"IT'S AN ILL WIND THAT BLOWS NOBODY ANY GOOD."
Although Jethro Juggens was not in the slightest danger of molestation
by the Shawanoes from the moment he emerged from the cabin and started
across the clearing, he was not to escape all danger and a great scare.
He chafed at the binding of the linen armor about his ankles. He was
impatient to walk faster, and could not do so in that situation. His
strength was great, but a Hercules could not have overcome the obstacle
without loosening it. Glancing to the right and left and on all sides,
and seeing nothing threatening, he decided to end the intolerable
annoyance in the only way possible. He therefore stopped short and
stooped over to loosen the bandages.
But lo! it was impossible. His body was so confined that he could only
make a slight inclination. The hands, which were partly covered, would
not reach further than a point just above his knees.
"I' clar to gracious!" exclaimed the alarmed Jethro, straightening up
like a jack-knife, "I's committed sooicide. I'll nebber be able to get
my feet free. I'll hab to lib dis way de rest ob my life, and dat won't
be berry long."
But the first shock over, the truth gradually dawned upon him that
inasmuch as he had wound himself up, he must possess the ability to
unwind himself. All he had to do was to begin at the upper instead of
the lower part of his body.
"Qu'ar I didn't tink ob dat," he said, with a chuckle at his own fright.
It was the work of but a few minutes to unwrap his body and limbs, when
he kicked his feet free, and "Richard was himself again." By that time,
however, he had entirely freed himself from the sheets, which he flung
over his left arm, while he held his heavy gun in his right.
"What's de use ob smotherin' myself to def," he muttered. "Dar ain't no
Injuns 'round, and dar won't be--gracious hebben."
From the edge of the wood, barely fifty feet away, a dark object issued
and advanced straight upon him.
"Dat's de Panther! I knows him by his face; he wants to git eben wid me
'cause I wouldn't 'low him to stick his foot in my mouf."
Forgetful of the effective weapon he had in his hand, Jethro made a dash
for the flatboat, his nearest refuge, and forgetful, too, of the
voluminous folds over his arm, he tangled the lower ends about his feet
and sprawled headlong to the ground. This completed the panic, and
letting go of his rifle, he rolled over on his back and made desperate
efforts to gather the mass of linen over his face and body, so as to
protect him against bullet and knife and tomahawk, somewhat as a child
covers its head at night to escape imaginary terrors.
There was so much of the stuff that the armoring of his head and limbs
was quite effective, but his feet were left wholly unprotected. The only
recourse left was to kick, which he proceeded to do with a vigor that
would have sent any man flying had he come within reach of the whirring
pedals.
When this had continued until Jethro was tired, he concluded that the
demonstration had frightened off his enemy. Dropping his feet on the
ground, he drew the covering of his face sufficiently to one side to
permit him to peep forth. Seeing nothing, he ventured to raise his head
a little higher and to look around.
The dark object that had thrown him into the panic was just disappearing
from sight in the direction of the wood whence it came. There was enough
moonlight at that moment for him to identify it.
"By gracious! it am a bar! I done forgot dat I had my loaded gun and
could hab drapped him easy. If any ob de folks had come 'long while I
lay on my back kickin' at de sky, dey would hab tought I had a bone in
my froat and didn't know what to do wid it."
In all probability the bear, when he first appeared, intended to make an
investigation, but the sight of a figure, smothered in sheets and with
his feet thrumming in the air like a couple of drum sticks, must have
frightened bruin into leaving the strange animal alone.
Jethro was disposed to make chase after the animal and bring him to
account, but reflection showed the unwisdom of allowing any diversion to
interfere with the plain dictates of duty.
"Dar's no tellin' what trouble Mr. Kenton may hab tumbled into widout
habin' me dar to pull him out. De rest ob de folks don't know how to
shoot Injuns half as well as me."
It was evident the youth felt quite proud of his exploits, and who can
blame him? He surely had warrant for his pride. He had decided to pay a
visit to the flatboat even though time was so urgent. It lay close
against the bank, just as it had been left earlier in the day, after the
cargo was removed. Abandoning it before a chance was given to break it
up, and with the vague hope that they might be permitted to turn it to
account some time in the future, the pioneers offered it no harm, nor
was it injured by the Indians who, later, came upon the scene.
Jethro stepped over the heavy gunwale and looked about him with peculiar
interest, for, as is well known, that craft was the scene of many
stirring incidents during the preceding twenty-four hours.
There was the long sweeping oar, balanced on a pivot at either end, with
the handle reaching almost to the middle of the boat. That portion
considered the stern (although in no respect did it differ from the bow)
had the covered space, used as sleeping quarters for the females. At the
other end was where the cooking was done.
In the bottom lay the two long poles to be used in controlling the boat
when necessary, and, groping about, Jethro noticed the pieces of rope
that had served to bind The Panther, and which no one had deemed
valuable enough to be removed. Other pieces of board and a few fragments
of articles were scattered around, but none was of any account. Jethro
flung down his big armful of linen at the bow, and, sitting upon them,
gave himself over to characteristic meditation.
There is no intellect so dull through which some bright thought does not
now and then flash. It may come and go too quickly to be turned to
account, but, all the same, it is that mystic throb which proves that
all human souls are beating in unison with the divinity that created
them.
Sitting thus at the prow of the flatboat, meditating upon the strange
occurrences through which he had passed since leaving his old home in
Virginia, a scheme gradually assumed definite form in the brain of
Jethro Juggens, whose brilliancy and originality startled even himself.
And yet, when it comes to be analyzed, there was really nothing
startling and brilliant in it. The wonder would have been, if any
person, with a modicum of sense, could have held his place under similar
circumstances and not thought of that which gradually worked its way
into his consciousness.
There were the poles used in handling the flatboat; there were bits of
rope scattered about the bottom of the craft. He was sitting upon almost
half a score of tough, thin sheets of linen; he was the possessor of a
sharp knife and was dextrous in its use; and the wind was blowing almost
a gale from the west, and therefore directly up stream; why not sail the
flatboat up the Ohio?
This was the question which at first held the youth breathless with the
very grandeur and magnitude of the scheme; but, as fully considered, it
became simple and more practical.
Jethro was far from suspecting the real use to which his scheme could be
possibly put. He knew and suspected nothing of the desperate straits in
which his friends were placed at that very hour. He had an altogether
different project in view.
"Dey're pickin' dar way frough de woods, whar it's dark, and habing all
sorts ob trouble. Dey can't see tings, and dat makes it wusser; de one
dat's walkin' at de head will be sartin to hab a limb cotch him under
his chin and raise him off his feet; den he'll feel like sw'aring, but
will be afeared to do so, 'cause de heathen might oberhear him and stop
him, and make him explanify de meanin' of his discumvations.
"De tramp wouldn't be much if de sun war shinin' so dat dey could walk
long widout steppin' on snakes. When dey see me come sailin' up de
ribber, why, dey will be so pleased dat Mr. Altman won't--dat is, he
won't obsist on my workin' so hard, and Mrs. Altman won't frow out so
many digustin' hints 'bout de bigness ob my appertite."
Having labored up to his decision, Jethro Juggens threw away no time in
carrying it out. It really seemed as if everything had been directed for
the last hour or two to prepare this very course to him. The failure of
the wooden box to serve him as an armor, and the resort to the sheets of
linen, the turning of his steps toward the flatboat, and, above all,
that strong, steadily-blowing west wind--many persons would have seen
something more than a mere coincidence in these things, and who shall
say that this view would not have been right?
The task that presented itself to Jethro Juggens, though a hard one, was
by no means impossible. His keen-edged knife soon fashioned excavations
in the soft planking at the sides, through which he passed some of the
pieces of rope and fastened one of the poles in an upright position, or
nearly so, for he was wise enough to place it so that it leaned backward
like the masts of ordinary sailing vessels. He secured this as strongly
as he could, and then did the same with the second pole on the other
side, and directly opposite the first.
He had now two strong uprights or masts. He examined and tested them
until certain that nothing more could be done to add to their firmness.
Then he set to work to knot or tie a number of the sheets together at
the corners, until a sail was fashioned of the right dimensions, and
this, in turn, was secured to the masts.
He went about the business with that deliberation and care which marks
the skilled workman. Almost any one, placed as he was, would have been
hasty, nervous and unfitted to do a good job. It would have been
neglected at some point, and, consequently, disaster would have come at
the beginning of the enterprise. Jethro wrought as though such a thing
as danger was not within a hundred miles, and that, too, when he had
recently passed through some terrifying incidents.
When the work was completed, he had a sail containing something like
fifty square feet, the sheets secured together with no little skill, and
the masts so strongly set that they could be relied upon, unless some
unusual cause interfered with them. The only probable contingency to
cause misgiving was the wind.
That would not always blow from the west, and it might cease within an
hour, or even less time.
"It may get contrary," reflected Jethro, "and turn de oder way; if dat
am de case, dis old boat will go kitin' down de Ohio till we strike de
Massissip--and den--I done forgot what dat riber runs into, but if I
discomember incorrectly, it am de Red Sea; don't want to go dar, so I'll
jump ober board, if I can't stop de boat, and take to de woods.
"Mebbe de gale will twist 'round and come from de souf; under dem
sarcummentions de boat'll bang in 'mong de trees and smash tings. If Mr.
Kenton had managed to got 'long when I ain't wid him, and Mr. Boone
don't fall down and hurt hisself, why dem two might got de Injins
togeder and hold dem on de Kentucky shore, while I run ober' em wid de
flatboat.
"Dat would gib' em such a good squshin' dat dey wouldn't bother us for a
good while. It happens, howsumeber, just now dat de wind am blowin'
right, and we kin sail up de Ohio as fur as we want, dat is," qualified
Jethro, "if we don't want to go furder dan de wind will took us--but why
don't the old ting start?"
The sail was spread, and the strong gale was impinging dead against it,
and yet, strange to say, the flatboat remained as motionless as if sunk
at the bottom of the river.