As the hour grew late Ree and John went to the barn to see that their cart and horse had been properly cared for, and returning, went immediately to bed. For half an hour they lay awake talking of their journey. Their money was between them in the big four-poster and each had a pistol within reach. At last they said “Good night” to one another, and settling themselves in comfortable positions, composed themselves to sleep.
All had grown quiet about the old tavern. The ticking of the big clock down stairs, and the baying of a hound off in the woods somewhere, were the only sounds which reached the ears of the young emigrants. And thus they forgot their travels and where they were, and the danger which hovered near.
It was sometime after midnight when Ree was suddenly awakened. He had heard no sound, nor could he tell what had disturbed his slumber; but he had instantly found himself, eyes wide open, every sense alert. Without the slightest noise or movement he lay listening. A minute later he felt for just an instant the touch of something cold against his skin.
“A snake,” was his first thought, and a little thrill of horror crossed him as the idea of a reptile being in their bed, flashed over his brain. Again he felt the touch, cold and clammy against his side; and, intending to grab the serpent, if such it was, and hurl it from the bed, with a quick movement of his arm he made a desperate grab. He caught and for but an instant held a human hand, large and coarse.
“John!” Ree spoke the name with startled emphasis, and its owner rose up in bed like a flash.
“What? What is it?”
“There is some one in this room! He has been reaching into the bed, trying to rob us.”
As he spoke Ree sprang out upon the floor. “And here’s the window open! That shows where he came in. Get your pistol and be ready to fire if he tries to jump out. I am going to skirmish for the rascal!”
Faint rays of moonlight made the room not entirely dark, but Ree could see no sign of the intruder as he stepped softly to the middle of the floor. It was a useless action; for, as he was between the three dark walls and the window in the outer wall, the robber could easily see him without being seen himself. It was a fault of Return Kingdom’s that he did not properly consider his own safety, and the wonder is that he did not in this instance become the target for a bullet.
“I’d better yell for help,” suggested John.
“You’d better not!” said Ree emphatically, peering into the dark corners. “I cannot be mistaken, but if I should be—well we don’t care to be laughed at.”
Not a sound was heard as both boys remained perfectly quiet. Then on tip-toe Ree went to all the corners of the room, his left hand outstretched before him while his right held a pistol ready for instant use.
“John, did you sneeze?” he demanded as a smothered “kerchoo” came from the direction of his friend.
“He’s under the bed, Ree! He’s under the bed! Call help!” This was John’s answer and his tone was sharp with excitement.
In a trice Ree was at the foot of the bed and looking beneath it. A dark object there moved slightly.
“Come out of that!” Ree sternly demanded, and the click of his pistol as he cocked the weapon sounded loud and clear. At the same moment the object beneath the four-poster began to crawl and soon coming forth, stood erect—the stranger the boys had met at supper.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” ejaculated Ree with an inflection of contempt in his voice; but the next instant the intruder’s hands were about his throat.
“Help! Help!” yelled John Jerome.
Finding the young man he had seized, a much harder problem than he was prepared to handle, and frightened by John’s cries, the stranger gave Ree a shove and sprang toward the window.
“Help! Robbers!” yelled John again, and now the stranger had one leg out of the window. But he got no further. Ree seized him about the body; the robber seized him in turn, and his foot striking the ladder by which he had climbed up, it went tumbling to the ground. With a frightful oath the fellow endeavored to throw Ree after it. For a second they both balanced on the window sill at the very verge of falling. Then John seized the robber’s hair, and dealt him a blow with the butt of his pistol. He raised the weapon to strike again, but Ree had now secured his release from the villain’s grasp and fired at him just as the fellow plunged to the ground, leaving a bunch of his black hair quivering in John’s hand.
The bullet took effect, for the boys found blood on the ground beneath the window next morning; but the robber dashed around a corner out of range at such speed that there was no opportunity to fire a second time.
A pounding on the door told the youthful travelers that the house had been aroused, and they lost no time in admitting the landlord, accompanied by the greatly excited peddler.
“What’s all the row about?” demanded the tavern-keeper, holding a lighted candle over his shoulder.
“I want to investigate before I say what it is all about,” Ree answered, emphasizing the “all.”
“A pretty sort of a place, this is!” put in John indignantly. “We might have been murdered in our beds!”
“How can I help it, boy? Just you keep your breeches on!”
“I’ll have to put them on first,” John ejaculated, and forthwith proceeded to do so.
Ree took the landlord’s candle and turned back the bed clothing. He found the leather wallet containing their money, undisturbed, but as he picked it up, he noticed a hole in the sheets and tick of the bed.
“Look, here,” he exclaimed, “here is where the row you complain of, began. The man who has just gone out of the window, evidently crawled under the bed and having cut a hole through the tick, reached for our wallet. His cold hand on my bare skin waked me up. The question is, how did he know where the money was?”
“The skunk!” exclaimed the peddler, eyeing the tavern-keeper sharply.
“How should I know anything about it?” the landlord hotly responded. “I ain’t responsible for there being robbers about, am I?”
Ree had joined John in the task of dressing, while the proprietor of the establishment sat on the bed, the least concerned of any, over what had taken place.
“Haow should yeow know anythin’ about it?” cried the peddler suddenly turning toward the man. “Why, yeow ain’t even asked who the thief was! Yeow wouldn’t ’a come up stairs if I hadn’t ’most dragged ye! It looks consarned strange, that’s what I say! An’ yeow settin’ there like a stick, sayin’, ‘Haow kin I help it!’”
The landlord winced and squirmed, and was glad enough to hurry down stairs when Ree said authoritatively: “Now let’s have no further talk about this matter, but get our breakfasts at once, if you please. It will soon be daylight.”
“Ree Kingdom, you make me mad!” cried John Jerome, as the landlord disappeared. “Why didn’t you let me crack that old villain on the head? If I didn’t know that you are the only one here who has kept cool, I’d be mad in earnest. If any of our goods have been disturbed, I’ll show the old Tory!”
Ree smiled at his friend’s blustering tone, but the peddler slapped him on the back and told him he was a “reg-lar man-o’-war with flags a-flyin’.”
The gray glimmer of dawn was in sight as the boys crossed the road to the barn and by the light of the tallow candle in the old-time lantern, inspected their cart and horse. All was secure. Recognizing his young masters by the fine instinct some animals have, Jerry, their horse, whinnied loudly, as though saying he was all right but ready to move as soon as convenient. Hay and grain were given the faithful animal, and the boys went in to their own breakfast.
The meal of potatoes and bacon was soon disposed of, the peddler sitting at the table with them. He was going in their direction for a mile or two and would accompany the lads, he said.
“We’ll be glad to have you,” Ree answered.
“Whatever Ree Kingdom says, I say—only he always gets the words out first,” said John. “I am like the old trapper who came hurrying up to General Washington saying h
e could lick all the Redcoats on earth with one hand tied behind his back. But the war was all over then, though he did not know it, and so he didn’t get a chance to try. He meant well, you see, but was a little behind hand.”
“That’s a pert yarn,” smiled the peddler, “an’ there ain’t nobody gladder than I be tew see yeow so chipper; but I swan, lads, I only hope ye’ll be as jolly as ye be naow, come six months—I only hope ye will be!”
* * *
CHAPTER V.
A Mysterious Shot in the Darkness.
“I am going to keep my eyes open for that cut-throat that was under the bed. There’s no telling what he might not do,” said John with quiet determination, to Ree, when the peddler had left them and they were fairly under way for the journey of another day.
“I have thought of that,” Ree answered, “and you see I have put the rifles where they will be handy. There is no use of carrying them, I guess, but the time is coming when they must always be within reach.”
The peddler had accompanied the boys to a cross-roads a couple of miles from the Eagle tavern, enlivening them with many odd tales of his experiences. Now they were alone again, and as the country through which they passed became rougher and wilder, the lads realized more fully than ever that theirs was a serious undertaking.
Yet they were happy. The trees were putting on bright colors; the air was fragrant with the odor of autumn vegetation. The water in every stream they crossed was fresh and clear, and fall rains had made green the woodland clearings. Quail called musically from time to time, and once the “Kee-kee-keow-kee-kee” of a wild turkey was heard.
At noon, beside a dashing brook which tumbled itself over a stony bed as though in glee with its own noisiness, the travelers halted. They unhitched Jerry that he might graze, and kindled a fire to boil some eggs. These with brown bread, a generous supply of which Mrs. Catesby had given them, and ginger cake which Mary Catesby had announced she had made with her own hands, made a meal which anyone might have relished. To the boys, their appetites sharpened by the fine air, every morsel they put between their lips seemed delicious.
“We won’t long have such fare,” they reminded one another.
“We will have venison three times a day though,” said John.
“Yes, we will have so much meat we will be good and tired of it; because we must be saving of our meal this winter, and until our own corn grows,” Ree answered thoughtfully.
“Well, don’t be so melancholy about it, Old Sobersides,” cried John. “Why, for my part, I could just yell for the joy of it when I think how snug we will be in our cabin this winter! And what a fine time we are going to have choosing a location and building our log house!”
“That, as I have so often said,” Ree answered, “is the one thing about our whole venture that I do not like. We will be ‘squatters.’ We won’t own the land we settle upon except that we shall have bought it of the Indians; and that is a deed which the government will not recognize. But we will have to take our chances of making our title good when the time comes, though we may have to pay a second time to the men or company, or whoever secures from the government the territory where we shall be. Or we might settle near enough to General Putnam’s colony to be able to buy land of them. We must wait and see what is best to do.”
“Ree,” said John, earnestly, “I know you are right; you always are. But I don’t like to think of those things—only of the hunting and trapping and fixing up our place, and eating wild turkey and other good things before our big fire-place in winter—and all that. You see we will have to sort of balance each other. You furnish the brains, and I’ll do the work.”
“Oh that sounds grand, but—” Ree laughed and left the sentence unfinished.
When, by the sun, their only time-piece, the boys judged they had been an hour and a half in camp, they resumed their journey. They had secured so early a start that morning, that they had no doubt they would reach the Three Corners, the next stopping-place designated on Captain Bowen’s map, before night; and indeed it lacked a half hour of sundown when they drove up to the homely but pleasant tavern at that point. It was so different a place from the Eagle tavern that the boys had no fear when they went to bed, that the unpleasant experience of the night before would be repeated.
Several days followed unmarked by any special incident, except that the lads were delayed and a part of their goods badly shaken up by their cart upsetting into a little gully. Fortunately, however, little damage was done.
At the end of two weeks so thinly settled a country had been reached that nearly every night was spent in camp. Yet these were not disagreeable nor was there much danger. Only one man who answered the general description of a “cut-throat” had been seen, and he seemed inclined to make little trouble. He rode out on a jet black horse from a barn, near which a house had at one time stood, its site still marked by charred logs and a chimney. Perhaps it had been burned in the war-time; at any rate the place had a forsaken, disagreeable appearance, and the rough-looking stranger emerging suddenly from the barn, put the young emigrants on their guard at once.
For two hours the man rode in company with the boys, and finding out who they were, proposed to spend the night with them. Ree would have permitted it, but by his actions John so plainly gave the fellow to understand what he thought of him, that the stranger at last rode back in the direction he had come, cursing John for the opinions which the latter had expressed. The boys slept with “one eye open” that night.
Daily the road became worse and worse. For great distances it was bordered on both sides by forests and the country was rough and broken. There were wild animals and, undoubtedly, Indians not far away, but the settlements were yet too near for the young travelers to have much fear. So when their camp fire had burned low in the evening, they piled on large sticks of wood, put their feet to the blaze, and, wrapped in their blankets, slept splendidly. One night when it rained—and the water came down in torrents—they made their bed inside the cart; but if the weather was pleasant they preferred to be beside the glowing coals.
An adventure which had an important bearing on the future, befell the boys early in the fourth week of their travels. They had resolved to be saving of their ammunition, and wasted no powder in killing game for which they had no use, though they twice saw wild turkeys and once a bear, as they left civilization farther and farther behind. But when provisions from home began to run low, it happened, as so often it does, that when they felt the need of game to replenish their larder they chanced upon scarcely any.
“One of us must go through the woods, keeping in line with the road, and shoot something or other this afternoon,” said Ree, at dinner one day. “The other will not be far away when he returns to the road again.”
“Which?” John smiled.
“I don’t care. You go this time and I will try my luck another day,” Ree answered. “Get a couple of turkeys, if you can, old boy; or, if you can get a deer, the weather is cool and the meat will keep.”
So John set off, planning to work his way into the woods gradually and then follow the general direction of the road and come out upon it sometime before sun-set. He waved his hand to Ree, a smile on his happy freckled face as he disappeared amid the timber.
Slowly old Jerry plodded on; slowly the miles slipped to the rear; slowly the time passed. Ree thought of many things during the afternoon and planned how he and John should spend the winter hunting and trapping and secure, he hoped, a large quantity of furs. Two chests they had were filled with goods for trade with the Indians, also, and they would receive skins in return. These would add greatly to the store they themselves accumulated, and they should realize a considerable sum when they came to market them. Ree hoped so. It was no part of his plan to go into the forest fastnesses merely to hunt and trap and lead a rough life. No, indeed! He wished to make a home, to grow up with the country and “be somebody.”
Lower and lower the sun sank behind the darkness of the trees which seemed to
rise skyward in the western horizon, and as the early October twilight approached, Ree began to watch for John’s coming. He had listened from time to time but had heard no gun discharged, and he laughed to himself as he thought what John’s chagrin would be if he were obliged to come into camp empty-handed. And when Old Sol, slipped out of sight and his chum had not appeared, he inwardly commented: “You went farther into the woods than was good for you, my boy! I suspect I have already left you a good ways behind.”
So he drove to a little knoll beneath an old oak, and unhitched. He kindled a fire, then busied himself straightening up some of the boxes and bundles which had slipped from position during the day, often stopping to look back along the trail in hope of seeing John; and when the darkness had become so dense he could see but a few rods from the camp-fire and still his chum was missing, alarm invaded Ree’s thoughts. He could not imagine what detained the boy. But he toasted some bread and broiled some bacon for his supper.
A sense of loneliness over his solitary meal added to Ree’s anxiety, because of John’s non-appearance, and presently he walked back along the road a considerable distance, whistling the call they had adopted years before. The darkness gave every object an unnatural, lifelike look; bushes and tree trunks assumed fantastic shapes. No human habitation was within miles of the spot, and as the echoes of the whistling died away and no answer came, Ree was almost frightened. Not for himself but on John’s account was he conscious of a gloomy foreboding in all his thoughts. What should he do if the boy had fallen a victim of some bear, perhaps, or lawless men.
Slowly he retraced his steps to the campfire’s light. Weighing the whole question carefully, however, as to whether he had not better go in search of his friend, he decided he could do no wiser thing than to remain where he was until daylight; then if John had not arrived, he would set out to find him.
Piling more wood on the fire that the light might help to guide John to camp, the lonely boy wrapped a blanket about his shoulders and sat down, resolved to remain awake to watch and listen. He heard only the soughing wind and old Jerry nibbling the short grass nearby, and the hooting of an owl in the forest gloom. Thus an hour passed, and then suddenly a sound of soft footsteps broke upon the boy’s ear. Was it John slipping up stealthily to try to scare him? Ree thought it was, but in another instant he detected the foot-falls of more than one person, and sprang to his feet.
Far Past the Frontier Page 4