PAUL SAMPSON.
When we were inside the cabin once more, with the door and windows
barred and the man and lad whom we had rescued eating ravenously from
the store of food my mother set before them, there was in my mind the
thought that I had good reason to be proud of the part I had so lately
played.
Simon Kenton and I had killed, or driven off, a band of fourteen
savages, and surely my portion of the work had not been slight. It
seemed to me then, as now, that I did my full share in the business. It
is true, except for the fact of our having taken the brutes by surprise,
and come upon them in such fashion they had no means of knowing but that
we outnumbered them three or four to one, the matter might have come to
a different ending; but it was much to our credit that we had been able
to surprise those wretches who seldom made an attack unless it can be
begun in like manner.
I repeat I was feeling proud of our work, more particularly when I
looked at our guests, realizing that but for Simon Kenton and myself
they would at that very moment be suffering all the tortures the painted
wolves could inflict, and I glanced at the young scout, thinking to read
in his face thoughts akin to mine.
In this I was mistaken. Despite what was very nearly a fact--that the
Indians had been put to flight--he was standing by the loophole of the
door keeping careful watch, and, so far as could be told by the
expression on his face, it might have been us white men who were worsted
in the encounter.
I failed to see in his bearing anything to betoken that he had but
lately faced death in its most horrible form in order to make an effort
at saving the lives of strangers, and from that moment I looked up to
the young man much as if he had been of a superior race from any I had
previously seen.
It is not to be supposed that I stood idly by dwelling upon such
thoughts as are here set down in words, while, for aught we knew, the
brutes might be gathering in greater force than before.
I was not so wholly given over to vanity as all that would indicate; but
moved here or there looking after our defense in such manner as seemed
to me proper, my mind busy all the while, and the vainglorious thoughts
dying away as I observed Kenton.
Then, when the young scout had advised that I remain at the further end
of the cabin, keeping watch from the loophole in the shutter, I turned
my attention to those whom we had saved from the stake.
They were father and son, as I learned from the conversation the elder
was holding with my mother, who ministered to their wants at the table.
Horace Sampson was the man's name, and he called the lad Paul.
The two had come from Maryland to locate a homestead, and the only
wonder in my mind was that the savages had not taken them captives
before they got so far into the wilderness; for neither of them knew as
much regarding woodcraft as had I on my tenth birthday.
They had believed it would be possible for them to frighten the Indians
by a mere show of weapons, and could not be persuaded by those who had
been on the frontier, that it was but little less than suicide to
venture in this section of the country alone.
For three weeks they had traveled here and there searching for a
likely-looking location, and not until the day previous had the savages
shown themselves.
Then that which might have been expected happened in a twinkling, and
before either the father or the son had an idea any danger threatened,
they were disarmed, and bound within view of our cabin, as I have
related.
Even after having been so near a terrible death, Mr. Sampson believed it
might be possible to retrace his steps in safety; but my mother cried
out so loudly against any such foolhardy venture, and painted the
dangers of the frontier in such vivid colors, that the ignorant man
finally came to believe it was hardly safe to trust himself alone amidst
foes whose methods of warfare were so entirely a secret to him.
Simon Kenton must have been listening to the conversation even as I had
been doing, for he said when mother had ceased her warning:
"The only safe path for you is that which leads to Corn Island. There
you will find a goodly company, and I doubt not that before many days
have passed you will meet with some who propose to journey on your
road."
"But how may we provide for ourselves on this island of which you
speak?" the man asked helplessly, and the question in itself was
sufficient to prove his ignorance.
"There will be no lack of helping hands," Simon Kenton replied with a
smile. "On the frontier men do not count the value of food and a
shelter, as do those who live in town."
Then, as if to show he was pig-headed as well as ignorant, Mr. Sampson
argued that he was not willing to accept charity from strangers; that it
would be demeaning himself to receive anything for which he was unable
to pay.
"You must do that, or take the chances of providin' sport for the
painted snakes, as you were like to do a short time ago," Kenton replied
curtly, and I understood by the tone that he was losing patience because
of the man's stubbornness.
Having thus spoken the young scout turned once more to stand guard at
the loophole, and Paul, the lad, his meal ended, came timidly toward
where I was stationed.
He appeared to be a boy after my own heart, entirely different in
manners and speech from his father, and I decided at once that we should
be firm friends so long as he might remain on the frontier.
I could well understand that he was burning with a desire to ask
questions, and did not hesitate to give him encouragement to begin.
He was eager to know how long I had lived in the wilderness; how often I
had fought against the savages, and such like simple questions, all of
which I answered until he was come to an end.
Then I asked about his home in Maryland; of his journey to the Ohio
River, and, finally, how he felt while bound to the stake.
"The fear in my heart was so great that I did not fully have my senses,"
he replied with a shudder. "Not until the fires were kindled and the
dancing had begun did I dream that those beasts would put us to death. I
was like one in a dream until the first shot was fired, and a savage
dropped dead almost at my feet."
"We didn't open fire any too soon," I said with perhaps a tinge of pride
in my tone because I had played my part well, as it seemed to me.
"In another instant the Indian's knife would have been in my body!" he
cried. "I could tell by the fierce gleam in his eyes that he counted on
taking my life."
"The murdering brutes do not kill their prisoners so quickly or easily.
He would have prolonged your life to its utmost limit, in order that you
might suffer the more."
Then I told him of my father's cruel death; of what we had found to tell
the horrible story, and before I had finished the tears were running
down his cheeks.
Simon Kenton must have been listening to our conversation, for he called
sharply, when Paul was almost overcome with grief:
"You lads had best get what sleep you can before daylight, for as soon
as the sun rises, if it so be the red wolves have drawn off, we must set
out for Corn Island."
I understood that he was not well pleased because I had frightened the
lad who was so lately come from the bustling world, and it shamed me
because of giving him, who was so brave, an opportunity for reproof.
My mother spread out the skins near the fireplace, where I had been in
the custom of sleeping, and Paul dutifully laid himself down, while his
father remained at the table evidently in a brown study.
It was not in my mind to allow Simon Kenton to perform all the labor,
and I said stoutly, yet at the same time feeling that my eyes were
growing heavy:
"I count on doing my share of the watching this night. It is not right
that I should sleep while you remain awake."
"I should not trust you to stand guard alone, and there is no good
reason why both of us remain on duty. Take your sleep now, that you may
be the better fitted for a long day's tramp."
He spoke in such a commanding tone that I could do no less than obey,
and when my mother clambered up the ladder to her bed in the loft I lay
down by Paul's side, closing my eyes in slumber almost as soon as my
body was stretched out at full length.
The day had dawned when a cry from Simon Kenton brought me to my feet in
alarm, believing the savages were upon us; but he quieted my fears as he
said with a laugh:
"I had a notion of findin' out how long you need to get your eyes open
wide. If we two are to join Major Clarke, we should be well acquainted."
"I am not such an idiot as to sleep after being summoned," I replied
just a trifle testily, for it seemed much as if he was making sport of
me. "I may not be as well up in woodcraft as are you; but I'm no
idler."
"Now you are takin' me too seriously," he replied with another laugh
which disarmed me of anger. "It was high time you made ready for the
tramp, an' I'm pleased to see you so quick at a call. He who finds it
hard to shake the sleep from his eyes should remain in towns where he
need not hold a rifle ever at hand in order to save his life. Look at
yonder would-be settler," he added in a whisper, and I glanced in the
direction of his outstretched finger, where was Mr. Sampson, yawning and
stretching as if struggling to gather his senses. "Is it strange the
painted brutes captured such as he with but little difficulty?"
Paul was no such sluggard. He had risen at the same time I did, and now
stood near the door on the alert for whatever might come his way.
I could hear my mother moving about in the loft, and knew she would soon
be down to cook breakfast, after which, as I understood the plan, we
were to begin the journey.
"Have the savages left us?" I asked of the young scout.
"Ay, so it seems, though I'm not overly eager to believe it without
better proof than that we've heard nothin' from 'em since you went to
sleep. Stand you here ready for anything that may turn up, an' I'll have
a look round."
He unbarred the door as he spoke, and when he had stolen softly out I
stood guard in his place, with Paul close by my side.
Not until the morning meal had been cooked and was spread on the table
did Simon Kenton return, and the news which he brought gave me a sense
of deepest relief.
"The dose we gave 'em last night was enough," he said, leaning his rifle
against the side of the hut as he took a seat at the table without
waiting for an invitation. "Now is the time for us to start, for there's
no knowin' how soon the brutes may take it into their ugly heads to come
back."
"Are we to leave all our belongings here?" I asked, looking around at
the scanty store of furniture, the greater portion of which my father
had made.
"Better them than your hair," Simon Kenton replied. "If the snakes come
this way again they'll make short work of the cabin an' all that's in
it, whether you be here to make a show of defendin' it or not. In case
they stay away, the stuff will be safe where it is, if we take care to
keep out the wild beasts."
There was a look of pain on my mother's face which I knew had been
caused by the thought of leaving behind her scanty goods; but she gave
no words to her sorrow, joining with the young scout in the conversation
concerning the day's tramp.
When the meal had been eaten, and mother tidied up the cabin a bit, we
went out into the sunlight, closing door and window shutter behind us,
as if counting on returning before nightfall.
Simon Kenton took the lead, and then was begun the long march which did
not end until late in the night.
We made few halts, and then only for a few moments at a time. We ate as
we walked, forcing our way through the dense underbrush, and ever on the
alert against danger.
Mr. Sampson more than once insisted that the pace was killing him; he
declared, when the day was half spent, that it would be impossible for
him to walk half a mile farther; but when Kenton quietly suggested that
he might halt wheresoever he chose, and follow our trail the next
morning, he came to the conclusion that perhaps he might keep his feet a
short time longer.
Paul was as cheery a companion as one could desire. Although he was
foot-sore and weary, as I knew full well, not a word of complaint came
from his lips, and before the day was ended I knew Simon Kenton had
begun to love the lad even as I already did, for he whispered once when
we were well in advance of the others:
"That boy is worth a dozen such men as his father. He has got true
pluck, an' I'll warrant you wouldn't hear him whine even when he'd
fallen in his tracks worn out."
There is no reason why I need say how my mother bore her share of the
fatigue. She was a brave, true woman, and when any task, however great,
was to be done, went at it with a will and in silence, or with cheery
words.
When, at a late hour in the evening, we were come opposite Corn Island,
and had found one of Major Clarke's force who was willing to ferry us
across the river, I was more astounded than words can express, for it
was as if I had suddenly emerged from the wilderness to find myself in a
populous town.
No less than twenty families had come down with the volunteers, and were
encamped together, nearby where the men had their quarters. Counting
men, women and children, there could not have been less than four
hundred and fifty people, three times as many as I had ever before seen
in one place.
The greater portion of this gathering was asleep; but I could well fancy
what bustle and confusion there must be when all were moving about, and
the mere idea bewildered me.
Simon Kenton led us directly to the hut set apart for the use of Major
Clarke, and there introduced us to the commander of the expedition, who
bid us welcome in such a hearty fashion that even Mr. Sampson must have
forgotten what he had said about "accepting charity."
Mother was taken in charge by some of the women, and we four, meaning
Simon Kenton, the Sampsons, father and son, and myself, were given the
use of a lean-to made of brush--not a substantial shelter; but to me,
who had well-nigh come to an end of my endurance, it was most inviting.
Even Kenton himself felt the effects of the long tramp; and we indulged
in no conversation that night, each member of the party falling asleep
as soon as he was on the ground.
Paul and I were early abroad next morning. To him there was no novelty
in such a throng, for he told me solemnly that he had seen in Maryland
many more people bent on merrymaking than could be found on Corn Island,
and I was forced to believe the lad, although it hardly seemed possible.
As I have said, there were no less than twenty families who had come
down with the major's force to find homes in the wilderness, and,
learning in some way, I know not how, that I was the son of a settler,
many of them gathered around to learn how we had fared on our clearing.
There was more than one pale face among the women and younger children
when I told of my father's death, and I dare say but few would have
remained to build homes nearabout the Ohio River if it had been possible
for them to get back to the settlement they had just left.
Mr. Sampson appeared like a different man now that he was with a throng
of people. He no longer seemed to think it necessary he should return
to Maryland, where a wife and two children awaited his coming; but
declared that he would join his fortunes with those who counted on
building up a village on the frontier.
Paul kept close by my side as I talked with the men concerning the
expedition on which Major Clarke was to lead them, and when, late on
that first day in camp, I told him of my intention to join the force as
a volunteer, he declared that nothing would please him better than to be
my comrade.
"If my father is willing, I shall go," he said quietly; but in a tone
which told me that he was one with a will of his own, and not likely to
be led by the nose against his own desire or inclination.
At the first opportunity I sought out Simon Kenton to tell him of Paul's
plans, and the young scout said heartily:
"I like the lad, and will be glad to have him with us, although for a
time he may cost us some trouble."
"He is quick to learn, I fancy, and by observing those around him, will
soon be able to get about in a proper fashion," I replied confidently,
whereupon the scout surprised me by saying:
"There will be none save you an' me for him to see."
"What then will have become of all this gathering?" I asked in
astonishment.
"They will be far behind us, lad. Was it in your mind that I would march
in line like a soldier?"
"What else can you do?"
"Remain in advance to make certain no danger threatens. You and I will
act as scouts; I reckon there may be others, but I have been hired to
conduct all this party, first to the British outpost at Kaskaskia, and
then to Cahokia."
"You alone?" I cried, overwhelmed to learn that this young fellow was of
so much importance in the eyes of a soldier like Major Clarke.
"Not alone, for I count on takin' one Louis Nelson with me, an' he has
it in mind that Paul Sampson will make the third."
"But I am far too ignorant to share such an important duty!"
"The lad who is willin' to face a gang of painted wolves such as
besieged your cabin, and to do so almost single-handed, gives promise of
bein' a comrade to my likin'. We'll lead the men, Louis, an' I dare
venture to say there'll be no ambush we shan't scent out before the
murderin' redskins succeed in doing any mischief."
"And are you willing to take Paul Sampson?" I asked, still in a maze of
bewilderment.
"Aye, that I am, an' venture to say he'll turn out to be your equal
after a little experience."
I could hardly contain myself for joy at the thought that mine was to be
a man's work; but ran off at full speed to make my mother acquainted
with what I believed was rare good fortune.
She, kind soul, was saddened because such an opportunity had presented
itself to me, and although she spoke not a word against the enterprise,
I understood what was in her heart, and said quickly, even though it
cost me a pang to utter the words:
"You are not pleased, mother, and I had thought it would make you glad
because Simon Kenton had so much of faith in me. I will tell him I
cannot go, and you may forget I have spoken of it."
The tears were very near her eyelids as she drew me closer and said
softly, hardly daring to trust her voice:
"I would not keep you, my son, even though the parting give me great
pain. On the frontier boys must speedily learn to be men, and it may be
best for you to go. Perhaps we will join these settlers who intend to
build up a town nearby, when you come back covered with glory."
"Now you are making sport of me, mother," I replied reproachfully.
"There is no glory to be gained in fighting savages."
"To my mind you gained very much, Louis, when you ventured your life to
save Mr. Sampson and Paul."
I was at a loss to understand exactly what she meant, nor did I try very
hard, for the look of pain was gone from her face, and I wanted to
repeat the good news to Paul.
I found him on the shore of the island, gazing across the water as if he
saw in the muddy stream some wonderful vision, and instead of being
surprised or elated when I told what proud position we were to occupy in
the expedition, he said with a sigh:
"It is enough if I am to be with you, Louis."
"And your father? Will he give his consent?"
"He is laying plans for the new settlement which is to be made, and when
I told him it would give me pleasure to go with you and Simon Kenton,
he said he had other things of which to think."
"Does that mean you are free to go?"
"Now that he has companions there will be no thought of me. We will go,
Louis; but do you think we will come back?"
The question almost frightened me. I had thought only of being a scout
for such a brave party as was here encamped, and had given no heed to
the possible danger which awaited us, until reminded of it by Paul's
words.