The Pioneer Boys of the Mississippi; or, The Homestead in the Wilderness

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XXII

  AT THE SETTING OF THE EVENING STAR

  THE daring voyagers on the beamy flatboat knew that no matter how theiradventure might turn out in the end, whether for good or evil, at leastthey were now on the home stretch. It was only a question of a fewdays before they would be able to feast their eager eyes on that greatstream of which they had heard so much.

  Their caution did not decrease, however. They realized that enemiesmight lurk in the trees that bordered the river, and even amid thebeds of waving green reeds in marshy places, which were capable ofconcealing treacherous foes, ready to let slip the swift arrow, ordischarge the French guns with which the unscrupulous traders at thenumerous posts were supplying the various tribes.

  Nor was this all they had to fear. The closer they came to the valleyof the Mississippi the more peril they faced. Indians were had enough;but, deep down in their hearts, the pioneers dreaded an encounter withthe outlaw trappers who, belonging to the old-time foe of England,had ever been a thorn in the flesh of those who would people the vastwilderness beyond the Alleghanies. (Note 11.)

  Mr. Armstrong fully expected to have to fight for his new possession.He believed, however, that, if they could only manage to hold out untilthe second detachment arrived, to augment their force, all might bewell.

  As for Sandy, he was daily showing more and more signs of excitement.The dearest dream of his life was coming true; and, when presentlyhe could feast his eyes on the rolling flood of the greatest of allrivers, he would feel contented--for a little while, at least.

  They were hardly a day without some new thrill.

  Now it was the sight of an Indian village in full view on the shore,with the smoke curling up from several fires, where the squaws seemedto be curing meat by some primitive process. Mr. Armstrong imaginedthat most of the warriors must be off on another grand hunt; for, whilemany old men, squaws and papooses crowded to the edge of the water, andloud derisive shouts floated to the ears of the voyagers, there was noeffort made to man the canoes and attack the drifting flatboat.

  Occasionally they discovered some lone brave in a small craft, huntingthe wild water birds that still remained in quantities at certainfavored places, while their feathered companions had swept away bymillions to far northern breeding-grounds, to return again in theautumn months.

  Mr. Armstrong made it a point to have one of the men aboard theflatboat call out something in French whenever the chance arose. Hisobject was to make the red hunters believe that the passengers and crewbelonged to the nation with which the western tribes had long been atpeace. He believed that all such devices were fair in war times; andthat such an impression, if scattered broadcast among the Indians, wasapt to save the little party from many hazards.

  But they were not always free from sudden perils that seemed to comelike bolts from a clear sky.

  One night they had tied up to the southern shore, as usual. So far asPat O'Mara had been able to decide, there need be no fear of Indians,although of course they meant to keep up a constant watch, so as toguard against a surprise.

  Supper had been cooked ashore, since they had become so tired of theirconfined quarters aboard the boat that every chance to stretch theirlimbs was eagerly seized upon, even though they realized that thegreatest element of safety lay in remaining back of that stout bulwarkformed by the sides of their floating home.

  The good mothers were busily engaged putting the smaller children tosleep, while the men sat around the small fire, smoking and comparingnotes as to how long they would be in reaching their destination.

  It was a subject that they never wearied of talking about, sinceall their hopes were bound up now in building those new homes thatthey kept picturing in their family councils. The men did not mindthis roving existence so much, for they had become reconciled todiscomforts; but the wives and mothers yearned for the conclusionof the long and wearisome voyage. They missed all the conveniencesof the cabins to which they were accustomed. In these later days ahousekeeper would be apt to smile upon learning what little constitutedthe full assortment of "comforts" which made up the life of oneof those pioneer women; but it was all they had ever known, and aspinning-wheel, with the flax that went with it, meant a supply ofclothing for the family that could be procured in no other way.

  One of the men had been posted at a certain point where it was believedhe would be able to discover the slightest sign of an approachingenemy, and the balance rested in full confidence of their safety.

  Bob and Sandy had taken a notion to look over some of theirhighly-prized traps which might need oiling; for they wanted them to bein the best of condition when they started their fall campaign in thenew country.

  They sat so that they might receive the benefit of the blaze thatstill kept up, as new fuel was occasionally added to the little fire,the evening being rather chilly, considering how far the season wasadvanced.

  And as they polished, or rubbed some bear's grease on the traps thathad seen long service through rain, snow and fair weather, the boystalked, as they nearly always did, about the prospects that were sosoon to be realized.

  "Father thinks two more days ought to bring us to where the Ohioempties into the Mississippi," remarked Sandy, rubbing vigorously thewhile.

  "I only hope he is right, and that two nights from now we'll be campedon the shore of that wonderful river," Bob replied, stopping his workto critically examine it, so as to see whether anything more could bedone to keep that particular trap from being eaten by rust.

  "What was that dropped down just beside you, Bob?" suddenly asked theyounger boy, staring hard as he spoke.

  "I heard something fall, but I supposed it was a nut dropped by asquirrel," replied Bob, at the same time placing the trap on theground while he leaned over to examine. "I never saw the squirrels andraccoons so tame as they are along here. Really now, I believe theywould almost take a piece of mother's hoe-cake right out of my hand.Where was it you saw the nut fall, Sandy? Am I near it now? Tell mewhen I get warmer or colder, like we do in that game the girls liked toplay back in Virginia."

  "There, it must have been about where your hand is now; and--why, whatis that?" and Sandy stared with all his might at the object Bob washolding up in his hand. "An arrow! An Indian arrow! Oh! some prowlingred wolf has been trying to shoot us down as we sit here. What a narrowescape you had!"

  "Wait, Sandy!" exclaimed Bob, quickly, and with that vein of authorityin his voice which he at times almost unconsciously assumed whenendeavoring to check the hasty actions of his younger brother. "Lookagain, and perhaps you may remember seeing just such an arrow as thisbefore."

  Sandy sank back in his seat, as though his sudden fright had passedaway.

  "Oh! it is the same Delaware arrow!" he cried. "Our good, but unknownfriend has once more sent us a warning that danger hangs over ourheads! Pull the message off, Bob, and let us see what it says! Howsplendid of this strange protector to follow us all the way from ourold home, away up the Ohio, to this new land. What could we have doneto deserve such kindness, such faithfulness?"

  Bob had not been idle all the time Sandy was talking. As before, therewas a strip of birch bark fastened to the stout reed that constitutedthe shaft of the feathered arrow, bearing the Delaware flint barb.

  Again were crude but easily understood figures scratched upon the lightbrown side of the bark; this time they were very numerous, and told astory as plain as though it had been printed with types.

  There was a campfire, and a tied-up flatboat, which must belong tothem. About that fire a number of people seemed to be leisurely takingtheir ease. Stars dotted what was intended for the sky overhead; andone large one in particular was just above the horizon, indicated bya straight line. Many recumbent figures, with feathers, different inarrangement from any seen before, adorning their scalplocks, wereevidently crawling up through the long grass, coming from both sides.They carried bows and arrows, and a few of them guns.

  Sandy looked at the drawing, holding his very breath
meanwhile.

  "It means that we will be attacked by a tribe of Indians we've nevermet before, doesn't it?" he demanded. "Because, I remember how theShawanees, the Delawares, the Pottawottomies, the Senecas, the Miamisand the Hurons wear feathers in their hair when on the war-path, andthese are different."

  "Yes, I think you are right, Sandy," replied the other; "but an Indianmust always be an Indian to us, if he is hostile. Do you notice how hehas drawn this big star close down to the level of the horizon? Thatmust be meant for the evening star up yonder; and the attack is plannedfor the time of its setting."

  "Which will come in another hour, Bob," Sandy went on, feverishly."Come, let us gather all our traps together, and get them aboard. I'lllook after that; and do you show our father what our kind friend hasdone for the Armstrongs for the third time."

  "Just what I was going to say to you, Sandy," remarked Bob. "Butremember, you must not look so excited, for many reasons. Why, rightnow, at this very minute, how do we know but that a number of savageIndians may be watching us, ready to send in a shower of arrows if theyunderstand that we have guessed their game? Go about your work just asif we didn't have the least suspicion of danger."

  "I will, Bob, you can depend on me; and what you say is good, hardsense, every word of it. I only wish I could keep myself held down, andcool, as you do. But it just seems as though something inside of me isalways ready to jump at the very first sign of excitement. But there'sfather looking this way now. Perhaps he has discovered that you areholding an arrow in your hands, and wonders where you got it. Please goover and beg of him to get aboard with mother and Kate right away. Andhold on to your gun--hold on to your gun!"

  This last piece of advice was wholly unnecessary, for Bob wasdetermined to be in a condition to help defend the boat, should asudden emergency arise before the time set for the attack.

  While Sandy hurried to get the bunch of traps aboard, and return tothe shore again, Bob sauntered over to where his father stood, and asquietly as possible explained what had happened.

  "You have a long head, for a boy, son," was what Mr. Armstrongremarked, as his hand fell affectionately on Bob's shoulder; and suchfew words of praise always made the boy's heart thrill with pride, forhis greatest ambition was to deserve the commendation of those who werenearest and dearest to him. "We will try to let the men know, withoutshowing any undue alarm. The sentry, too, must be informed, so that hemay come in, and be ready to spring for the boat at the signal."

  This was soon accomplished. Then, at the given word, everybody leapedfor the side of the boat. Instantly a scene of great excitementfollowed. A gun sounded, and a number of arrows came hurtling throughthe air, to strike the side of the cabin; while blood-curdling yellsarose from a point near by, showing where the enemy had been crawlingup all the while the voyagers rested under the belief that they weresafely guarded.

  Fortunately no one was severely hurt by these feathered shafts, firedso hastily, and without proper aim, though Mr. Bancroft, who had beenon guard, and had further to run than any of the rest, received onethrough the fleshy part of his left arm as he climbed up the side ofthe boat.

  But by now the guns of the whites began to answer back, and theIndians, who were coming headlong through the brush, evidently meaningto follow them aboard, met with such a hot reception that they wereglad to drop flat, and creep behind trees or rocks.

  "Cut the cable free!" shouted Mr. Armstrong. "Keep the women undershelter, and let every gun be ready to repel boarders, if they come onagain!"

  He himself boldly seized one of the push poles, and threw his wholeweight upon it, the instant the cable had been released that held theupper end of the boat to a tree.

  Arrows hurtled around him in a cloud, and it seemed as though he mustsurely be struck down at any second; but Mr. Armstrong appeared to beara charmed life, for he did not receive even a trivial wound.

  The boat was already moving with the sluggish current close to theshore. It was fortunate that all these things had been prepared for atthe time they tied up there. In the time of necessity a second mightmean safety or disaster to those hardy souls who had entrusted theirall to a slender chance.

  Seeing that their expected quarry was leaving them in the lurch, theIndians increased their fire; and then some of the more rash among themrushed into full view, as though meaning to board the craft.

  But they counted without their host. Those frontiersmen knew how todefend their craft desperately. They never pulled trigger withoutlessening the number of their assailants. Bob and Sandy were on thefiring line, and had no sooner discharged their muskets than they setto work with feverish haste to get another load rammed home again.

  Several of the Indians managed to dash through the water up to thewaist, and started to make their way aboard; but clubbed guns smotethose feathered heads with such unerring skill that not a singlebronzed warrior ever set foot on deck.

  Now the boat was leaving the shore, influenced by the sweep, which twoof the voyagers managed to work fairly well. The danger seemed over,and lusty shouts broke from the lips of the defenders of the craft asthey noted that the scene of the late battle was being left far behind,with the baffled Indians giving short, sharp yelps, like wolves thathave been cheated out of their prey.

  "Well done!" exclaimed Mr. Armstrong, breathing freely for the firsttime since he had heard Bob tell how the warning arrow had fallen closeat his side. "And now, Neighbor Bancroft, let us look at that woundyou've received. I can pull the arrow through easier than break orwithdraw it. A painful but not a dangerous wound; you must let my wifebathe it, and put on some of her magic salve."

  "I only hope the heathen have not taken to poisoning their arrows,"remarked Mr. Bancroft; and Bob and Sandy exchanged glances.

  It happened that, many months before, one of them had watched anIroquois brave irritate a rattle-snake with a pole until he had thereptile in a furious mood, and then allow it to strike a piece of freshmeat many times, filling it with the green venom from his poison sack.After this meat had become impregnated with the virus, arrow pointswere dipped in it and allowed to dry until each had been thoroughlyinfected. But it was seldom the Indians used such terrible weapons;somehow they seemed to be bound by some code of honor that influencedthem to refrain from adding to the seriousness of an arrow wound.

  Pat came up, and by the light of a lantern, held by one of the boys,helped Mr. Armstrong draw the arrow through the wound, for it wasnearly half-way out, and could not be broken without additional pain tothe victim.

  Then Bob's mother, who was a splendid nurse, came to dress the wound,and apply some of her salve, upon which every one relied so completely.

  Bob had been keeping an eye on Pat, who he saw was examining the arrowclosely. As Pat was well acquainted with the peculiarities of the manyseparate Indian tribes, as connected with their arrows and head-dressof feathers, Bob felt positive that he could tell him what he wanted toknow.

  "That is no Shawanee arrow, Pat, I take it?" he remarked.

  "That's jist it, Bob, me bye," the trapper declared, nodding as helooked up. "No Shawanee brave iver made his arrow afther the likes avthat. Sac, I says till mesilf, as soon as I set me eyes on it, an'Sac I says shtill. They do be the manest rids av the whole bunch, I'mthinkin'; though, belave me, I'd hisitate to say that same in theprisince av Mrs. Armstrong, bliss her swate heart for an angel, wid herhealin' salve an' her coolin' lotions, becase she has been thryin' tobelave that all the bad Injuns has been lift behint entirely; whin thethruth be, there's jist as many out along the ould Mississippi as weknew afore."

  After passing down several miles in the semi-darkness they anchored theboat off a bar, and kept close watch until dawn brought safety; whenthe voyage was resumed, with grateful hearts that another peril hadbeen safely passed, thanks to that unknown red friend who had a debt tosettle with the Armstrong boys.

  Still another night passed, and again they slept on board, for thewomen were averse to taking any more chances. This brought them to theday
when, according to all the figuring done by Mr. Armstrong, assistedby what knowledge Pat O'Mara had on the subject, they should be closeto the place of the joining of the two great rivers.

  All morning long they kept a vigil. Eager eyes looked ahead, in thehope of discovering the mighty stream which had lured them all the wayfrom their old home far up the picturesque Ohio.

  The afternoon was pretty well advanced when Sandy gave a whoop that wascharacteristic of the lad. No need to ask what made him leap about soboisterously, waving his coonskin cap around his head. Every eye turnedin the direction of the expected vision; and, when they saw the greatsweep of water that lay ahead, with its further shore but dimly markedagainst the western horizon, a silence fell upon them.

  It was indeed the Mississippi that spread before the eyes of that bravelittle company, up to then almost a sealed book to English colonists,though well known to the French trappers and traders, whose cordon ofposts from north to south united Canada with the warm regions of thegulf.

  They had finally come to the region where their new home was to bebuilt--on the bank of the Mississippi.