“Dutch rum an’ fire-water, it’s happy I am y’er back!” Tom Fish exclaimed.
“What has happened, John?” asked Ree in his usual quiet way, grasping his friend’s hand.
“What ain’t happened? It beats me as I ain’t ever been beat yet,” Tom Fish made answer.
“It was another of those mysterious shots, Ree—the very morning you left us,” said John, putting his hand affectionately on his chum’s arm.
“Another?” Ree spoke more to himself than to either John or Tom, and something made him think of Big Pete Ellis and the fellow’s threats.
“It was the same sort of a shot as before, but in broad daylight,” John answered. “We had just got the cart down into this gully and were preparing to get it up the other side, when we heard a rifle shot and—old Jerry fell dead. I saw the smoke curling out from the bushes just half a minute later, and Tom and I both ran back up the hill. But there was no one near. We did find a trail but it was mingled with the tracks of the horse and cart, and the snow being gone, we could not follow it. For miles around the woods seemed as quiet as a Sunday at home. We looked all about but—”
“Only one thing is plain, some Mingo or somebody has a grudge ag’in ye, or else there’s been some consarned queer coincidences,” broke in Tom Fish. “It beats me!”
“I don’t see what we are to do, Ree! Tom and I decided just to wait here until you came back. But what have you been doing? Why, your hands and face are frightfully scratched, and you look all played out!”
“I guess I’ve had my hands full,” said Ree with a sad little smile. “But tell me where you two were. Why is there no fire?”
“Such a time as we have had!” was John’s sorrowful answer. “Poor old Jerry was scarcely dead before there were hawks or buzzards circling around above us, and when night came, wolves and other animals howled all around us, and so near we would have been afraid, had we not had a big fire. Toward morning it became quieter and I was asleep, and Tom on watch, when a bear came poking around.”
“Biggest bear ye ever seen,” interrupted Thomas Fish.
“Well,” John went on, “we both set out after that bear, though it was pitch dark. We had a long chase for nothing, though, for we caught sight of the big fellow only once, and not long enough to get a shot at him. Coming back, it was light, and we stopped to explore the gully. But we did not expect to find you here, Ree. We would not have come back when we did, only to keep the buzzards away from the horse till we can burn the body. And I don’t see what we are to do. But you haven’t told a word about yourself.”
Ree was busily thinking, and for a little time made no answer. Then Tom and John spoke again, asking where he had been and what he had found.
“Why, I’ll tell you,” he answered them. “I came upon a first-class place for a cabin, on a bluff right at the bank of a splendid little river, and a little natural clearing around it. About five minutes later I came upon some Delaware Indians and as they wouldn’t believe me when I told them who I was, they made me a prisoner. I got away in the night, and here I am.”
John’s eyes opened wide, and excitedly he demanded to know all the particulars of Ree’s adventure. Tom Fish whistled a long, low note and almost closing his eyes, he looked toward Ree with a squint which was more expressive of his astonishment and interest than words could have been.
As the three of them sat on the thills of the now useless cart, Ree told them more fully of his experiences. Many were John’s outbursts of interest, and Tom whistled in his peculiar way more than once.
“Can’t more than kill us, and we may as well die that way as starve to death,” said the old hunter, as Ree spoke of the probability of the Indians soon finding their camp, and straightway he began preparations for breakfast. As they gathered about the savory meal which soon was ready, the conversation turned again to the mysterious attack which had ended the life of their horse.
John could not be persuaded that it was not some prowling Indian who had fired the shot, but Ree urged both him and Tom to be on their guard constantly and he would be the same, he said, for there was no knowing when another bullet might come whizzing toward them, nor when one of their own lives might not be thus snuffed out.
As breakfast was finished, John and Tom pleaded with Ree that he should lie down and get some rest, but he took a cold bath in the brook close by, instead, and would not listen to them further. All three were keeping their eyes open to detect the approach of Indians, for they did not doubt the savages would soon come, especially since the re-kindling of the fire had sent a stream of smoke steadily skyward, and now this signal of their whereabouts was made all the more plain by the building of a much larger fire upon and about the body of the unfortunate horse.
“Let them come,” was the confident declaration of Return Kingdom, as Tom Fish had suggested that the savages could not be far away. “We will meet them as friends,” he went on, “and I honestly believe that when they find that we are peaceable traders, there will be no trouble whatever.”
Tom whistled and squinted as Ree took this bold stand, but he had learned that the boy “had a long head,” and made no further remonstrance against the plan proposed.
About noon the savages arrived. John discovered a dark face peering out from some bushes on the bluff, and waved his hand in that direction in a friendly way. The searching eyes instantly disappeared. It required courage to follow the program Ree had mapped out, now when it was known that vengeful and cruel Delawares were lurking so near, themselves fully protected by the bank and brush, and trees; but when, a few minutes later Ree saw an Indian looking down at them, and the fellow put down his gun as a sign of friendliness, they knew they had acted wisely.
Notwithstanding the show of friendliness, however, Tom Fish said: “Keep your wits about ye, kittens, there ain’t no snake in the woods as treacherous as them varmints.”
Two savages were soon seen coming down the path, and Ree and John, laying down their guns, as the Indians had done, walked forward to meet them. Thus peace was secured for the time being, at least, and as the boys shook hands with the Redskins, the latter gave them to understand that their chief was in waiting to be met and conducted to the camp.
Ree went to the cart and secured from their stock of merchandise a small hand-mirror in a round, pewter frame with a pewter lid over it, and with this for a present to the chief, he and John were guided to a spot not far away where the savage warrior and his braves were assembled. He was a tall muscular young fellow and would have been handsome had it not been for a look of malicious cunning and wickedness in his small dark eyes. But the gift of the mirror pleased his savage fancy greatly and he accepted it with a show of friendliness.
There were eleven Indians in the party. John could not repress a smile when he saw the singed hair and burned face of the young brave whom Ree had knocked into the fire, but even Kingdom failed to recognize the savage with whom he had battled for his very life alone in the darkness. By sign or otherwise neither of the boys made any reference to the adventure of the day and night before, but with perfect friendliness conducted the Indians to their camp.
Tom Fish’s spirits had grown lighter when he saw that a fight would be avoided and he greeted each Indian in his happy-go-lucky fashion.
“You’re a good un,” he said to the chief. “Got a little muscle, too, ain’t ye? Ain’t no religion in that eye o’ your’n, though!”
And so it went with the whole party. As he noticed the buck who was burned Tom laughed aloud. “Pretty near took the hide off, didn’t it, Smart Alec?” he exclaimed. “Doubled ye up like a two-bladed jack-knife, I should guess. Oh, these here boys are frisky! No foolin’ with them!”
John laughed at this, but no one took heed of him except Tom, who laughed boisterously, as he always did when anyone showed an appreciation of his crude jokes.
Almost immediately upon reaching the camp the Indians asked for “fire-water,” but Ree shook his head. It was true that in one of the several
packages of goods there was a large stone bottle of whiskey which Capt. Bowen had provided for the boys together with other medicines, but not for a great deal would Kingdom have let the Indians know it; and he hoped that Tom would not find it out, either; for the truth was that Fish had drunk more than was good for him at Pittsburg. But all the savages ate of the meat which was placed before them, and Tom Fish, never neglecting an opportunity of this kind, made out a square meal also. The boys joining in, too, there was quite a feast.
One of the Indians, a good looking young buck, showed for Ree a warmer friendship than any of the others. He was the one whom the boy had mistaken for the chief of the party the day before. His name was Fishing Bird and the chief’s name was Big Buffalo. The latter was far from showing entire friendship and a dispute arose between these two savages when Ree told them that he and John wished to purchase land.
Fishing Bird indicated that the boys must go to the great chief of their tribe, Hopocon, or Captain Pipe, as the whites called him, at the village of the Delawares. Big Buffalo, on the other hand, contended that he himself had power to sell land.
Ree rightly judged as he saw an ugly feeling between these two, that he had made a serious mistake when he had mistaken Fishing Bird for the chief the day before, arousing the other’s jealousy very much. He thought now, that he recognized in Fishing Bird the Indian with whom he had grappled in the forest. If this were true, it was evident that that Indian, unwilling to confess how he had been vanquished, had said nothing to the others of his struggle with the escaped prisoner.
However, seeing that the land question might cause trouble, both Ree and John dropped it, having learned from the savages that a day’s journey to the south and west would take them to the Delawares’ town. They determined, therefore, to visit the village of Captain Pipe and talk with the great chief himself.
The afternoon was nearly spent before the Indians departed. They were scarcely gone when Tom Fish called Ree and John to him and the boys noticed for the first time that a great change had come over the old hunter, who for some time had little or nothing to say.
“Did ye see that fresh scalp hangin’ at that Buffalo varmint’s belt?” he asked. “That means blood. It means fightin’! I’ve seen many a Redskin, but I never seen a wickeder one than that Buffalo. An’ there’s no more play for Thomas Trout, which some calls Fish, my kittens, both! I tell ye now, that from what I seed, there was nothin’ kept us out of a fight this day but the friendliness o’ that chap Fishin’ Bird. If Big Buffalo had a’ dared, he’d a’ pitched onto us. Them’s my honest sentiments; an’ more’n that, did ye see the scalp at that red devil’s belt? Don’t tell me they ain’t been on the warpath! Did ye see that scalp, an’ the blood on it hardly more ’n dry? Oh, sorry day! Oh, sorry day—the blood on it hardly more’n dry. ’Cause I’m a plagued sight mistaken, kittens both, if I don’t know whose scalp that is! Oh, sorry day!”
Tom’s voice had sunk almost to a whisper and involuntarily John shuddered. The sinking sun cast thick, dark shadows in the narrow valley, and a death-like silence was broken only by the soughing wind and the tinkle of the brook.
These melancholy surroundings and the gruesome way in which Tom spoke, were enough to remove all cheerfulness which might have existed, but Tom said again, slowly and with a mournful emphasis, “I know—I know whose scalp it is, lads; an’ the blood on it hardly more’n dry.”
The rough woodsman put his arm across his eyes and leaned mournfully on his rifle, as he spoke.
* * *
CHAPTER X.
A Night With the Indians.
To shut out from his thoughts the horrid memory of the bloody scalp at Big Buffalo’s belt, Ree turned and busied himself with the fire, which had burned quite low, and soon a roaring blaze was leaping skyward, shedding good cheer around.
The woodsman still stood leaning on his rifle, a look of sadness on his face such as was seldom seen there. If John had noticed this he might not have asked in the tone in which he did:
“Well, whose scalp is it?”
“It ain’t your’n, kitten, an’ ye can be glad o’ that.”
“Shucks! How can you tell whose it might have been? How could anybody tell?” asked the boy.
Tom made no reply, and Ree deftly changed the subject by saying that one of them had better stand guard that night. He expected no trouble with the Indians, but he was not willing to be caught napping by the unknown foe whose work had now cost the life of their horse.
Tom was gloomy all the evening as they sat before the fire, but he told the boys of the great chief of the Delaware’s, Hopocon, or Capt. Pipe, and reminded them that he was one of the Indians who were responsible for the burning of Col. Crawford at the stake eight years earlier.
That and other stories of this noted chief made the boys curious to see him, and anxious to put themselves on friendly terms with him. It was decided that the next day they should visit the Delaware town and make arrangements for securing land. Without a horse they could move their goods only with great labor, and they were desirous of knowing just where they were taking their property, therefore, before they undertook to move it from their present camp.
“Guess I will stay an’ watch here, whilst you youngsters go to see Capt. Pipe,” said Tom, as the subject was under discussion. “I might not be as peaceful as a little lamb—plague take their greasy skins! Not if I clapped my eyes on that Buffalo critter ag’in!”
“Look a-here, Tom,” Ree answered, earnestly. “We boys are on a peaceable mission and we don’t want to get into trouble on your account. We know that the horrible sight of that scalp, and your belief that you know from where it came, has made you want revenge, but John and I have had no special trouble with the Delawares and it would be very foolish, situated as we are, for you or any of us to start a fight with them now.”
“I see all that—I ain’t so blind! But—” Tom did not finish the sentence. Instead he began talking of other things and advised the boys to take every precaution against being treacherously dealt with when they should find Big Buffalo at his own home—the Delaware town.
It was a windy, cloudy morning that found Ree and John tramping through the valleys and over the hills of a fine, thickly wooded country toward the Indian village. Early in the afternoon they came to a sloping hillside beyond which lay a swampy tract grown up to brush and rushes. Close by was a beautiful little lake and at the opposite side the smoke was rising from the town of the Delaware tribe of Indians.
As the boys approached the water, planning to walk around the lake, they were discovered by three Indians in a canoe, which seemed almost to spring out of the water, so quickly did it appear from around a bushy point. The savages headed directly toward the boys, without a sound.
The lads laid down their rifles as a sign of friendliness, and in another minute a swift stroke of a paddle grounded the Indians’ craft upon the beach. The Redskins bounded ashore and with some reluctance shook hands with the boys.
Without loss of time Ree gave them to understand that he wished them to inform their chief, Hopocon, or Capt. Pipe, that two young Palefaces were waiting to call on him, and tell of their friendly wish to buy some land of the Delawares, and that they would remain where they were while he should send a canoe to carry them over.
None of the three Indians had been in the party of the previous day, but they seemed readily to comprehend what was desired of them and turned to go.
One of the Redskins, quite a young fellow, lingered behind. After the other two had taken their places in the canoe he pushed it out into deep water, then he made a running jump to leap, aboard. He might have done so very nicely, had he not slipped just as he jumped. As it was, he went sprawling in the water most ridiculously.
The other Indians grunted derisively. John laughed heartily and Ree smiled, amused to see the proud young buck get just such a ducking as he deserved for trying to “show off.”
However, the lithe young fellow seized the canoe and was safely
in it in a very brief space of time. Soon it was far out on the lake, rocking and dancing lightly as a feather on the fierce little waves, which a strong wind was blowing up.
Ree and John made themselves comfortable on the grassy bank beside the water, and waited. It seemed a long time until they saw a canoe coming for them. The fact was, and the boys shrewdly surmised it, that Capt. Pipe, or Hopocon, desirous of impressing the strangers with his greatness, purposely kept them waiting awhile.
The canoe sent for the boys was manned by two of the Indians they first met, and the lads were taken aboard. Although frail in appearance, the light little craft was capable of carrying seven or eight persons. It was made of the bark of a bitter-nut hickory, and was the first of the kind in which the Connecticut lads had ever ridden. They quickly found that they must aid in keeping the canoe balanced to prevent its upsetting, and their efforts to do this, before they caught the knack of it, rather amused the Indians.
In a short time, however, the canoe touched shore before the Indian town and the Paleface visitors were conducted at once to the council house. This was a long low building, its lower part being built of logs but its sides and roof being of bark. It was open at one end, and at the other end skins were hung up to shut out the wind. In the center of the rude structure, whose floor was only the hard-trodden earth, was a fire, the smoke escaping through a large hole in the roof.
All these things were observed by the boys in time, but first to attract their notice as they entered, were the Indians, especially one of great size—elderly and very dignified, seated on a bear skin spread over a mat of bark. He shook hands with each as they stepped up, saying only “How.”
Ree answered in the same fashion but John was so flustrated that he stammered: “How do you do, sir?” in a manner which bored him a great deal, as Ree jokingly recalled the circumstance long afterward.
But Capt. Pipe knew from the lad’s tone that he spoke respectfully and it pleased him. Other Indians seemed to feel the same, and the several minor chiefs and medicine men who were present, shook hands with the boys with a great show of dignity and formality. Then the young traders stated the object of their visit and were shown to a seat opposite Capt Pipe and pipes were brought out. They all smoked, the boys soon discovering that it was not tobacco but “kinnikinick”—the inner bark of young willow sprouts dried and pulverized—which was in the pipes.
Far Past the Frontier Page 8