Boys of Old Monmouth: A Story of Washington's Campaign in New Jersey in 1778

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XII

  BATHSHEBA'S FEAST

  INDIAN JOHN had been slightly changing the direction in which they wererunning, although Little Peter had not perceived the change. At firstthey had kept close to the water's edge, and at times the creeping tidehad rolled up to their feet. As his companion had gradually drawn closerto the higher ridge which extended somewhat farther back from the beach,Peter had thought nothing of the slight divergence, except that theIndian was desirous of keeping a little farther from the water.

  Along this ridge in advance of him, Peter saw that thick bushes andstunted trees were growing, and he thought of the possibility of findingsome hiding-place there; but he was hardly prepared for the change whichIndian John then made. They had just passed a bend in the ridge whichshut out the view of their pursuers, and come to a little gully whichthe winter storms had in the course of many years cut deep into thebank. Here Indian John turned sharply, and, bidding his companion followhim, turned directly into the woods, which extended from the shore farback into the adjoining country.

  Little Peter instantly followed, but they had not gone many yards beforethey came suddenly upon a wigwam in the midst of the forest. Indian Johnstopped, and, after a few hurried words with the Indian who was standingnear and who had silently watched the approaching fugitives, beckonedfor Peter to follow him, and both entered the conical shaped dwellingand threw themselves upon the ground.

  The lad was so thankful for the respite, and was so nearly exhausted byhis efforts, that for a time he said nothing, being only too glad of anopportunity to rest. Every moment he expected to hear the voices oftheir pursuers, and more than once was on the point of starting forthfrom the hut and resuming his flight, so certain was he that the men haddiscovered the hiding-place.

  After a time he was positive that he was not deceived. He could hear thevoices of men in conversation with the Indians, and all of his fearsreturned. His companion placed his hand upon the arm of the tremblinglad, and Peter waited, listening intently, and fearful every moment thatsome one would enter the hut and summon them to come forth.

  The conversation lasted several minutes, and then abruptly ceased. Petercould not determine whether the strangers had departed or not; but hewaited anxiously and did not speak.

  The moments slowly passed and his suspense increased. It seemed to himthat he must escape from the place in which he was concealed. The veryair was strangely oppressive, and the ignorance as to what was going onoutside the wigwam increased the anxiety of the frightened boy.

  He did not know where he was, nor who were the people whose abode IndianJohn had so unceremoniously entered. No voice within or without the hutcould now be heard, and the silence itself added to his alarm.

  He could see that Indian John was seated upon the ground with his headresting upon his knees. He had not moved nor changed his position sincethey had entered. Motionless as a statue he remained seated, as if hewere utterly unmindful of all about him.

  "John!" whispered Little Peter at last.

  The Indian raised his head and looked at his companion, but did notspeak.

  "John, don't you think we'd better start on again?"

  Indian John still made no reply, and his head dropped again upon hisknees. Peter then perceived that his companion intended neither to speaknor to depart, and that he must wait in silence for him to explain hispurpose, or to act.

  The impatient lad endeavored to possess his soul in patience, but as themoments passed his anxiety and fear increased. The uncertainty, hethought, was even more difficult to be borne than was the pursuititself, for action of some kind was then possible, while this waiting insilence was almost unbearable. Not a sound could now be heard. The verybirds were silent under the burning heat of the noontime, and thegrating notes of the crickets had ceased.

  At last it seemed to him he could bear it no longer, and he was about toarise and go forth from the hut, regardless of consequences, when someone entered and spoke a few words in an unknown tongue to Indian John.

  "Come," said the Indian gently, standing erect as he spoke; and LittlePeter at once followed him out into the open air.

  He glanced quickly about him, but no one was to be seen except threeIndians, one of whom was a man, and the others, two women. Little Peterinstantly recognized them as Moluss, or "Charlie" Moluss, as many of thewhites called him, and his wife and her sister.

  The two women were busily engaged in preparing the contents of a smalliron vessel, which was hanging from a stick supported by two forkedbranches, driven into the ground, and beneath which a brisk fire wasburning.

  One of the women was feeding the fire, while the other was stirring thecontents of the hanging pot. A savory odor greeted Little Peter'snostrils, and as soon as he perceived that he was in no immediate dangerhe realized that he was hungry; and, with the passing of his alarm,there came an eager interest in the occupation of the two women beforehim.

  Little Peter had seen the trio many times before this. They had theirhome with others of their tribe in a little settlement several milesback in the interior. This settlement was commonly known as Edgepelick,or Edge Pillock, and to it the Indians had gradually withdrawn afterthey had disposed of their lands, for the good people of Old Monmouthwere as scrupulous as their New England cousins in not taking the landsfrom the dusky owners without giving a so-called equivalent for them.

  It is true that this "equivalent" sometimes was a barrel of cider, or apiece of bright-colored cloth; but perhaps the Indians thought that wasbetter than nothing, and as their lands were certain to be taken fromthem, even such an equivalent as that which was offered was not to bedespised, and so they had submitted to the unequal exchange. At allevents, the exchanges had been made, and in the summer of 1778, many ofthe Indian families were dwelling in Edge Pillock, and there continuedto reside until the year 1802, when the men who had driven such shrewdbargains with them caused them all to be removed to Oneida Lake, in theneighboring State of New York.

  Charlie Moluss, with his wife and her sister, had been frequent visitorsin Little Peter's home, and he knew them almost as well as he did IndianJohn. Somehow, they had not been content to abide continuously in EdgePillock, and at least twice each year came down to the shore, where theyerected a wigwam, and while Moluss fished and gathered oysters andclams, the women made baskets and sold them among the scattered homes ofthe settlers. Doubtless this, then, was their annual visit, thoughtLittle Peter, and their abiding place had been known to Indian John, whohad sought its shelter as a place of refuge from their pursuers. AndLittle Peter was quite content, at least for the present, and hisfeeling of relief was not diminished by the savory odor which now arosefrom the iron vessel.

  Charlie Moluss's wife was a strikingly handsome Indian woman, and wasknown as Bathsheba, which the irreverent settlers had shortened into"Bath," as they had her sister's name into "Suke."

  Bathsheba was considered as an Indian queen, and the respect which theIndians showed her was, to a certain extent, shared by the white people,especially by the Quakers. She was regarded as a highly intelligentwoman, and the most prominent people of the region were always glad towelcome her to their homes.

  Little Peter thought of all these things as he seated himself upon theground beside the two men, who were, apparently, as deeply interested inthe occupation of the women as was he, himself. The work went steadilyon, and, while Peter found that his hunger was increasing, henevertheless listened to what Indian John told him of Moluss's successin turning their pursuers back to their camp at Refugee Town. Some ofthem had followed the fugitives as far as the wigwam, but had turnedaway after the Indian had professed his inability to give them theinformation they desired, and, doubtless, before this time, were safelyback in "'Gee Town," as Indian John termed their little settlement bythe Hook.

  Just why they had been pursued Indian John could not explain, but he hadconnected it in some way with the appearance of the boat off the shore,and Little Peter was not inclined to differ from his conclusion.
He wassatisfied now that his father was not to be found in Refugee Town, andhe had decided to go farther down the shore to the place where hethought he would be likely to find Captain Dennis, or some of the localmilitia who had been stationed near to protect the salt works andstrive to hold back the pine robbers, many of whom had their places ofconcealment not far away.

  Just at present, however, the thought of his dinner was uppermost in hismind. He eagerly watched Bathsheba and her sister in their work, and,from their movements, he concluded that his waiting time was soon toend. One of the women entered the wigwam and brought out several smallwooden bowls. Into these she dipped some of the steaming contents of theiron vessel, placing each bowl upon the ground when it had been filled.

  A word from Bathsheba caused Moluss to arise, and, approaching the fire,he took one of the bowls in both hands and then seated himself upon theground and proceeded to blow with his breath upon the soup, preparatoryto drinking it.

  His example was speedily followed by Indian John and Little Peter, whotook their bowls and seated themselves beside Moluss on the ground. Anexpression of deep satisfaction was manifest upon the faces of the twomen, while the women, apparently proud of their success in the culinaryart, looked on with evident pleasure. Little Peter also raised the bowlin his hands and blew upon it.

  "Good!" said Moluss, taking a long draught. "Good hop! Hop good!"

  "Good!" muttered Indian John, following his friend's example. "Good hop!Good hop!"

  "What?" said Little Peter suddenly, placing his bowl again on the groundbefore him as he spoke. "What was that you said, John?"

  "Good! Good hop," replied the Indian, with evident satisfaction.

  "You don't mean to say that hop-toads are in this soup, do you?"

  "Um!" replied Indian John, with a grunt of pleasure. "Good! Littlehop-hop! John like um! Good hop! John like um little hop-hop!" And,suiting the action to the word, he proceeded to take a deeper draught ofthe savory mixture.

  All of Little Peter's hunger, however, had disappeared. He quickly arosefrom his seat, and, with an expression of disgust upon his face, whichhe could not entirely repress, prepared to pass the group and go intothe forest.

  A loud laugh greeted his action, and as he passed Moluss, the Indianheld forth his bowl, and said, "Peter like um hop-hop? Good! Moluss likeum hop-hop! John like um hop-hop! Squaw like um hop-hop! All like umhop-hop! All like um hop-hop! Peter like um, too?"

  Little Peter was not to be tempted, and the broad grin upon the faces ofthe women, as well as the loud laugh of the men which followed him as heturned into the forest, did not tend to overcome his feeling of disgust.How was it possible that they could be willing to eat such filthycreatures as hop-toads? Little Peter was all in ignorance of some of thedainty viands which, under high-sounding names, are served up in ourmodern restaurants, and so, as a matter of course, could draw nocomparison between the tastes of the rude, uncivilized savages and thoseof the more highly cultivated men of our own times. Perhaps he would nothave compared them if he had been possessed of the prophet's foresight.He knew, however, that his own hunger had disappeared, and as he walkedon he found many excuses for his uncivilized friends. They were welcometo their own customs, but they must not expect him to join them in theirfeasts.

  He had gone so far from the wigwam by this time that he thought therepast, which had so highly delighted his friends, would be ended bythe time he could walk back. Accordingly, he reversed his steps, but ashe walked on his own pressing problem returned in full force.

  His father was not to be found in Refugee Town, of that he felt certain;for, while Indian John had not said much, he knew him so well that hewas satisfied he had known whereof he had spoken.

  Where, then, could he be? It was currently reported that Fenton's bandhad a place in the lower part of the county, to which they carried theirbooty and from which they started forth on their raids. It was justpossible that his father had been taken there by the outlaws in theirflight, but he would not long be retained there. Fenton knew whatAmerican prisoners were worth in the New York market, and, doubtless, hewould find some means by which he could send him there. And the pinerobber would act soon, too, for with the approach of the armies, therewould be many opportunities for his own special work, and he would notlong be hampered by the presence of a single prisoner, whose value wouldbe slight compared with that of the plunder he might secure.

  Little Peter decided that what he was to do he must do quickly. Hewould start at once for the place where Captain Dennis's men were saidto be, and place the entire matter in their hands. The captain was a manwhose bravery was well known in Old Monmouth, and he was ever ready toaid the scattered settlers.

  Captain Dennis would surely help him, too, Peter thought, and, with hisheart somewhat lightened, he began to walk more rapidly. He would returnto the wigwam and inform Indian John of his decision. If John would gowith him, he would be glad of his aid, but, whether he went or not, thelad felt that his own problem was, in a measure, already solved.

  "Little Peter, is that you?"

  The startled lad looked up quickly at the unexpected summons, and saw,standing directly in his pathway, nine men. Each had a musket in hishands, but they wore no uniforms, and for a moment Little Peter couldnot determine whether they were friends or foes.