"Injuns attacked their station whilst all the menfolks were off huntin'. They killed Jenny's brother, and three of the youngsters were killed and scalped. They taken Jenny an' her baby prisoner, finally killed the baby by bashing its head against a tree because it cried too much. Jenny got away finally, and barely made it to safety, with Injuns right after her." I gestured at the country around. "It happened right up the creek from here near a place they called Harmon's Station. It's been gone a long time now."
We paddled on, nobody talking much, and the shadows darkened the ground under the trees, and the tree trunks lost their shapes in the darkness.
Ahead of us a light showed, then another, and we saw a house and a man walkin' from the barn carryin a lantern. He went to the house and a door opened and he went in and the moment of light was gone. He would be settin' down to supper now, with no worries of trouble behind him, like us.
"All around here and back the way we've come was Lew Wetzel country. Jessie Hughes, he was mostly further east over in West Virginia. They were Injun fighters. Had folks killed by Injuns, and they declared a vendetta against them. Never let up. Wetzel, they say, let his hair grow long a-purpose to tantalize the Injuns with his scalp.
"They wanted his hair but they were scared of him, too. Some of them didn't believe him human."
I taken up a paddle against to spell Archie. "Village ahead." He spoke softly. "We'd better get some grub."
A man was down by the river, watering a team. He looked up as we nosed in to the bank. "You be travelin' late," he commented.
"We're riding ahead of trouble," I said, "and wishful of avoidin' it."
"Ma could put somethin' on." He pointed toward the nearest light. "I'm behindhand with cultivatin'," he explained. "I was laid up with a fever.
"You go on up to the house. Ma will enjoy the comp'ny. She's a great one for comp'ny." He turned his team away from the water. "I can do without, m'self."
A dog ran out, barking fiercely. "Shep," the man said, "you be still. These are folks."
A woman came to the door, a ladle-spoon in hand. "Who is it, Jacob?"
"Strangers, Ma, right hungry ones. I said we'd put somethin' on."
There was a basin on a bench by the door, and a roller towel. We washed up there, and Archie went down by the river again to listen into the night.
"They followin' close?" Jacob asked.
"We don't know, but they'll be along." Archie looked at him. "You be careful. They ain't kindly folks."
"We never turned anybody away," Jacob said.
"I'm not suggestin' it, just you be careful. These are mean folk."
Jacob looked over at me.
"You know the Natchez Trace?" I asked. Of course he did, we all did. "One of these men worked the trace like the Harpes an' Murrell. Only nobody ever caught him at it. The one time they did catch him over in the Settlements, he hired a good lawyer an' went free."
"All right. You have you somethin'." He turned to his wife. "Ma? Fix them a bait of that hog meat. The roasted meat, somethin' they can carry off with them."
He went to the barn with his horses and stripped the harness from them. I was standing tired in the night, and I knew the others were, too. When he set up to the table I could see weariness in their faces. If only we could lay up and rest!
I thought for a minute of takin' that new rifle-gun and layin' up on a bend of the creek with it. I could fix a man dead at two hundred yards with that. Maybe five hundred. But I was not wishful of killin'. Yet I remembered what Regal had said: "There's times when a body must defend himself, Echo, an' when that time comes, you'd better win."
There was a fire going on the hearth, and the table had been spread with a cloth, honorin' the company. "Ain't often we get folks from the river," the woman said. "They don't travel the waters the way they did when I was a girl."
"They're beginning to cut timber up yonder. Logs will be floated down to the Ohio soon."
"It's cash money," I said, "but I hate to see the trees go down."
"We need the money," the woman agreed. "Jacob may take to cuttin' an' fallin' hisself. Not many cash crops in this here country lest a man goes to moonshinin', an' we don't hold with that. Not that we're teetotalers. Jacob likes his nip, time to time."
When we'd eaten, we got up and Archie wiped his hands on his pants. "Thank you, ma'am. I am obliged."
"Don't forget the bait I put up for you. Take it along in case of need."
"We will need it," I said, "but take our warning. Those behind us ride with the devil. They are not kindly folk."
"We never turned anybody away," Jacob repeated.
"Don't turn 'em away, but keep a gun handy."
We went back to the canoe, hesitated, then got in and shoved off upon the dark, dark water. All of us ached with weariness.
"Up ahead," I said, "we'll find a place. We've got to sleep."
Maybe it was because we were tired. Maybe it was the idea that men followed us to steal what we had, but I had a sense of foreboding, a sense of evil.
Where was Felix Horst? It wasn't like him to disappear and leave the stealing to such as Timothy Oats and Elmer. That man worried me.
"Don't worry about him," Dorian said. "He's away behind us, probably in Cincinnati or some such place."
We paddled more slowly now, moving carefully on the dark water because there were occasional floating logs and sometimes masses of debris and drift stuff all rafted together. By day a body could see them easy enough; by night it was another thing. Even a projecting root or branch could rip the bottom out of a canoe like ours.
"Hey!" Archie was peering into the night. "There's a landing of some sort."
"Let's see what's there," I said.
Archie guided the canoe in alongside the dock, and as we steadied the boat, he climbed out.
"Cabin up yonder," he said, "all quiet. I think it's deserted."
We tied the canoe and climbed out, bringing our gear. Somewhere back in the darkness an owl hooted a question to the night.
"Pull the canoe under the landing," I suggested. "If somebody comes along, they aren't apt to see it."
There were big trees here, tulip, sycamore, oak, and suchlike. There was a smell of decay and a sense of emptiness about the place. There were no cows in the lot, no smell of hogs or horses.
"Deserted," Dorian said. "I wonder why."
"They couldn't cut the mustard," I said. "Many try, only a few make it. Some find the work too hard, some can't stand the loneliness."
"Let's see what's in the house," Dorian suggested.
"Leave it be," I said. "If anybody comes a-lookin', that's where they'll go. We can sleep under the trees yonder, and if anybody comes, we'll hear them."
Archie had taken a stick he found leaning against a tree and was brushing around. "Snakes," he explained.
When we sat down and listened, here and there things rustled in the far-off leaves, branches rubbed one against the other, and now that we were quiet, the frogs started to talk it up again. Occasionally we saw a bat dip and swoop, chasing bugs.
Stretching out on the ground with my arm for a pillow, I stared into the night, wondering where Regal was and if the family worried about me.
It was very dark but our eyes became accustomed to it and we could make out the dim outlines of the cabin, a shed, and a corral. Somewhere we could hear water running, from a spring or a branch, no doubt.
My eyes opened suddenly. I had slept, I do not know for how long. I could hear the breathing of Dorian Chantry, and somewhat father away, that of Archie. The night was still. Yet, what had awakened me?
Something, some sound, some ...
I listened, and seemed to hear something moving near me; there was a faint smell. Then the movement sound ceased, but the smell remained.
What was it? It smelled, faintly, like something wet and slimy. A crocodile? Or alligator? I doubted if there would be one this far north, but a body never knew, and they had been found in swamps and bayous off the Miss
issippi, but the smell was unlike what I would expect from them.
A wet smell, like a wet dog.
That was it! It was the smell of a wet dog, yet what would a dog be doing here, alone? Or was it alone? A dog was rarely a soliatry creature; dogs liked people, were happiest when with people.
My new rifle-gun lay beside me, my pistol was close to hand, the other Doune pistol was still in the carpetbag, also close by.
Something stirred among the leaves and I drew my pistol. I did not want to shoot, for a shot in the night can be heard a far piece, yet ...
A few stars were out. I could make out the shadows of things, and through the leaves I could see the silver gleam of the river. I listened, straining my ears. All was quiet.
I wanted to be at home. I wanted to be in my own bed, getting up in the morning to familiar chores. I wanted to sit and talk with ma, I wanted to sew, to darn socks, I wanted to behome!
I was tired of running, tired of being hunted, tired of being forever watchful. I wanted to sit with a cup of coffee beside me and watch the shadows lift from the hills of home.
Regal seemed far away now, and Finian Chantry was in another world. I wanted to be home, among decent folks, I wanted to stand beside Ma in church of a Sunday and sing one of the old hymns or maybe set by the fireside of a night and sing "Greensleeves," "Lord Lovell," "Black Jack Davy," or "Rickett's Hornpipe."
Something moved again, and I could just make him out. It was a dog, and he was lying near us, seeming to want company.
"It's all right, boy," I whispered. "Go to sleep now."
And I did.
Chapter 17
He was a shepherd dog, mostly black and brown but with some white on his chest and legs, and he looked like he'd been seeing hard times.
"Where'd he come from?" Dorian wanted to know.
"Joined us in the night. Looks like he's been missing some meals."
Archie was putting together a fire. "Coffee in a bit," he said, "and we can broil some meat."
The landing where we'd left the canoe was made of home-cut planks and was old, all gray and silvery and no place for a body to walk with bare feet. There was moss growing on the pilings and every sign it had been there for a long time.
What happened here? I wondered. It was a good place to live, with water and fine timber. Some fields had been cleared but lying unused for a long time now.
We fed the dog some scraps and when we climbed into the canoe he whined, wanting to come. Dorian looked over at me. "What do you think?"
"Why not?" I said, and Archie spoke to the dog and he hopped into the canoe like he'd ridden in one all his life.
"We may be stealing somebody's dog," Dorian said.
"He's homeless," Archie replied. "I can see it in him. Whoever his folks were, they're gone."
Dorian and Archie did most of the paddling but I'd spell first one, then t'other from time to time, giving them some rest. Once in a while there'd be a long straight stretch and we'd look back and see nothing. Nevertheless, I was worried.
"I'd like to ride this river down, sometime," Archie said, "get back some of the work I've put in goin' upriver."
"There's easier ways to go back," I said, thinking of the steamboats that sometimes came up the river from the Ohio to Nashville.
"I can't wait to get back," Dorian said, and I just looked at him, not wishing for him to go at all.
"Have you a girl back there?" I tried to keep my voice casual.
"A few," he said. "It's a wide field and I play the field."
Well, I told myself, that's better than if there was a particular one.
"We'll have you home soon," he added. "Right back with your folks where you belong. Then I'm catching the first stage, steamer, or whatever back to Philadelphia."
Archie glanced at me but he said nothing, nor did I. Maybe Dorian would be better off in Philadelphia. He did not look as handsome as when he started. His clothes were shabby now, and he hadn't shaved in several days. He always combed his hair real careful and he took time to clean up from time to time.
"Even with the water runnin' high," I said, "we're not goin' much further with this canoe. This turns into just water runnin' over rocks a mite further along."
It was that shep dog who saved us. We'd swung wide to come around some drift-logs and brush gathered at a bend of the creek when that dog suddenly come to his feet, every hair bristling, and he began to bark.
"Backwater!" I yelled, most unladylike, and my voice was drowned in the crashing thunder of rifles firing. I dug in with my paddle and Archie with his. A bullet shattered the paddle in my hands, another ripped the front of the canoe, then the current had us back behind that point of driftlogs, the current and Archie's quick reaction to my yell. There was another shot and then I heard swearing and somebody yelled, "... too soon, damn you!"
"Across the creek!" Archie spoke low but quick. "Into the trees!"
The river wasn't wide here and the current helped. For a moment we were visible from upstream and somebody shot, but the bullet missed and then we were back of a timbered point.
We beached the canoe and piled out. "Leave it!" I said.
"Are you hurt?" Dorian was staring at my wrist, which had been cut by flying splinters when the paddle was shot from my hands.
"A scratch," I said. "Let's get away from here!"
They had been laying for us, all set to mow us down, and that shep dog had saved our bacon. When he jumped up and went to barking, he evidently caused those hiding men to shoot too quick. If we'd been a canoe length further up the creek, they'd have killed us all.
We dragged the canoe ashore, taken up our goods and went into the forest.
We had been days on the water and had paid little mind to the forest we were passing through, but this was big timber, giant sycamores, blue beech, river birch, and clumps of black willow, with here and there a table of rhododendrons. There was a game trail taken off toward the mountains, and we taken it, with me leading.
Maybe it was forward of me, bein' a girl and all, but whilst Archie had a knowin' way about him, I didn't think Dorian when it came to trails would know come hither from go yonder, so totin' my bag and my rifle, I just headed off into the tall timber.
What I wanted was a place to hole up and make a stand. Whoever fired on us would be wanting to finish us off, and I didn't know how my outfit would do in an Injun fight amongst the trees. Back toward Pine Mountain there were rock formations, caves, and such. What I wanted was high ground with some rocks and timber, a place with a good field of fire.
I'd never been in a shootin' fight but once, when I was ten, when some raidin' Injuns had come through, but I'd heard Pa, Ethan, Regal, an' them talk about what was needed.
That trail didn't amount to much, but it was going our way and it was climbing along some limestone ridges and through the timber. Nor did the boys argue with me. They seemed to want to get shut of those folks back there just as bad as I did.
Who was it? How had they gotten ahead of us? Or was this Felix Horst with some of his old Natchez Trace outlaw friends?
"You'd better let me carry your carpetbag," Dorian suggested. "Or your rifle."
"Take the bag," I said. "Nobody carries my weapon but me."
Once, stopping to catch our breath after a climb through rocks and trees, I said, "We'd better do some thinkin'. They know where we're a-goin'. They'll cut across an' get ahead of us again. Somewhere up yonder they'll be waitin' for us."
"We lucked out this time," Archie said. "That won't happen again."
We rested there among the pines, watching the country below us. We were tired, and we were scared. I know I was, and Archie's face had a haunted look. Dorian, he was white under the flush the sun had been colorin' him with. Bein' hunted by men who want you dead is no way to live. If it hadn't been for that shep dog we'd all be dead. Where did he come from, out of the night like that? Whose dog was he? Looked to me like he'd been on his own a good while, and it might be his home was far from her
e.
"We've got to cut them down," I said, "make 'em understand there's a price to pay."
"You mean kill them?" Dorian was shocked.
"They're tryin' to kill us," I said.
"Your Uncle Finian sure wouldn't hesitate," Archie said. "That old man's a holy terror!"
Dorian looked around at him. "What do you mean? UncleFinian ?"
"He went down to the Dutchman's," Archie explained, then repeated the story of the fight in the street.
"Uncle Finian did that?"
"I was with him."
"I can't believe it! Uncle Finian!"
"I can believe it," I said. "That's a tough old gentleman. I could see it in him."
We moved on, Shep trotting ahead, and believe me, I felt better with that dog along. Why he adopted us, I'd never guess, but he surely had.
From time to time we saw deer, and we crossed the trail of a coon. It was coming on to night before we found a ledge masked by trees. It was above the trail we'd been following, and with a fine view of the way we'd come.
"It's a good place to sleep," Dorian said.
We were wearied by the long day, and nobody was of a mind to talk very much. There wasn't much left to eat, but we ate it cold, sharing a mite with the dog. We were on a ledge, a sort of notch in the rock wall, and it was a good tight spot.
"Somewhere yonder," I told them, "is a big ol' pine tree, stands by itself. They call that way the Trail of the Lonesome Pine."
They looked where I pointed, but neither had any comment. It was wild, lonesome country with the breaks of the Big Sandy lyin' close by. Right at that moment I wanted most of all just to be home.
We made us a fire you could put in a teacup, almost, and made coffee. When we'd had our coffee, we left the pot on the coals. "You all sleep," I said. "I'll keep watch."
"You?" Dorian said. "Of course not. You sleep. Archie and I will share it."
"There's three of us here," I insisted. "We'll take turn about. That dog's tired too. We shouldn't trust to him."
They slept first, and the wind came down through the pines, moaning a lonesome song. I went over to the little branch that flowed down from a crack in the limestone and had a drink; then I went back to a place I could set with my back against the rock wall and my rifle-gun on my knees.
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