THE MOCCASIN TRACKS THAT TOED-IN
"FIRE!"
Wildly Bob gave tongue, as he managed to draw on his garments. The
whole of the cabin's inmates appeared on the scene in answer to his
cries, and all of them filled with the gravest apprehensions.
There was no need to ask questions, for Bob had flown out of the door,
leaving it open behind him.
"Get buckets, and dip into the barrel!" shouted Mr. Armstrong.
Already had Bob started his work against the devouring flames, which
were licking up the side of the cabin, as though bent on destroying
the weeks of work on the part of the pioneers, in this one dreadful
half-hour.
Even Kate helped, finding some sort of pan in which she could carry
water, and dash it on the burning logs. Bob quickly saw that the barrel
would soon be exhausted at this rate. They must have a further supply
of water if they hoped to battle successfully with the greedy flames.
"Come with me to the spring, Sandy!" he cried huskily. "We must have
more water! This way, Mr. Brewster, with your bucket! And please run
with all your might!"
A neighbor had arrived on the scene, for the cries of the family as
they fought the devouring element had been heard, and there was no
need to ask what had happened, since the flames could be seen for some
distance.
Mr. Brewster had come up with his musket in one hand, and an empty
bucket gripped in the other. Thus he was prepared for almost anything
that might arise, for, with all this talk of an Indian uprising in the
air, it was only natural that he might suspect there would be need for
the firearm as well as the wooden pail.
The three hastened to the spring, in order to secure a further addition
to the supply of water. Before they had gone half way another figure
showed up, being a second neighbor who, like Mr. Brewster, had come
prepared to cope with any emergency. He joined the procession of
runners; and in this order they arrived at the spring, which was
located about eighty yards from the Armstrong cabin, and used by
several families in common.
Fortunately it was of some depth, so that quite a pool formed at its
"run-off." Here they filled their buckets, and started back just as
fast as they could go without spilling the contents.
Others began to arrive, for, as the clamor increased, every cabin in
the settlement yielded up its quota of eager assistants. In a little
community like this, where hundreds of miles separated them from
civilization, with untold perils surrounding them, the interest of one
must ever be the interest of all. They knew not what terrible danger
might be abroad; but, with the bold spirit that marked the early
pioneer, they sallied forth to grapple with whatever threatened.
And these men did yeoman service. Some slapped at the creeping
flames with garments that had been saturated with water; others beat
frantically with branches and bushes; while the few who had means for
carrying water dashed this natural enemy of fire on the flames.
Thus it was only a short time before they got the fire under control,
for many hands made light work. Some damage had been done, it is true,
and Mr. Armstrong would have to do more or less repairing to his cabin
ere it would be in as good shape as before the fire. Still, he and his
good wife felt that they had much for which to be grateful.
"How did it start?" asked old Anthony Brady.
There was latent suspicion in his voice, for he had seen that the fire
had all been on the outside, which would indicate that it certainly
could not have started in the interior from a smouldering brand falling
beyond the hearth, such as had been the case in one other alarm they
had had earlier in the season, before the cool nights had gone.
"I think I can make a guess," remarked Mr. Brewster, who had also been
looking about while actively engaged in fighting the devouring element.
"You can see that it was on the side where Mrs. Armstrong has her
soap-kettle. She must have left a bed of red ashes after rendering down
the bear fat with the lye, and, during the night, the wind swept some
of these against the logs. Perhaps there was a handful of dead leaves
to act as tinder; and the rest came easy."
"But," said Bob's mother, quickly, "I did not have a fire under the
soap-kettle yesterday, nor the day before. Indeed, it is a full week
now since I used it."
The men looked quickly at one another. They realized now that there
might be something more about this midnight burning than any of them
had ventured to imagine. Log cabins do not take fire so easily, in the
middle of the night, without some human agency back of the catastrophe.
"Come," said Anthony Brady, hoarsely, "this must be looked into. If
some wicked person put the torch to this cabin, we ought to find out
who he was, and punish him accordingly."
By this time there were fully a dozen men around, and nearly all of
them carried guns of some pattern, either the long rifles of the day,
or muskets that at close quarters were just as deadly.
Stern faces grew even more set as they heard their leader thus declare
himself. If a house-burner were abroad, then he must surely belong
to one of two species--for they could not imagine any but a sneaking
Indian, or a malicious French trapper, doing so mean a deed.
Several of the most expert trailers began to circle around at some
little distance from the cabin. They carried either rude horn lanterns,
or else burning torches of fat pine, with which each cabin was usually
well supplied, since candles were not plentiful in those days, and had
to be made, like the soap, from the surplus fat taken from some bear
that had been secured for food.
Bob and Sandy came together while thus employed.
"Did you hear what old Reuben Jacks said, Bob?" asked the older boy,
meaningly.
"You mean about that Frenchman, Armand Lacroix?" the other lad replied.
"Yes," Sandy went on, eagerly; "they hunted for him high and low, but
without success. Reuben believes that he, or one of his men, must have
done this out of revenge, because we defied him and took away the buck
when he had declared he meant to possess it."
"It may be so," Bob observed, thoughtfully. "I have heard so much about
the treachery and trickery of those traders from the north, that I
would not think it beyond one of them to try and burn a cabin in the
night. That man hates us both, and you particularly, because of the
way you held your gun at his head. I shall never forget how his black
eyes glittered as he looked at you on leaving. It was as if he wanted
to remember you for years to come."
"Listen! some one is calling!" exclaimed Sandy just then.
"It is old Reuben Jacks, and he has made some sort of discovery; or
else he would not lift his cracked voice in that shrill way. Come,
Sandy, let us run thither, and see what it may be."
The two boys, both of whom were now carrying their guns, even though
but partly dressed, made a dash toward the spot where the shouts went
up. They overtook several others; and in another minute quite a group
had gathered around the figure of the gaunt old woodranger.
"What is it, Reuben; what have you found to give tongue that way?"
demanded Anthony Brady, with authority in his heavy voice.
"Look, neighbors!" said the other, pointing down toward his feet.
"Footprints leading away from the cabin!" exclaimed one.
"And made by an Injun, too, for the toes turn in!" came from another.
"Reuben, you have made a valuable discovery," Brady remarked, after he
had himself bent over to examine the footprints in the soft soil, which
the keen and practised eye of the old man had detected. "An Indian has
been here after night set in; for you all remember there was just a
little rainfall at dark, and this trail has been made fresh since then."
"It is the track of the burner! Let us follow it, and punish the hand
that held the torch!" cried an excitable young man, waving his gun
above his head.
Bob and Sandy exchanged a quick glance; and the latter seemed to ask a
question of his brother, since Bob quickly remarked:
"No, this does not prove that we were wrong; for Lacroix may have been
in league with the Indians; and he could easily engage one of the red
men to come here to do his work for him. It may be that the torch of a
Pottawottomi or a Shawanee set fire to our cabin; but, Sandy, the hand
of a Frenchman was back of it!"
With Reuben in the van, half a dozen of the men started following
the fresh trail. They could have but little hope of coming upon the
culprit, unless the Indian might have hidden near by, wishing to enjoy
the confusion and wild alarm his wanton act had caused; but, since
they were so aroused, it might be just as well to scour the immediate
neighborhood in order to give vent to some of their enthusiasm.
A few of the settlers had gone home. They could not tell what this
midnight burning might signify. Perhaps other incendiaries were abroad,
and at any moment another fire would call for attention.
Every man was keyed up to a pitch where it would have gone hard with
any Indian or half-breed falling into his clutches just then. The
entire settlement was astir. Women had armed themselves, not knowing
but that a general attack might be forthcoming. And the wives and
daughters of these early Ohio pioneers were well fitted to be the
mates of the bold spirits that braved the unknown perils of the great
wilderness. Many of them could handle a gun almost as well as the men.
The tracking party had now entered the dense woods. They had been
warned by the older and more cautious members of the community to be
careful lest they fall into some cunning ambush. That plain trail may
have been left purposely in order to excite their anger, and bring
them under the guns of concealed enemies, who would shoot them down
without mercy.
This was Indian nature. Treachery went hand-in-hand with the war
tactics of the red men. They thought it no wrong to lure their foes
into a trap, and then slaughter them as wolves might be cut down.
Pontiac himself had shown how exceedingly clever and crafty a warfare
could be exercised against the white man.
At the important trading post of Michilimackinac hundreds of his
Indians, mostly Sacs and Chippewas, had been loitering around the fort
for days. On the king's birthday they had proceeded to celebrate by a
great game of ball.
The sport had been carried on with all the customary noise and
confusion; and the unsuspicious garrison allowed the players to rush
within the stockade when the ball, seemingly by accident, was knocked
over the high palisade.
Under their blankets many of the Indians carried muskets, with the
barrels sawed off short; while all had their tomahawks and knives. At
a given signal they fell upon the garrison, and, although a terrible
fight ensued, the surprise was complete, so that a massacre had
followed.
Nine other trading posts had fallen in much the same way, and the most
important of all, Detroit, had a close call, when the sachem Pontiac
laid siege with his allied tribes.
Although time had passed since these exciting days, the wily chieftain
still lived to plot new schemes for the destruction of the encroaching
whites. And never was his dreaded name mentioned in a weak border
settlement without a shudder.
This was why the older men had warned the more hotheaded to be careful
lest they run into an ambuscade; for it was a favorite trick among the
Indians to lure rash settlers away from the shelter of their stockade
by some such stratagem, and then fall upon them in overpowering numbers.
Clouds hid the moon from sight, but, only for dense foliage of the
forest trees, the night would hardly be called dark. There were just
seven in the band that pushed through the woods, following that trail.
Old Reuben, at the head, held his blazing and smoking pine torch
low, so that his eagle eyes might keep track of the imprint of those
moccasins that toed-in. Behind him came the others, with guns ready
for immediate use, and eyes trying to pierce the gloom that loomed up
ahead like a black wall.
No doubt after a time, when they had cooled down somewhat, a more
sensible view of the situation would come over these eager trailers.
Finding that the Indian had headed straight away from the settlement,
they must realize the folly of trying to follow him further in the
perilous night time, and retrace their steps back home.
Once they heard a crash, as some frightened wild animal floundered
through the bushes ahead. It must have been a prowling bear, for no
other creature would make so great a noise. Again their alert ears,
that could pick up the faintest sounds, caught the snort of a deer that
may have been viewing the advance of these strange fireflies through
the woods until they came too near for comfort, and then fled swiftly
with tremendous bounds.
Each time the men had gripped their guns, thinking that something was
about to occur; but only once more to relax the nervous strain.
"I surely saw something move ahead, Bob!" exclaimed Sandy, who was
alongside his brother in the forward movement.
"Where?" asked the other, quickly; while the nearest neighbor cocked
his head to listen, half raising his musket menacingly.
"Over there where that tree hangs down across the way," replied Sandy,
pointing with his gun.
"Well, we must soon know whether it means anything," replied Bob, "for
we are headed that way right now."
"Look! look! it must be a man; and he is waving a white flag to us! He
does not want us to fire upon him at sight!" cried Sandy, a few seconds
later.
"Yes, you are right," declared his brother.
Of course the attention of all the members of the tracking party had
now been attracted toward the moving object, which every one could see
was a piece of white cloth being waved up and down. They changed their
course just a little, and headed in a bunch for the spot.
"Be careful, lads!" said old Reuben. "Nobody kin tell what the sly
critters may be up to. Keep yer hands on yer triggers, but don't shoot
till I give the word. Unless I'm mightily mistaken, that arm is an
Injun's. Spread out a leetle, lads. He wants us to get closer still,
afore he gives over wavin' that rag. Thar! he's dropped the thing!
Easy now, and wait! Ha!"
As the old woodranger gave vent to this last exclamation, the unseen
party who had been signalling to them from behind the big oak, suddenly
stepped into view, holding both hands above his head in token of amity.
Both Bob and Sandy uttered cries of astonishment.
"Why," cried the latter, "see Bob, it's our friend, Blue Jacket!"