BLUE JACKET'S WARNING
"SHOOT the cabin burner!"
"He made the tracks we've been following! A rope would come in handy!"
"The sneaking hound, to turn on the boys who saved his life! But it's
only what we ought to expect from an Injun!"
"He ought to be made meat for the crows, men!"
These angry exclamations arose from the group of settlers as they saw
who was coming from behind the giant oak. Both Bob and Sandy, however,
never for a moment dreamed of suspecting the young Indian brave of
being concerned in the recent outrage.
They had found him seriously wounded at the time of the arrival of the
emigrants on the Ohio. True, his hurts had doubtless been received
during the preceding attack upon the camp of the pioneers, but the two
boys did not let that influence them.
Something seemed to draw them to Blue Jacket, and they had nursed him
tenderly in the new cabin, until one night he had vanished. The older
settlers, who did not believe that a true heart could beat under a red
skin, were loud in their declaration that the boys had only nursed a
snake that would come back to sting them.
But, when Sandy was captured and carried away to the Shawanee village,
it was by the aid of Blue Jacket that his release was finally
accomplished.
Since that day they had seen more or less of the young Indian. He
occasionally turned up at the Armstrong cabin, to spend a few days with
his white friends, of whom he seemed very fond; then he would vanish in
a mysterious way without saying good-bye, to once more reappear, weeks
later, always bringing in a deer, or a wild turkey, as a present for
the sweet little mother who reigned as queen of the frontier cabin.
(Note 4.)
Sandy, more impetuous than his brother, though not any more fond of the
young Indian, hearing these hasty and ugly remarks, immediately sprang
forward, and, placed himself in front of Blue Jacket, spread out his
arms as he exclaimed with a show of anger:
"Don't any one of you dare to lift a hand against him! He is our
friend, tried and true! Why, sooner than try to burn our cabin, Blue
Jacket would put his own hand in the fire and let it be consumed. I
stand for him. The one who raises his hand against Blue Jacket will
have to fight Sandy Armstrong!"
After that, of course, the guns that had been half-raised were allowed
to drop once more; but the dark scowls did not leave the stern faces of
those who gathered around.
"See here, Sandy, and you, too, Bob," said one of their comrades, as he
shook his head gravely; "it may look all right to you; but there are
some of us who fail to see anything good in Indians. We have followed
the tracks of the redskin who tried to burn your father's cabin. It led
us here. And, from behind a tree, comes this young brave. We believe he
is the guilty one, and, unless he can prove his innocence, we think we
have a right to punish him, even to the extent of taking his life!"
"You shall not harm a hair of his head!" cried Sandy. "I tell you it is
impossible that he could have done so horrible a thing as try to burn
our cabin. It may have been an Indian, as the tracks prove; but Blue
Jacket, never!"
"Listen," said the cooler Bob; "why should he wish to attract our
attention if he had done this deed? All he had to do was to remain
hidden behind that tree, and we would have passed by without seeing
him."
"But tell us why he came out holding his hands above his head; and for
what reason should he wave the white rag?" demanded a fiery, half-grown
fellow.
"You would have done the same had you seen several men armed, and ready
to shoot at a sound, passing through the woods with torches," replied
Bob, soberly. "Blue Jacket was wise enough to understand that sometimes
people shoot first, and ask questions afterward."
The young Indian had listened with an impassive face to what was being
said. From childhood had he been trained to hide all signs of emotion
as unbecoming to a warrior. While he did not fully understand the
reason for this hot-tempered action on the part of the young whites,
still, doubtless, he could draw certain conclusions.
"No burn cabin. Blue Jacket been way off in hills and think best see
white father, Sandy, Bob. On way when see fire flash through trees.
Hide so can know what mean--not want get hurt, so wave white flag. Ugh!
Blue Jacket talk with straight tongue; no lie!"
He held up his right hand, and looked aloft through the branches of the
trees, as though calling upon the Great Spirit to witness that what he
so solemnly declared was true.
"If he swears that he is innocent, let him prove it!" demanded the same
young hothead who had before spoken.
"Just as you say," returned Bob, who had the utmost confidence in
his copper-colored friend. "Come, let us all go back to where those
moccasin tracks are, which we have followed from our cabin. We will
soon see if they were made by those Blue Jacket has on."
"But that is foolish," remarked one of the others. "All moccasins are
pretty much alike; and they make tracks that are as much the same as
peas in a pod."
"Is that so, Reuben?" asked Bob, appealing to the old and experienced
woodsman, who knew Indians like a scholar would the pages of a printed
book.
"It air not," came the positive reply. "In the fust place, every tribe
has its own way o' makin' footwear; and I kin tell at a look jest
which belongs ter a Shawanee, a Sac, a Pottawottomi, a Delaware or an
Iroquois. Even among the Six Nations thar's much difference, a Seneca's
being built different from the moccasin of a Mohawk or an Oneida."
"I thought so," said Bob, smiling as though pleased. "And, Reuben, tell
us if even Shawanee moccasins may not be known apart by some peculiar
mark?"
"A-plenty of times I've seen it. This one might have a patch at the
toe; another show some mark whar the skin had been worn; or p'raps a
crease straight acrost the foot," the old man replied, frankly.
"And did you notice any such mark about the track we have been
following--anything you would know again, no matter where you saw it?"
Bob went on; for his own eyes had told him something far back, that had
to do with this very thing.
"Yes, thar war such a mark, Bob," returned the experienced woodsman.
"Many times I saw it in the track. It looked like the Indian's moccasin
kept comin' off, and he hed tied a piece of deerskin thong around his
foot. Besides, it was bigger nor any footprint I've run acrost this
many a day."
"Look down at the feet of Blue Jacket, Reuben; and here is one of the
tracks we followed. Tell me, did the same foot make both prints?" and
Bob, as he thus spoke, pointed at the ground where the young warrior
stood.
The settler was already on his knees. He took a slender stick, and
carefully measured the marked track of the moccasin. Then he applied
the rule to the plainly seen imprint left by Blue Jacket as he
voluntarily moved aside.
Every eye saw immediately that there were fully two inches difference
between the length of the unknown cabin-burner's foot and that of Blue
Jacket.
"I knew it!" cried Sandy, as he turned with flashing eyes toward the
one who had demanded speedy justice on general principles. "You see
how foolish you were, Abner; to want to do him harm without the least
evidence against him, only that he is an Indian. Blue Jacket is a
friend to the Armstrong family, even if there are others who do not
like him."
The Indian stood with folded arms. He cast a quick glance of affection
in the direction of Sandy when that impulsive individual spoke so
warmly in his defence; but toward the others of the group he maintained
a cold reserve. Like all of his kind he scorned to show what was in
his heart, when the eyes of those who were unfriendly to him watched
his every move.
"Shall we go on?" asked old Reuben, looking dubious as he spoke.
"It would be useless, I think," Bob observed. "We know by now that the
man who put the torch to our cabin has fled. He can travel twice as
swiftly through the forest as we could follow on his trail. Let him go.
After all, no great harm has been done; and another time we may catch
him at his work, if he comes back."
"Besides," added Reuben, "we stand a chance of runnin' into ambush,
if so be he has friends near by. If you ask me, I say return to the
settlement."
Of course, after that, even the impetuous Abner could not venture a
protest; and he certainly had no desire to continue the useless hunt
alone, or with a single companion. Accordingly the party turned back,
and threaded the dark forest aisles, heading in a direction that would
bring them to the settlement.
Bob and Sandy kept Blue Jacket between them. They had also fallen
back a little, so that they could talk undisturbed; for Bob had seen
something in the manner of the Indian to convince him the other had
sought the home of the Armstrongs with some important message.
"It has been long since Blue Jacket visited his white brothers,"
remarked Bob, who, when holding converse with the other, usually spoke
after the manner of the Shawanees.
"Blue Jacket has been far away to the land of the rising sun, and the
country of the big waters," replied the other, in his low musical
voice. "Everywhere the war drum is sounding and the dance keeps up
night after night. The great chief Pontiac has sent the wampum belt to
all the tribes, and they thirst for blood. It may come with the new
moon; it will not keep long. Blue Jacket is an Indian; but he loves his
white brothers, Bob and Sandy. Long distance he come to tell them to
be ready. Soon along border cabins go up in smoke, and many pale face
squaws and papoose mourn for white braves who come not back. I have
spoken!"