CHAPTER VII
THE FLINT-TIPPED ARROW ON THE ROOF
AS Bob Armstrong and his brother drew near the well-beloved cabinwhich had now been their home for almost an entire year, their heartsbeat high with anticipation of a reunion with their mother, father andsister.
The door stood partly open, as though, perhaps, Mr. Armstrong had justentered, to bear the latest news concerning the rising of the riverto his family circle. And, looking through the opening thus formed,the boys saw the three whom they loved standing by the table, on whichstill rested the dishes of the evening meal, as if the fond mother hadnot given up all hope that her sons might yet come in, tired and hungry.
They could see her face as she listened to what the good man of thehouse was saying. It could not have been cheerful news, either, for theconcern deepened on the countenances of Kate and her mother.
The boys could stand it no longer, but, bursting through the door,they were quickly in the arms of the mother for whom either of themwould have given his young life any day; nor did either Bob or Sandydeem it unmanly in the least because tears ran down their cheeks,induced by their great joy at once more being home.
Then came many questions; and, as the story was told, how those fondones hung upon every word! No doubt that brave little mother could see,just as vividly as though she had been there, her younger boy caught inhis own trap, with that fierce woods tiger creeping closer and closer.
And then, later, when between them the boys had described the accidentout on the river, whereby the breaking of the paddle was responsiblefor the collision with the great unwieldy log, and the loss of thedugout, she realized the peril her sons had been in, even though theystrove to make light of it.
Last of all came the news that Blue Jacket was trying to fetch tohis friends at the time he and Pat had so opportunely come upon thefloating log in the middle of the Ohio.
"Let us hope and pray that it may not be so bad as that," Mrs.Armstrong said; for, now that her boys had been restored to her,she felt that she could face almost any calamity with calmness. "TheIndians may have over-estimated the force of the water, and it will notrise higher than our doorstep, at most."
"It is not very far from that, even now," observed Bob, who had notedbefore entering the cabin how terribly near that flowing flood came totheir home, and that already it had covered the patch of ground wherehe and his brother were accustomed to work at odd times, when nothunting, or attending to their string of traps.
"We shall not dare sleep much to-night," declared Mr. Armstrong. "Yousee, my boys, we have been busy, and our few possessions are alreadydone up, ready to be carried to higher ground, if necessary--which wehope may not be the case."
Then came Pat O'Mara, always a welcome guest at the Armstrong cabin;for he had always shown himself one of their best friends.
"Sure, there be some av the settlers who make light av the direful newsBlue Jacket brings, becase, ye say, 'tis only an Injun that fetchesthe same," the trapper remarked, after he had greeted the rest of thefamily, and joined the circle. And then with the boys ate heartily ofthe food Mrs. Armstrong had placed before them.
"A strange thing happened since you left home," remarked the owner ofthe cabin, as he reached out, and, picking something up, laid it on theheavy table, scoured snowy white by the hands of the good housewife.
Sandy uttered a cry of astonishment.
"Why, look at that, will you?" he exclaimed. "It must be another ofthose strange warnings we have been getting for a long time past,though we can never understand who sends them, for I can see the samefigures marked here on the birch bark that we settled before meantthose rascally French trappers."
"Yes," said Bob, who was closely examining the little roll of thinbark, almost as light as a feather; "I am sure you are right aboutthat, Sandy; and these two creeping figures must be our enemies,Jacques and Henri, the brother of the dead Armand. But where did youget this, father?"
"Your mother and myself were talking here late in the afternoon, whenKate came and told us she had heard a strange sound from the directionof the roof, just as if some one had thrown a stone. I went out,expecting to find that those small boys of the new settler, SethSmalley, had been pelting each other again; but, when I looked, no onewas in sight. Then, chancing to cast my eyes upward toward the roof,what was my astonishment to see an arrow sticking there, to which wasattached that little roll of bark. So I climbed up, and possessedmyself of the whole. I do not much doubt but that this unknown friend,who has several times tried to warn us about those bad men, the Frenchtrappers, is again sending a message which is intended for you twoboys."
"What does he seem to say this time?" asked Sandy, as, with his brotherand the Irish trapper, he bent over the scroll which was being heldopen in the extended fingers of Bob.
"Here is a cabin, which must be meant for our own home," commenced Bob;"because, you see, it has a little flagstaff fastened to the top infront. Well, two creeping figures are coming toward the cabin. One ofthem holds something in his hand, which I can hardly make out, but itmay be a burning brand. Yes, it surely is, for here you can see smokecurling up from the side of the cabin."
"Well, the whole settlement shall know about it at once," declaredSandy, angrily; "and it will be a bad thing for Jacques Larue or HenriLacroix to be seen creeping up the rise. I do not believe we will everknow peace until something happens to those bad men. Little they carefor the sacred belt of Pontiac, and even the death of Armand Lacroixdoes not seem to have daunted them."
"I think you are wrong there," Bob went on, earnestly. "They havebeen afraid to do either of us bodily injury, because they know whatthe anger of Pontiac would mean to them. But they think they can findother ways to annoy us, and those we care for. To burn our cabin to theground seems to be a favorite way of satisfying their idea of revenge;but they will have a hard time doing it, now that we are warned."
"I read the scroll somewhat as you do," said Mr. Armstrong, "and atonce commenced to ask among the neighbors concerning them. One man, whohad been out hunting most of the day, told about seeing the Frenchmenin the woods. They seemed to be heading this way, and acted as thoughthey were making sure of their ground as they advanced. As he did notfancy running into trouble, he simply lay in the bushes until they hadpassed on."
"Which proves that they are really around here again, urged on by somefoolish notion that they have suffered wrongs at our hands, and oughtto square the account," remarked Bob, seriously.
"It will be squared, one of these fine days," said Sandy, with a glancein the direction of the corner where he had stood his musket afterentering, taking it from the hands of Pat, who had been carrying theheavy piece for him, because of his lame leg.
"Yis," spoke up Pat, "there be but wan way to aven accounts wid suchspalpeens as thim Frinch trappers, who make most av their livin'stalin' from the traps av honest min; and that is by diskiverin' thesame in some ugly thrick, an' wastin' a precious bit av lead."
"Here comes Blue Jacket to see you, mother," said Bob.
"Oh!" broke in Sandy, "if you could only have seen him when he wastelling that war-loving Little Turtle how much he was in debt to theArmstrong family, it would have done you good, mother. Of course wedidn't just understand all they said; but Pat could, and he told ushow Blue Jacket was declaring he would lay down his life for any one ofus, if the need arose. He said you attended to his hurt just as if hewere your own son."
It could be easily understood, after that, what a warm welcome greetedthe young Shawanee brave when he strode into their midst. Doubtlessit was pleasant to him to know that they thought so much of him; buthe did not betray this fact even by a smile. An Indian learns fromchildhood to repress all outward evidence of feeling springing eitherfrom joy or pain. Anger alone will he allow himself to show, and thatonly because it excites his ardor for the battlefield or to follow thetrail of his enemy.
Sandy was waiting to spring something upon the young Shawanee brave. Hehad asked his father for the arrow which
had been shot so as to dropdirectly on the roof of the Armstrong cabin. This he suddenly laidbefore Blue Jacket.
"You, who can tell the different arrow-points, and the way offeathering the shaft, of every tribe along the Ohio, look at this, andsay whose was the hand that drew the bow from which it came," Sandywent on to say.
Blue Jacket looked gravely at the flint tip that was bound in thecleft of the straight shaft with strong fibres taken from some plant.There must have been signs that immediately informed him as to whattribe the party belonged who had made that arrow. (Note 7.)
"Ugh! Delaware arrow, him," grunted Blue Jacket; and no one dreamed ofdisputing his simple assertion; indeed, Pat O'Mara was seen to wag hishead in a satisfied way, as though that declaration exactly coincidedwith his own private opinion.
"So, you see," remarked Sandy, with an air of triumph, turning on hisbrother, "I always said I believed it was an Indian who sent thosequeer messages; but why do you suppose he does it? The Delawares as arule are not in love with the white settlers. When a colony is attackedthere are generally Delawares among the reds who creep up to surprisethe poor settlers. Why should a Delaware want to do us a good turn;tell me that, Bob?"
"Well, now, I am just as much in the dark as you are," returned Bob;"unless that was a Delaware youth you rescued, Sandy, from thathorrible quicksand late in the autumn on that day you went out huntingalone."
"It might be," Sandy replied, looking thoughtful; "he never told mewho he was; but held out his hand to me, and then disappeared in thebushes, from which fact I made up my mind that he must have been ona very important errand at the time he got trapped in that slough. ADelaware--well, perhaps he was. Seems to me he looked like the one whowas caught hanging around here early last summer, and who was allowedto go, with a warning never to come back. But I suppose I never willknow the truth."
"But, it sames to me it's a mighty good thing to have sich a grandfri'nd always on the watch till warrn yees whin danger draws nigh,"remarked the trapper. "Now, av I'd had the same, 'tis manny a bad timeI might have been saved from goin' through wid, in me day. And marrk meworrd, this same party must have a bad falin' towards the Frinchmin;becase he sames to kape watch over them, so he do; plazed to upset annyplans they might be after makin'."
Leaving the cabin in the charge of Mrs. Armstrong, Kate, and Sandy, thelast of whom wished to have some of the home-made salve applied to hisswollen ankle, the rest went out to watch the rising of the waters, andto compare notes with others among the anxious settlers, now in fearof having the little homes for which they had toiled so hard swept awaywith the flood.
One who had been keeping close watch over the situation declared thatfor more than half an hour now the river had been at a standstill.Even such a small thing as this brought some ray of hope in its train;though Pat warned them not to relax their vigilance one iota, becausethe information sent down the Ohio by means of those signal smokes wasusually very accurate, and could be depended on.
It was after a time decided to set a watch, while the rest of thesettlers tried to obtain some sleep, of which they were in much need.Should the river once more begin to rise, information of the eventwould be carried around quietly from cabin to cabin, so as not toawaken the women and children, and needlessly alarm them, even thoughit were deemed the part of wisdom for the men to be abroad.
But, in case the water started to rise swiftly, as would be the caseshould the flood predicted by the Indians arrive, then the alarm bell,used only in cases of great necessity, like a threatened Indian attack,would be rung.
Should that be heard, every one must immediately start to remove allof his possessions, scanty as these were at the best, to a place ofsecurity on higher ground.
It was an anxious group that gathered there for a last consultation,before separating for the night. Bob missed Blue Jacket, and yet theIndian came and went at will when visiting his white friends, so thathis absence caused no alarm.
Finally Mr. Armstrong took Bob by the sleeve, saying:
"Come, you and Pat, we will return home. We all of us need sleep, andsurely you in particular, my son, after the excitement of the perilsthat hung over your head. Perhaps a kindly Providence, that has allalong watched over our fortunes, may see fit to ward off this new andterrible danger. But, if it is to come, we could not help matters byremaining awake. Let us then be securing some rest, so as to be readyto work with a will, in case the worst comes."
Half an hour later perfect quiet seemed to surround the cabin of thesettlers from Virginia; but, nevertheless, Pat slept, as he himselfexpressed it, "wid wan eye open." Besides, he kept his long rifleclose to his hand; and Sandy felt positive that, in case there came anymidnight alarm, O'Mara would be out of the cabin like a flash, and woeto the skulking figure on which his eye rested.
Tired out after the labors of the day, and easily able to throw theburden off his young mind, Bob Armstrong was not long in going tosleep, once he had dropped down on his bed, covered with some of thefurs taken by himself and Sandy.
They had been warned not to undress, lest there might be need of suddenaction with the coming of the flood. But such a little thing as thatdid not bother either of the Armstrong boys, who were used to roughingit whenever they went into the woods.
Bob never knew how long he slept; but it must have been for severalhours, because the fire on the hearth had died down when he opened hiseyes again, and it had been looked after at the time he lay down.
But the condition of the fire gave the boy little or no concern atthe time he awoke; for, hardly had he opened his eyes, than he becameconscious of the thrilling fact that it had not been a dream afterall but the alarm bell was wildly pealing out its brazen notes; andoutside he could hear men's hoarse voices shouting:
"Up, every one of you! The flood is coming swiftly, and already thewater has commenced to rise at a fearful rate. Awake! Be up and doing,if you would save your possessions! The flood! the flood!"
The Pioneer Boys of the Mississippi; or, The Homestead in the Wilderness Page 10