THE SUDDEN PERIL
"OH! he's gone!"
Bob uttered these words one morning just after daybreak. Being the
first to awaken, he had thought to start the fire so that his mother
might prepare an early breakfast, since all of them were so full of
business.
For he and Sandy had planned to go into the woods that day, hoping to
secure a deer, since the stock of provisions was growing low.
"What ails you, Bob?" grunted Sandy, as he sat up on his blanket and
dug his knuckles into a pair of heavy eyes.
"Blue Jacket--he's disappeared!" exclaimed the other, still looking as
though he could not just grasp the fact that was so apparent.
Whereupon Sandy sprang up and stared at the corner where the wounded
Indian had been accustomed to lying. The blanket was there, but no Blue
Jacket!
"What can have happened to him, Bob?" exclaimed the younger boy,
staring at his brother. "You don't think that ugly Anthony Brady did
it? Oh! he surely could not have dragged him away to do him harm?"
"Well, hardly," said the wiser Bob, with a negative shake of the head;
"because you see, Sandy, I was sleeping not five feet away from him all
night, and you know I am not a hard sleeper. They couldn't have dragged
him away and I not know it."
"But what do you think happened?" queried the puzzled Sandy.
"Blue Jacket crept away while we slept. He believed he was well enough
to make the journey to his village home," Bob went on saying, just as
though he understood it all perfectly now.
"And without saying good-bye to any of us? Did you ever hear of such
ingratitude?" exclaimed the other, throwing up both hands in disgust.
"Wait. You do not know. Pat is still in the settlement, and we can ask
him what he thinks about it. Anyhow, Indians are queer fish. They never
do things the same way we do;" and Bob smiled at the angry look on his
brother's face.
"But if he wanted to go home why didn't he tell us, and say good-bye in
the right sort of way, instead of sneaking off like a sly mink!" Sandy
kept on saying.
"Listen, and I'll tell you what I think. You know what Mr. Brady said
about his meaning to shoot an Indian every time he saw one in the
woods! Blue Jacket heard that, and he must have understood what it
meant."
"Of course he did, for I saw him watching Mr. Brady," Sandy admitted.
"Well," said Bob, "you see, he believed that man was on the watch for
the time he would leave us. Now you and I understand Brady has changed
his mind a little about all Indians being bad. But Blue Jacket didn't
know that. No doubt he suspected that, if he went away in the daytime,
some one would slip after him and lay him low. And so he determined to
go while we were asleep. What do you think of my guess now, Sandy!"
"It sounds all right," declared Sandy, enthusiastically; "yes, I'd
wager a shilling that you have struck the truth, Bob. It takes you to
see through things. But here is father; let us put it up to him."
Mr. Armstrong, upon hearing what had happened, immediately declared
that the young Shawanee must have considered it the part of wisdom
to slip away unnoticed while the settlement was wrapped in peaceful
slumber.
"Go out and ask the sentinels whether any of them saw him," he said to
the two boys; "but I wager you will find that nobody knows the first
thing about him."
This proved to be the case, for, although the young pioneers made the
rounds of the men who had been on guard duty during the entire night,
in no quarter could they learn that a single flitting figure had really
been seen.
One man had believed he saw something, but reached the conclusion,
after an investigation, that it had only been a prowling raccoon or an
opossum, both of which animals were to be found in plenty near the new
settlement.
On the way back they ran across the genial Irish trapper. He was oiling
some of his traps, as though ready to put them away until another
season.
"The ridskin gone, is it, me byes?" he observed, after Sandy had told
him why they were going around asking questions. "Well, upon me honor
I'm not wan bit surprised, knowin' the sly ways av the animal so well.
But, by yer lave, I'll go wid yees till the home, an' say if the
ungrateful skunk had the good manners to lave a sign to till what he
thought."
So it was Pat's eyes that discovered something fastened to a crevice
between two of the logs, as yet unfilled by mud. It seemed to be a
bit of inner bark which Blue Jacket must have obtained possession of
recently, after he was able to limp around the interior of the new
cabin, and even venture outside a little way.
Upon this he had scratched various rude signs. To the ignorant boys
they looked like the crude work of a little child attempting to
draw a pig, and some other domestic animals; but with Pat O'Mara it
was different. Every little mark had a meaning of its own in his
experienced eyes, for he had seen much of this Indian picture writing.
"Sure, 'tis just what I thought, byes," he declared, as he scanned this
piece of bark with its cipher message. "He knowed wan av us min would
be able to rade this missage."
"But what does it say, Pat?" demanded the impatient Sandy.
"In so many worrds thin," began the other, wrinkling his brows, "that
he will niver, niver forgit what yees have done for him; and that
some day perhaps he may have a chanct to repay ye for it all. Begorra,
afther all the rid sarpint did have some falin' in him! I takes back
all I iver sed aginst the lad. Who knows but thot this may be the
interin' wedge whereby we may make a treaty av pace wid the bloody
Injuns?"
Both boys were sorry that Blue Jacket was gone. Bob in particular had
begun to feel quite drawn to the young Indian. Of late they had spent
considerable time trying to converse. The Shawanee had told him more or
less about his tribe, and in turn had learned that the motives of the
invading whites were not at all warlike, if they were only let alone.
The axes sounded through the livelong day, as the settlers continued
to clear away the woods which shut them in so closely. The further
the fringe of nearest trees could be moved back, the freer would they
breathe; for it seemed as though enemies must ever be lurking in the
gloomy depths of the dense forest.
Fish were taken from the river with the utmost ease, and furnished many
a fine meal, though many of them were of a species utterly unknown
to any of the settlers. Blue Jacket had said they were good to eat,
however, and so they had been found on testing them.
The cabins continued to arise, as it were, in a night. In this duty the
new settlers always assisted one another when the time came for the log
raising, since what was the interest of one must ever be the interest
of all.
As fast as the trees were cut down, the virgin soil was turned over,
rich as it was in valuable leaf mold, and some of the seeds, so
carefully hoarded during the long journey from their Virginia starting
place, were planted.
It was wonderful what rapid changes took place in that favored spot.
Every sunset saw new cabins being topped with such rude shingles as the
newcomers could hew from the timber which was so plentiful. No sooner
was a cabin finished than the fortunate family would move in. Little
they cared that there was not a piece of furniture awaiting them; and
that tables and seats would all have to be made. A sound roof over
their heads in case of storm was the main thing; besides, no doubt the
women naturally felt safer behind stout walls, rather than settled in
tents, or make-shift shelters of branches. They could not easily forget
the terrors of that awful night when the Indians had attacked the
camp, and looked eagerly forward to the day when the entire settlement
might have a strong blockhouse where all could find safety in case of
sudden need.
Then, by degrees, came the work of making things more comfortable for
the women. Nearly every man could use fairly well the primitive tools
of the day; and where this skill were lacking he might exchange his
abilities in some other line with a more accomplished neighbor, so that
the necessary deal table, and the benches, as well as bunks, or rude
beds, for sleeping, were secured.
Certain of the members of the little community were given other tasks.
Food had to be secured, and fortunately there was no lack, with the
adjacent river to supply plenty of fresh fish for the taking, and the
bountiful store of game awaiting the coming of the marksman.
Thus, in a very brief space of time, things began to take on a homelike
appearance. Outdoor cooking might still be indulged in to a great
extent; but there would also be times when the tempting venison roast
would again be made ready for the table by the turning of the familiar
spit over a fire of red ashes on the big hearth.
These hardy pioneers seldom had need of medicine, such was their active
life, and plain wholesome fare; nevertheless, every family always kept
a store of certain dried herbs used for fevers and other ailments. As
a rule accidents alone required medical care; but there was always
some woman in a settlement more highly favored than her companions in
knowledge of nursing; and to her they looked in times of need.
Many of their cooking utensils they made themselves out of clay, which
was baked after a rude fashion, just as the Indians did. These vessels,
while not very fine looking, answered most admirably the purposes to
which they were put, and many of them have been handed down to the
descendants of these early Ohio settlers, to be treasured with due
reverence.
Salt they could obtain readily enough. In Kentucky and Ohio in these
days there were what were called "salt licks," because deer and buffalo
frequented the places in order to gratify their longing for this almost
indispensable commodity. Here they were able to secure with little
effort whatever quantity of salt was needed.
Bob and Sandy were always on the lookout for such "licks." They knew
from Daniel Boone and O'Mara that, whenever they wanted deer, it was
simplest to hide close to one of these salt licks, and wait until buck
or doe came to gratify its craving; when they could usually secure
their game by a single shot.
It might seem rather hard that the poor deer should be taken advantage
of in this way; but these men of the border looked upon the stocking of
the limitless forest with various kinds of game as a wise provision of
Nature, intended primarily for their good while peopling the land, and
extending civilization westward toward that wonderful river of which
they never tired of talking, the Mississippi.
David Armstrong had considered the situation carefully before starting
from Virginia on this long journey. He also talked it over with Pat
O'Mara. Consequently he had utilized every bit of money he could lay
hands on to purchase certain articles which the Irish trapper assured
him could be traded to the friendly Indians for their precious pelts of
mink, fox, beaver, bear and other kinds of wild animals.
The French traders had, up to now, monopolized this business along the
frontier all the way from the great inland seas, of which so little
was known, down to the great province of Louisiana on the Gulf. They
understood that their day would soon be brought to an end once the
English invaded this vast territory; and consequently they were forever
endeavoring to arouse the savages against Daniel Boone and those other
hardy spirits who meant to chop out trails through the new country, and
found a race of English-speaking settlers.
Mr. Armstrong intended to become a trader. In this way he believed he
might earn enough to support his little family; especially since he had
two such industrious boys, who could do so much to help out by bringing
in game in season, tilling the little garden around the new home, and
making good use of the few rusty and cumbersome traps they had brought
all the way from Virginia.
In their hunts the boys had already learned that there was an
apparently endless supply of small fur-bearing animals among the
valleys within ten miles of their new home.
"Just think what great times we can have next winter," said Sandy, as
they prepared for another jaunt into the timber, and this subject was
brought up by the sight of Pat's rusty traps hanging from a peg on
the side of the inner wall; for Pat was now ready to take one of his
periodical lonely trips deeper into the unknown region further down the
great river.
Just then the Irish trapper himself came out from the inner room, where
he had been saying good-bye to their mother.
"Sure it's off I am, me byes," he observed, as he held out a hand to
each, while his humorous blue eyes twinkled as he strove to keep back
the tear which tried desperately to break loose. "Take good care av
yersilves, now. And whist, lads; until the spring rains do be comin' to
wit down the dead laves in the forest, it wud pay yees to be careful
how ye set a fire goin'. Wanst caught in a forest fire was enough for
me, thank ye."
"Why, of course we will, Pat," said Bob, shaking the honest hand of the
trapper warmly; "and we all hope you will be back this way before long."
"And if you run across Colonel Boone," remarked Sandy, "as I reckon you
mean to, tell him how glad we are to be here."
To all of which Pat promised faithfully; after which he shouldered
his long barrelled rifle, gave a hitch to his leather trousers, waved
his hand to Kate, who was looking out of the window, her pretty
face bedewed with tears, and then, whistling merrily to hide his own
emotion, he strode away.
A minute later he waved to them from the border of the dense woods;
then he was gone, and no one could say whether they would ever again
look upon the genial face of the happy Irish trapper. For his life was
one constant succession of perilous adventures amidst wild beasts and
even wilder human beings, so that he actually held his existence in the
hollow of his hand.
"Come on, let us make a start," said Sandy, as impatient as ever.
Presently the two lads found themselves tramping along through the
woods, on the alert for any game worth wasting precious powder and lead
upon.
It had been quite mild of late, but to-day the wind had veered back
into the old quarter where the ice king dwelt, and was growing
stronger all the time. To the young hunters, however, the air was only
invigorating, and gave tone to their efforts.
"Queer that we have seen nothing worth shooting up to now," remarked
Sandy, after they had been tramping a full hour. "What do you think is
the matter, Bob? Can the Indians be about, and have they frightened all
the deer and buffalo away?"
Bob shook his head.
"I was just wondering," he said, "if we made too much noise stalking
through all these dead leaves. Did you ever see such a thick mass? And
as dry as tinder, too. See, when the wind catches them up, how they
whirl like mad."
"Goodness!" remarked Sandy, remembering the caution of the trapper;
"wouldn't it just be awful if they caught fire? We must be miles away
from home, and could never reach it. What in the world would we do,
Bob?"
Then, as he glanced up at his brother when asking this question, he
discovered that Bob was standing there, sniffing the air suspiciously!
In the present excited condition of Sandy's nerves that, of course, was
enough to set him wild.
"What is it? You smell something--oh! Bob, please don't tell me that it
is smoke!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with sudden alarm.
"That is just what I do smell," replied Bob, uneasily, though, seeing
the distress of his brother, he immediately tried to laugh it off.
"But perhaps it comes from some campfire started by the Indians. How do
we know but what we may be close to a village, since no one has ever
come this way before?"
"Now I get it," cried Sandy, "and, Bob, listen, what can that roaring
sound mean? Are we near the river, and is that a rapids of any sort?"
In spite of his bravery, and his desire not to frighten Sandy, Bob felt
that his face turned pale, for he knew instinctively what that strange
sound meant.
"Come, perhaps we had better turn around, and walk this way," he said,
suiting his action to the words.
"You know something, and you're trying to keep it from me, brother.
That isn't fair. Tell me the worst, Bob! That rushing sound up on the
wind--_does that mean the woods are on fire_?"
"That is just what it means, Sandy," said the other, "and we must run
like mad now!"