
One of the Redskins, quite a young fellow, lingered behind. After the other two had taken their places in the canoe he pushed it out into deep water, then he made a running jump to leap, aboard. He might have done so very nicely, hadhe not slipped just as he jumped. As it was, he went sprawling in the water most ridiculously.
The other Indians grunted derisively. John laughed heartily and Ree smiled, amused to see the proud young buck get just such a ducking as he deserved for trying to “show off.”
However, the lithe young fellow seized the canoe and was safely in it in a very brief space of time. Soon it was far out on the lake, rocking and dancing lightly as a feather on the fierce little waves, which a strong wind was blowing up.
Ree and John made themselves comfortable on the grassy bank beside the water, and waited. It seemed a long time until they saw a canoe coming for them. The fact was, and the boys shrewdly surmised it, that Capt. Pipe, or Hopocon, desirous of impressing the strangers with his greatness, purposely kept them waiting awhile.
The canoe sent for the boys was manned by two of the Indians they first met, and the lads were taken aboard. Although frail in appearance, the light little craft was capable of carrying seven or eight persons. It was made of the bark of a bitter-nut hickory, and was the first of the kind in which the Connecticut lads had everridden. They quickly found that they must aid in keeping the canoe balanced to prevent its upsetting, and their efforts to do this, before they caught the knack of it, rather amused the Indians.
In a short time, however, the canoe touched shore before the Indian town and the Paleface visitors were conducted at once to the council house. This was a long low building, its lower part being built of logs but its sides and roof being of bark. It was open at one end, and at the other end skins were hung up to shut out the wind. In the center of the rude structure, whose floor was only the hard-trodden earth, was a fire, the smoke escaping through a large hole in the roof.
All these things were observed by the boys in time, but first to attract their notice as they entered, were the Indians, especially one of great size—elderly and very dignified, seated on a bear skin spread over a mat of bark. He shook hands with each as they stepped up, saying only “How.”
Ree answered in the same fashion but John was so flustrated that he stammered: “How do you do, sir?” in a manner which bored him agreat deal, as Ree jokingly recalled the circumstance long afterward.
But Capt. Pipe knew from the lad’s tone that he spoke respectfully and it pleased him. Other Indians seemed to feel the same, and the several minor chiefs and medicine men who were present, shook hands with the boys with a great show of dignity and formality. Then the young traders stated the object of their visit and were shown to a seat opposite Capt Pipe and pipes were brought out. They all smoked, the boys soon discovering that it was not tobacco but “kinnikinick”—the inner bark of young willow sprouts dried and pulverized—which was in the pipes.
Presently the great chief laid aside his pipe, a long-stemmed affair with a curiously carved clay bowl, and all others immediately followed his example. In another minute the speech-making began.
Capt. Pipe’s was the first address, a brief preliminary statement. He made a most imposing appearance as he stood very erect, his arms folded, his head-dress of feathers reaching half way to the ground behind him, the fringes of his shirt-like coat rustled by the movements of his body, as he talked. Others followed, but the boysunderstood very little of what was said. As Big Buffalo arose, however, there was a scowl on his face which was far from pleasant. His gestures indicated hostility and the Paleface lads knew that at heart he hated them. They wished Fishing Bird were present to say a friendly word.
Capt. Pipe, himself, spoke a second time a little later, however, and very earnestly Ree and John studied his grave and stern, but not unkind, face, to learn how he felt toward them. They could scarcely believe that he was the savage, who, only a few years before, had been a leading spirit in the torture of Colonel Crawford.
Occasionally the chief used a few English words and the boys gathered from the general trend of his remarks that they would be welcome if they came only as traders; but that settlers were not welcome, and the Indians wished no one to come among them who would clear land or do anything which might lead to the establishing of a settlement of the whites in their country. A reasonable number of hunters and traders might come and go unmolested but there must be no building of permanent cabins; there must be no different life than that led by the children of the forest—the Indians themselves.
A long silence followed this address, and then Ree arose to speak. His heart beat fast, and John trembled inwardly as his friend began. But nervous as he was, there was no weakness in Ree’s tones. He spoke slowly and distinctly, using every sign which could be expressed by look or gesture to make his meaning clear; and looking the Indians squarely in the eyes they did not fail to understand as the boy thus told them in his own way, that he and his friends hoped to live at peace with them; that there was but a very small party of them, himself and one other, besides a woodsman who was temporarily with them, and that they had journeyed to that beautiful country of the Delawares to hunt and trade and make themselves a home.
They had not been taught to live as the Indians lived, he said, and they could not have a home without some cleared land about it for the crops which they would need. For this land, Ree went on, they were willing to pay a fair price, and they were desirous of selecting a location that they might get their cabin built. The spot they had chosen was where the course of the river had changed at some time, years before, leaving a little clearing.
As Ree finished speaking he stepped up and laid his presents—two small mirrors and a handsome hunting knife—before Capt. Pipe. John followed his example in this, and there were grunts of approval from all the Indians except Big Buffalo, as the boys sat down.
More speech-making followed, however, taking so much time that John whispered: “If they don’t stop soon, or ask us to stay all night, we will have to climb a tree, somewhere.”
At last a decision was reached that the boys were to have a piece of land including the clearing to which Ree had referred, and as much of the river valley and adjacent hillsides as they reasonably needed, in exchange for articles to be selected from their stock of goods.
By close attention Ree had been able to understand the matter fairly well, but as the talk of the Indians had seemed so monotonous, John had let his thoughts run to other subjects. He had been wondering what had become of the scalp they had seen at Big Buffalo’s belt the day before, and whether Tom Fish really knew the person whose death it signified; and if so, who that person might be. He did not know then, all that he came to know afterward.
With hand-shaking all around the council was concluded, and Capt. Pipe conducted the boys to the feast which the squaws had been preparing. There was broiled venison (without salt) and a sort of soup containing broken corn and beans cooked together in a large kettle.
Nearly all of the Indians who had been in the council partook of these dainties and many others did likewise. Ree and John ate heartily though they did not exactly relish the lack of cleanliness displayed by the savages in their manner of cooking, and in their eating.
The squaws and Indian boys and girls, and many a young brave for that matter, watched the young Palefaces curiously, and their eyes followed the lads closely as Capt. Pipe led them away to his own bark cabin. It was then that John first saw Gentle Maiden, Capt. Pipe’s daughter. She was truly handsome for one of her race, but she stepped behind a screen of skins and was gone before Ree had even noticed her.
The chief of the Delawares told the boys to make themselves comfortable, and a squaw, who seemed to be his wife, spread skins for them to sit upon or lie upon, as they chose. Capt. Pipe then gave his guests to understand that theymight come and go as they chose and remain with him as long as they wished. He then withdrew and presently the boys did go for a stroll about the queer town of the Indians. Fortunately they met Fishing Bird and he walked all about with them then, leading the way to a fire before which a game like dice was being played.
The seeds of wild plums, colored black on one side and scraped white on the other, were shaken up in a box made of bark and thrown out upon a smooth spot on the ground. The Indians endeavored to throw as many as possible of the seeds with the white sides up, and he who did the best at this, won the game. It seemed very dull amusement to John, but Ree watched the game with much interest, until Fishing Bird beckoned him away. And then something took place which made Ree quite certain that this was the Indian whom he might have killed as they struggled alone in the forest solitude only the second night previous.
It was a wrestling match which Fishing Bird proposed, and he called to a strapping young savage and challenged him to undertake to put Ree down. The brave smiled and stepped up willingly. Ree would have preferred thatsuch a contest had not been suggested, but as the young Indian looked at him in a way which seemed to say, “It will not take me long to put you on your back,” he decided to throw the proud young redskin if he could.
With many manifestations of delight the Indians gathered around, as they quickly learned what was taking place; for there was nothing in which the forest rovers had a greater delight than trials of strength and endurance.
Ree stipulated but one thing, as he threw off his coat and made ready, this was that the wrestling should be “catch-as-catch-can.”
Ready assent was given, a space was cleared and an Indian clapped his hands as a signal for the contest to begin. Like a panther the young brave sprang toward his sturdy white opponent to catch him “Indian hold.” But he reckoned without knowledge of his man. Ree had not forgotten the teachings of Peter Piper, and so cleverly did he dodge, and so quickly seize the Indian about the legs, that in a twinkling the proud buck was stretched upon the earth.
There were expressions of wonderment from the Indians, but in a second the vanquished redskin was on his feet, anxious for another trial.
John, with utter disregard of good manners, was laughing heartily over his friend’s success, and as Ree declined to wrestle any more, the Indian turned to him, and somewhat fiercely demanded that he should try conclusions with him.
John glanced at Ree and the latter nodded for him to go ahead. In another minute then, a match, the closeness and desperation of which delighted the savages beyond measure, was in progress.
Tightly clasping each other’s arms, the contestants strained every muscle and struggled back and forth and round and round—now slowly, now with movements most rapid, neither gaining an advantage. Longer and longer the contest continued in this way, and Ree saw that John was becoming worn out. He must act quickly or succumb to the Indian’s greater weight and power of endurance.
“You can throw him if you only say to yourself that you must and that you will, and then do it,” Ree whispered, as John was pushed near him, and his advice was taken.
With a show of strength which surprised them all, John forced his opponent backward, and tried again to trip the fellow, but could not.Then he allowed the savage to try to trip him, and seizing the opportunity, gave the redskin so sudden and violent a pull that he was taken off his feet and fell heavily, dragging John down with him. Both the Indian’s shoulders touched the ground, however, and with savage glee the redskins acknowledged John to be the victor. To do them justice, they seemed not at all put out that their man was defeated. Only one who was present scowled. He was Big Buffalo, and with an ugly look he strode away from the campfire’s light.
Ree could not help but notice the savage fellow’s hostile manner. “We better watch out for him,” he said to John as they discussed the incident sometime later, when they had sought rest for the night on the skins in Capt. Pipe’s house.
“It makes me feel—well, not exactly comfortable, Ree,” John answered. “Here we are a hundred miles from civilization sleeping in the hut of one of the bloodiest Indians of the Northwest Territory; Indians all around us, and Goodness knows what else in the woods, on every side!”
“Why, John,” said Ree, “I believe we are safer to-night than at any time since we left FortPitt. Capt. Pipe may be a bad Indian, but he would fight for us, if need be, while we are his guests. He might scalp us to-morrow after we have said good-bye, but when we are in his house as friends, we will be protected.”
CHAPTER XI.Again a Hidden Enemy.
The boys were early astir the following morning. As soon as they were up Capt. Pipe’s wife placed a dish of boiled corn, like hominy, before them, and this was their breakfast. A little later, telling Capt. Pipe of the great amount of work they had to do, the lads bade him good-bye, the chief giving them each a pouch of parched corn, and sending an Indian to take them in a canoe across the lake.
It was two hours past noon when Tom Fish suddenly started up from the broiled turkey with which he was regaling himself, as he heard some one approach, and discovered Ree and John returning. He greeted them gladly, but not in his usual hilarious fashion, and they could not but notice how unlike himself he was as he carved for them some juicy slices from the fine young gobbler he had cooked. Yet he listened with interest to Ree’s account of their trip, John often breaking in with such jolly comment as: “Youshould have heard those Indians talk! Why they beat a quilting bee for gabbling, except that they didn’t all talk at once.”
“But they are real orators,” added Ree quite soberly. “I’ve heard that an Indian has three ambitions—to be a mighty hunter, a great warrior and a grand orator; and there are some splendid speakers among the Delawares.”
“The’s some red-handed, bloody murderers among ’em, too, I kin tell ye,” Tom Fish growled. “I got no rest whilst ye was gone, a thinkin’ of it.”
“Has anything happened, Tom?” asked Ree, struck by his friends grave manner.
“Cheer up, Thomas, cheer up!” cried John. “You’ve been about as cheerful company as a box of indigo ever since you saw that—that hideous thing at Big Buffalo’s belt.”
“Well, it’s a wonder the’ didn’t nothing happen, an’ somethin’s goin’ to happen, I know,” the hunter replied to Ree’s question, ignoring John’s bantering, as he often did. “That Buffalo varmint means harm. I’ve been thinkin’ it all over an’ the’ ain’t no two ways about it. If I ain’t a sight mistaken, I seen him peekin’ down from the hill back there, not a half hourago—either him or some dirty Mingo; I didn’t exactly see him, but I heard some one, an’ I’d a’ peppered away at him if you kittens hadn’ ’a been gone an’ me not knowin’ just where ye might be. So I’ve been thinkin’ it all over, an’ mighty sorry I am I ever piloted ye into this hostyle kentry. The’s only one thing to do, an’ that’s to take what stuff ye kin an’ get back to Pittsburg fast as yer legs kin take ye. Now as fer me, I kin take care of myself, but I’ll see ye part way anyhow, an’ I’d go clear back with ye if I didn’t have somethin’ very important to ’tend to.”
Ree could not help but smile at Tom’s drooping spirits, though the discouraging talk made it necessary for him to appear really more cheerful than he felt, as he realized that Big Buffalo really seemed anxious to cause trouble. But he shook his head at John, as he saw the latter about to scold Tom for bringing them into this part of the wilderness only to advise them to leave it; for his chum’s face showed that he was not pleased with Tom’s manner.
“There is just one thing to be done,” Ree exclaimed.
“An’ that’s get right back—” Tom Fish was saying.
But the youthful leader of the party interrupted: “Go back? No, sir! The one thing to do is to go forward, and take our goods with us without further loss of time. We will get a good, stout cabin up and then we’ll be better prepared for trouble if it comes. And that prowler, you heard, Tom, must have been the same cowardly wretch who shot old Jerry. We must watch for him. We cannot be too careful, but if he is the same fellow who fired on us and nearly killed Black Eagle’s son, ’way back on the Pennsylvania border, I think I can guess who it is, and I can tell you, he is a coward. But let’s get to work.”
“I like yer spunk, lad, an’ I like you, but what I want to say is, that Tom Trout as some calls Fish, will stick by ye till ye get some sort of a shack throwed up, anyhow.”
“Bully for you, Tom! And bully for you, too, Ree,” exclaimed John springing up to begin whatever task awaited him. “I was beginning to get away down in the mouth, the way Tom was talking a minute ago.”
“We must take the goods out of the cart and pack them in convenient shape for carrying,” Ree directed, without further ado. “By dragginga few things forward a hundred rods or so, then coming back for more and so on, we should reach the river in a couple of days.”
And so all fell to work with a will. The cart did not contain a heavy load, as it would have been impossible for old Jerry to have hauled it through the woods, up hills, across streams and boggy places. But when it came to carrying forward everything except the cart, which must be abandoned, without the aid of a horse, the task was found to be a most laborious one.
The unpacking and rearranging consumed so much time that darkness had come on before the last bundle of the merchandise and provisions had been carried forward to the first stopping place, a little way beyond the top of the bluff, in the valley below which the camp had been.
While John and Tom erected a shelter for the night, for the wind was cold and raw, Ree returned to the valley to procure coals with which to start a fire at the new camp. He found it necessary to enliven the dying embers with a few fresh sticks of wood, and as he stooped over to blow greater life into the struggling blaze which started up, he heard a rustling in the leaves on the hill behind him, in the direction opposite thatin which his friends were. Like a flash he sprang away from the fire into the half-darkness which filled the valley. He was in the nick of time. A rifle cracked and a bullet threw up the ashes and sent the sparks flying where his head had been just a second before.
With the speed of the wind Ree ran in the direction from which the shot had come, his own rifle cocked and ready. He thought he heard some one making off in the darkness as he reached the top of the hill, but whether white man or Indian—Delaware or Mingo, he could not tell. He called out a command to halt, but no attention was given his order for the uncertain sound of fleeing footsteps continued. He chanced a shot in the direction of the unknown enemy, although he realized it would probably do no good.
While he reloaded his rifle Ree stepped behind a tree, and a few seconds later John came running up. As it was too dark to continue the chase, both boys returned to camp, stopping in the ravine to secure a fire brand to start a blaze to prepare their supper. In vain did John ask questions as to whom Ree believed the would-be murderer was; they could not be answered, for, as Ree said, he had not seen the person.
Tom Fish, disconsolate as he well could be, sat on a big bundle of merchandise as the boys rejoined him.
“It’s sure death to stay here, lads,” were the first words he said, and his tone was not calculated to make the young travelers comfortable; but resolving to look on the brighter side, Ree cheerily answered:
“A man is in some danger wherever he is. We will all feel better when we smell some venison on the hot coals. And just wait till we get our cabin built! We are going to get some beans and late squashes from the Indians, and bake some corn bread, and have a regular old-fashioned Connecticut supper!”
“Did ye hit him, d’ye think, Ree?” asked Tom, brightening up.
“No, but he scared him into eleven kinds of fits,” John answered for his friend, catching the spirit of the latter’s courage and enthusiasm.
“It ain’t that I am caring for myself. Tom Fish, or Tom Trout didn’t ever lose a wink o’ sleep bein’ afraid he couldn’t look out for number one,” the woodsman went on. “But after—after that—thing we saw the other day—but Iguess we’ve got our appetites left,” he said, suddenly changing the subject.
It was not long until the supper was ready and eaten and all did feel much the better for it, as Ree had predicted. The ordinary noises of the forest, the howling of wolves, in pursuit of some poor deer, perhaps, the far-away shriek of a panther balked of its prey, it may have been, gave them little concern. Though the darkness was intense and enemies might draw very near without being observed, the boys believed they had made peace with the Indians and the presence of four-footed enemies did not worry them.
Tom Fish felt very differently about the matter of the Indians’ friendship, but he kept these thoughts to himself for the time being, and though there are far more comfortable places than a camp in a great wilderness on a cold November night, the lads from Connecticut would have been entirely happy had it not been for the mystery of the strange prowler, the thought that several times they had been secretly fired upon, and that there was no knowing when another attack might be made in which the aim of the dastardly assailant need be but a trifle better to end the life of one or both of them, perhaps.
Yet, even these gloomy facts could not dispel the good spirits which accompany good health and the hopefulness of youth. Even Tom seemed to forget his dark forebodings as he was persuaded to tell a number of stories of his own adventures. Quite comfortable, therefore, though on the alert to catch the first sound of danger’s coming, the little party sat for an hour or two beneath the rude shelter which had been erected, while the firelight performed its fantastic feats around them.
Tom volunteered to remain on guard the first part of the night, and crept out at the back of their little house of poles and brush, that he might not be observed, should anyone be watching. Then, softly through the darkness he made his way to a convenient tree against which he leaned, in the dark shadows. Ree and John, wrapped in their blankets on their beds of deerskins spread over the autumn leaves, were soon asleep.
A heavy snow was sifting through the swaying branches of the trees when Tom called Ree and the latter went on watch. This change in the weather gave the quick-witted sentinel an idea. With the first streak of dawn he called John toprepare breakfast, then hurried back to the valley where their cart had been left, taking care to observe that there were no tracks of any human creature along the way. From the box of the abandoned two-wheeled wagon he secured two good sized boards and carried them to camp.
John watched in open-mouthed astonishment as he saw Ree coming up with the lumber, but in a minute or two he discovered what his friend designed to do. With no other tools than an axe and auger he soon built a sled large and strong enough to carry all their goods.
Ree’s idea proved an excellent one. The snow-fall was just enough to make a sled run smoothly, and by a little after sunrise “all the property of Kingdom and Jerome, Indian traders and home-seekers,” as John expressed it, was piled upon the pair of runners which the senior member of the firm had contrived, and they and Tom Fish were steadily drawing it toward their long-sought destination.
“We must reach the Cuyahoga river by night,” Ree urged, and his own determination gave strength to himself and his companions. Up hill and down hill they hurried, tugging, perspiring,making the best speed possible through the silent forest.
And as the sun burst through a sea of gray-black clouds, and shone brilliantly just before night’s coming, it seemed an omen of good to the little party in the wilderness, for at almost the same moment, Ree, running on a head a little way, cried: “Here we are!”
Before the daylight closed, the site of the cabin, work on which was to begin the next day, had been selected on the long irregular mound close to the river, which has already been described.
Ree called attention to the natural advantages of the place—its sides sloping down in three directions while on the fourth side and thirty feet below was the river. It was a point which could be defended in case of an attack, and the additional fact of the natural clearing and fertile lands surrounding it, made the place seem most desirable.
“The’s only one thing the matter with this location,” said Tom Fish, surveying the mound from the semi-circular valley around it, as the twilight settled down. “The’s likely to be ague in a place like this, it bein’ so nigh the water.It’s a mighty good thing to steer clear of, ague is.”
“But there are so many natural advantages,” Ree persisted, “and our cabin will be well up in the air and the sunlight.”
“That’s a good point, Ree,” John put in, “but think of it—we will have to carry all our firewood up that hill.”
“I’ll carry the wood if you play out, old chap,” was the answer and the matter ended by Ree having his own way, as was generally the case, not because he was selfish or obstinate, but because he was sure he was right before he made up his mind, and because he had that born spirit of leadership which gave himself and all others confidence in his decisions and actions.
Although careful observation during the day had failed to reveal any sign of their prowling foe, whoever he might be, Ree and John agreed to divide the guard duty of the night between them. Ree took the first watch and reported all quiet when John relieved him at midnight.
When daylight came John went a little way up the wooded hillside opposite the mound to pick up some dry wood for their fire. Suddenly he stopped and a startled look came upon hisface. There in the snow were foot-prints made by moccasined feet. They followed the trail the sled had made the day before, up to the very edge of the clearing in which their camp was made.
There, John found, as he guardedly investigated, they circled off to one side a little way, hovered about, here and there, then re-crossed the sled’s track and disappeared in the woods. What could it mean? Instantly he remembered that the foot-prints of the person who had several times fired upon their camp, had been made by boots. He hurried to the camp mentally ejaculating: “What will Tom Fish say of this?”
Tom was still asleep, but Ree had commenced the breakfast. “It is too bad,” he said, thinking aloud, as he learned of John’s discovery. “I suppose we ought to follow those tracks if only for safety’s sake, and find out who made them, but I do hate to lose the time when we ought to be getting a cabin built.”
The discovery was pointed out to Tom when he awoke a little later.
“A prowlin’ Mingo!” the old hunter exclaimed as he inspected the foot-prints. “Kittens both, the’s trouble brewin’. It’s a wonder the varmint didn’t shoot. I don’t see what he’sup to, always doggin’ us this way! But I’ll tell ye what I’ll do. You lads get yer axes an’ go to work, an’ I’ll foller up them tracks. An’ bust my galluses, kittens both, I’ll give the varmint a dose as’ll make him think of his pore ol’ granddad, if I ketch him!”
Tom’s suggestion found favor at once, though the boys could not explain the varying moods of their friend, which made him cool and courageous one day and dejected and fearful another. But breakfast being over, Tom set out.
“Be careful,” Ree called after him. “Don’t get yourself or us into any row with the Delawares, unnecessarily.” The hunter made no answer.
CHAPTER XII.Building a Cabin.
By reason of having been the first to see the strange foot-prints, and having come upon them, too, in the gray light of the early morning, when alone in the forest solitudes, John found it hard to shake off the dread with which they filled him. On the other hand, Ree was bright and chipper as a squirrel in the nutting season. He reasoned that the discovery of the tracks was fortunate, rather than otherwise, for it proved that their mysterious enemy was still hovering on their trail and gave them an opportunity of finding out who the wretch might be. And they now knew that they must be constantly on their guard, while except for the discovery, they might have become careless and fallen easy victims to their sneaking foe.
So he cheered John up, and loud and clear the sounds of their axes rang out in the crisp, delightful air of the woods. Both boys threw off their coats as the healthful perspiration came totheir faces and hands, and their vigor and strength seemed to grow rather than decrease as they worked. They had been careful to keep their axes sharp, and the chips flew almost in showers.
The trees selected for cutting were those from five to eight inches in diameter, whose trunks were firm and straight. The lads would be able to handle logs of this size, while larger ones would give them trouble, especially as they no longer had a horse to draw them to the cabin site. The work would be hard at best, but no more than the boys had expected, and the hearty good will with which they set about the task before them, promised its speedy accomplishment in spite of obstacles.
For mutual safety the boys remained near one another as they worked, and timber was so plentiful that their progress was not interfered with by this arrangement. Their rifles were within reach, and their eyes and ears were alert.
The hour of noon brought a brief but pleasant rest, and the afternoon slipped quickly away. As supper time drew near, John, having had only a cold lunch at noon, was becoming very hungry and was about to mention that fact, when, instead,he suddenly seized his rifle and sprang behind a tree. At the same instant Ree did likewise.
“As sure as shooting I heard some one cough!” exclaimed John in an undertone.
“I heard a footstep,” Ree quietly answered.
“Ho ho!” It was Tom Fish who called, and coming forward, he confessed that he had been trying the boys’ watchfulness by trying to steal up to them without being discovered. He was decidedly surprised to find them so quick to detect his approach, for he had scarcely come within gun shot.
Tom declared to John, however, that he had not coughed, saying it must have been John’s alert instinct which told him that some one was drawing near, and made him imagine he heard such a sound. The boys did not agree with him, however, for he also undertook to say that Ree had not heard a footstep at all, but being keenly alive to detect the approach of anyone, had imagined he heard a noise before he really did, all through that peculiar sense which he called instinct.
“But anyway it’s a good thing for you, Tom Fish, that you hollered when you did,” saidJohn. “I was just on the point of giving you a dose of these lead pills that you are so everlastingly talking about!”
Tom’s face lengthened. “You don’t want to be too quick with your pill box, boy,” said he. “You want to see what an’ who you’re shootin’ at. Great Snakes, now! What if ye had peppered away at me?”
“Well, don’t come creeping up like a sneaking Mingo then,” laughed John, and Ree, who knew that John had not seen Tom until after he called, and had been really frightened, joined in his chum’s merriment.
“But tell us what you found, Tom,” urged Ree.
“Well, I’ll tell ye,” Tom slowly and very soberly answered, “I don’t know what to make of it. Them tracks was made by a redskin an’ they came straight to the camp along the trail we made yesterday. Then after leaving here, they strike off an’ go straight to the little lake across from the Delaware town, an’ there they stop. It’s plain as kin be, that some varmint from that there town has been spyin’ on us. Now was it the same critter as killed the horse, or wa‘n’t it? An’ if it was, was that critter the Buffalo chap?An’ what was he hangin’ ’round here ag’in for last night?”
These questions furnished an abundance of material for conversation during the evening meal, but no definite answers were agreed upon. Ree would not admit that they were in danger from the Delawares, though he agreed that Big Buffalo was a bad Indian. He was quite sure, however, that Big Buffalo had not shot old Jerry, for the Indian was at the head of the party of savages he had encountered the morning after the horse was shot, and had plainly been surprised to see any white person so far west.
But these arguments did not satisfy Tom Fish, nor was John at all sure that Ree was right.
After supper Tom said he must go back for a deer which he had killed in the morning, a couple of miles from camp, and which he had hung up beyond the reach of the wolves, until his return. But he had made a short cut in coming back to camp and so had not secured the venison.
John jokingly cautioned him to let them know when he approached the camp in returning, lest he be mistaken for the prowler, and Tom most soberly promised he would, and was at great pains to do so; for he was always at a lossto understand the younger of the two friends, and could not be sure whether he was in sober earnest or only joking, no matter what was said.
The night passed without incident. Tom did more than his share of guard duty, but it became apparent next day that he did not like to wield an axe. He said he would go out for some fresh “provender” and “sort o’ earn his keep” that way.
So while Fish went hunting, the boys toiled away. They could not complain because Tom helped so little with the cabin, for they had no right to expect it of him; they were thankful indeed, to have him keep the larder well supplied and to let him sleep during the day, for he took the part of sentinel a large part of every night. This gave the boys opportunity to secure a good rest and to rise each morning eager to continue the task of building.
Their faithful efforts were rapidly being rewarded and in due time the logs for the cabin were all ready. These were chopped into lengths with a view to making their dwelling 12 by 14 feet—no longer than the average bedroom of modern houses, but affording all the space necessary,and being the easier to keep warm by reason of being compact.
No time was spent on “fancy work,” as John called it, at that time. A floor and other improvements could be added later. For the main thing to be accomplished was to get a secure shelter ready as soon as possible.
The Indian summer was long since gone, and though there were still warm, pleasant days now and then, cold rains and snow came frequently. No matter what the weather, however, the work went on, though hands and faces were cut and scratched by the brush and chapped by the raw winds.
“Ree, you are a perfect fright,” said John with a laugh, one day. “If people from home were to see you now, they would say you would be lucky to find a scare-crow which would trade places with you. And your hair—why, it almost reaches your shoulders!”
Ree smiled but did not at once reply. Then, looking up, he said: “Old boy, we are going back to Connecticut some day, but the time is a long way off. If we go with whole skins and with money in our pockets, it will be an easy matter to get into good clothes and to get our hair cut.What you want to do, is to watch out that some Indian barber does not cut that long hair of yours, rather closer than you like.”
It was so seldom that Ree joked, and he spoke now in so droll a way, that Tom Fish laughed boisterously. It had been long since the boys had heard him so merry; for, though he never mentioned that subject, the remembrance of the scalp Big Buffalo had carried, seemed always on his spirits, bearing him down to a melancholy, unnatural mood.
They did not understand it then; they did not know.
When the time came to raise the cabin—that is, to fit the logs in place one upon another, after they had been dragged and rolled to the summit of the mound, to be in readiness, Tom’s help was found most valuable, and both Ree and John appreciated his work. But notwithstanding, they would have been better pleased had he not remained with them. He had shown so much ill-feeling toward the Indians who had come about from time to time, that there was reason to believe he would commit some rash act which would make trouble for all.
They could not tell Tom they did not trusthim. They could not tell him to go. Ree’s repeated cautions that they must avoid getting into difficulty with the redskins, were the only hints that could be given.
Capt. Pipe himself and a large number of his braves visited the camp when the cabin was nearly finished, to make the settlement for the land the boys had engaged to buy. The young pioneers had twice sent word to him by Indians who were passing, that they wished to make their payment and enter into a final agreement, and he had at last sent messengers to say that he would visit them on a certain day. On the day before Capt. Pipe’s expected visit Ree and John went hunting to secure an abundance of meat for a feast for their guests. It was the first day they had spent away from the hard work on their cabin, except for Sundays when they bathed and gave their clothes needed attention, and no two boys ever enjoyed a holiday more. There was some snow—not enough to make walking difficult, but really an advantage to the young hunters, for it showed them the numerous tracks of the game they sought.
To this day, men, who have heard the stories handed down from generation to generation, ofthe hunters’ paradise in what is now the Northern part of Ohio, in the years before 1800, delight to tell of the abundance of choicest game found in the valley of the Cuyahoga and about the small lakes in its vicinity, and Ree and John were in that very locality years before the white man’s axe had opened up the country to general settlement, driving the deer, the bear and wolves and all kindred animals away.
Little wonder is it that these hardy pioneer boys were constantly reminding themselves that they must pass by many fine opportunities for a good shot, because of the necessity of saving their powder and bullets for actual use; there must be no shooting except when there was a good chance of securing game of some value.
Little wonder is it, that, even under these circumstances, Ree, by the middle of the afternoon, had secured a deer and three turkeys besides a big rabbit which he caught in his hands as it sprang from its burrow beneath a fallen tree-top. And John had also shot a deer and had killed their first bear—a half-grown cub which, late in finding quarters for its long winter’s sleep, rose on its hind legs, growling savagely, asthe boys came suddenly upon it, in passing around a great boulder in the river valley.
In good time on a certain Tuesday in December, Capt. Pipe and his party arrived. Some of the braves were inclined to be very frolicsome and it was necessary to watch that they did not get their hands on property which was not their own.
But their chief was all dignity. He seemed to take a fancy to Ree, who was scarcely less dignified than himself,—being so grave and quiet in his deportment, indeed, that a doughty warrior who had made up his mind to challenge him to wrestle, had not the courage to suggest the contest.
The business of the day sat lightly on John’s mind, however, and he was full of antics as any of the redskins. It resulted in his being challenged to wrestle, and he was laid on his back in short order. Then he remembered Ree’s advice at the time he wrestled at the Delaware town, and making use of it, threw his man after a most clever and spirited contest.
But the great feature of the day, in John’s estimation, was the foot race in which he defeated a young Indian known to be one of the best runnersof the tribe, winning a beautiful pair of leggings which Big Buffalo put up in a wager. It was a short-distance race and he realized that in a longer run the Indian would have defeated him; it made him decide to practice running long distances. He might wish to outrun the redskins to save his scalp, some day.
Tom Fish sat silent and alone, a little apart from all the others, during the whole time. He eyed Big Buffalo sharply when no one save Ree observed him, but the gruesome scalp no longer hung at the Indian’s belt.
Fishing Bird was there and seemed especially friendly, though, not being a sub-chief, as was Big Buffalo, he did not pretend to any special dignity, but enjoyed himself in sports with the other young Indians and John.
When at last the Delawares settled down to business, there was a great deal of talk before an agreement was reached, that the boys should have a tract embracing about 200 acres, which the Indians marked off, in exchange for three red blankets and a bolt of blue cloth. It was a rather dear price, John thought, but Ree declared it was a bargain, for they secured just the land they wanted. Moreover, they retained the friendshipof the Indians, and even though they should be obliged to pay for the land a second time to the United States government or the State of Connecticut, they could well afford to do so, under these circumstances.
There was general hand-shaking as the Delawares went away, though Tom Fish discreetly disappeared for the time, vowing he would give his hand to “no bloody varmint.”
The Indians insisted that the young “Long Knives” (Ree and John) should return their visit the second day following, for a ratification of the bargain they had made. This the boys regretted, as it would probably delay the completion of their cabin; but they were obliged to accept the invitation, and did so.
The next day, Wednesday, however, work on their rude dwelling was resumed, and Tom Fish turned in and helped like a good fellow. A fire-place and chimney had already been built of flat stones from along the margin of the river, and this day, so industriously did all apply themselves, that the roof and door were finished and the cabin practically completed except for the improvements to be added from time to time.
Words can hardly express the boys’ pleasureas they built a fire for the first time in the big fire-place and found that their chimney did its work admirably. Without loss of time they at once moved into their new house from the brush shack in which their home had been; and by the cheerful fire light, as the night came on, they placed their things in as orderly a manner as possible, and found themselves quite comfortable, though much remained to be done, the chinking of the walls being the chief task unfinished.
Notwithstanding how the wind crept in at the open cracks until this work should be done, the boys were happy as they cooked and ate their supper in their new home. The ripple and murmur of the river as it splashed on the shore or washed over half-hidden stones, rose to them from the foot of the mound, and was like sweet music in their ears. The wind gently tossed the branches of the trees in harmony with the water’s sound, and the howling of wolves far off somewhere in the darkness, made the feeling of security which the stout cabin walls gave all the more pleasing. Their prowling foe had not been about since the first night of their arrival, and they felt entirely safe.
“I guess I’ll turn in, then,” said John, aftertrying in vain to brighten up Tom Fish and get him to telling stories; and he was soon asleep on the bed of leaves he had made in a corner.
Ree, having had no chance to read since leaving home, resolved to improve this opportunity. He got his “Pilgrim’s Progress” from a chest, and settled himself before the fire.
All the evening Tom had sat in silence beside the big chimney, but soon he leaned over, and placing one big hand on Ree’s knee, said in a low voice:
“I’ve been wantin’ to tell ye somethin’, Ree; it’s about that thar scalp that has upset me so ever since I seen it.”