CHAPTER VIII.

AT THE RENDEZVOUS.

Even before the smoke had cleared away sufficiently for me to see the

captives, our people rushed forward, all reloading as they ran, and

during two or three minutes the confusion was so great that I could not

make out what might be going on.

Paul and I had dashed forward with the rest, and, instinctively, so far

as I was concerned, we directed our steps toward the prisoner, who was

bound hand and foot in such a manner that I question if he could have

moved either of his limbs by so much as a hair's breadth.

The effect of the fire was not so deadly as I had at first supposed.

More than one of the savages must have dropped to the ground to

disconcert our aim, as I now understood on seeing that no more than

five lay stretched out on the ground near the captive.

The remainder had taken to cover a short distance away, and two of our

men dropped as they ran forward, while I saw bloodstains on the shirts

of two others.

"We must get to shelter!" I shouted to Paul, swerving aside from the

course we had been pursuing as I spoke, and clutching his arm in order

that he should be forced to do the same.

The brave little lad had no idea of leaving Simon Kenton at the mercy of

the painted brutes, however. It was reasonable to suppose they would

shoot him rather than allow a rescue, and Paul was bent on saving him at

the hazard of his own life.

Wrenching his arm from my grasp, and almost at the same instant drawing

his hunting knife, he dashed on toward the tree to which the scout was

bound, and involuntarily I followed; but no credit should be given me

for the act, because I was hardly conscious of my own movements.

Here, there and everywhere around us, as it seemed to me, rang out the

reports of rifles, and every weapon was held with deadly aim.

It was as if the air was full of death-dealing missiles, and yet no one

of them touched us as we sped across what was now an open space, both

white men and savages having retreated to the nearest shelter.

Paul was the first to reach the captive, and with an exultant shout he

began hacking at the deer-hide thongs with which the poor fellow was

bound.

"You're lads after my own heart!" Simon Kenton cried, his voice ringing

out clear and distinct even above the yells of the combatants and the

rattle of the rifles. "If I live it may be possible to pay you two for

this night's work!"

His words drove the timorousness from my heart, and before he ceased

speaking I was aiding Paul in severing the thongs with as much eagerness

as if it had been my idea rather than his to perform such perilous work.

The savages began to shoot at us in the hope of preventing our purpose,

and, perhaps, to kill the prisoner at the same time, whereupon our

people opened such rapid and murderous fire that not a be-feathered head

dared to show itself, and in a comparatively short space of time Simon

Kenton was running stiffly toward the nearest shelter.

He had been bound in one position so long that his limbs were nearly

helpless; but he managed to get over the ground nearly as fast as could

we two lads, and picked up a rifle that had fallen from a dead Indian's

hand even as he ran.

It was to me as if the fight had hardly more than begun when we three

were in a place of comparative safety once more, and on the alert to

pick off a foe.

Paul and I had a sufficient amount of ammunition to provide the scout

with what he needed in order to continue his portion of the fight, and

as he stood behind a big gum tree watching keenly for an opportunity to

avenge the insults he had endured, we carried on quite a friendly

conversation.

"What did you do when mornin' came an' I failed to show up?" Kenton

asked, whereupon I replied quickly, thinking that the present was by far

the best time I would ever have in which to acknowledge my fault.

"We went in search of you after an hour had passed, and failed to find

the canoe on our return."

Then Paul, most like, understanding that I would have the story told in

a manner favorable to myself, gave a hurried account of our adventures

from that time until we learned of the scout's trouble.

"I ran straight into the arms of four snakes who had heard me coming,

and showed myself to be the biggest idiot that ever made a try of goin'

down the Ohio River," Kenton said bitterly, and I rejoiced at the tone,

for it told that he would not be likely to inquire very closely into my

folly.

He had been bound to the tree where we found him, since early morning,

and during such time the savages had given him a slight foretaste of

what was to come, by cutting his body here and there until the blood

flowed in tiny streams.

At the moment it struck me as strange that we three should be talking of

the past in this leisurely fashion, interrupting ourselves now and then

to discharge our rifles when a tuft of feathers could be seen; but I

afterward came to know that in times of greatest danger Simon Kenton

appeared to be occupied with the most trifling affairs.

I asked him once, when the conversation lagged, if he had thought Major

Clarke's force might come to his relief, and he replied emphatically:

"I had no idea, lad, but that they were many miles below here. You can

be certain that I turned the matter over and over again in my mind.

There was ample time for reflection, and I could see no way but for me

to go into the other world as cheerfully as possible. I was determined

those sneaks shouldn't bring a cry of pain to my lips. But for you two,

for I'm countin' that some of the reptiles would have shot me before

this if you hadn't come up like little men, riskin' the bullets, to set

me free, I'd taken no more part in this 'ere trip of Major Clarke's. If

either of you ever get into a tight place, you can count on my standin'

close alongside while the breath stays in my body."

This was the moment when I should have confessed that but for Paul, he,

Simon Kenton, would yet be bound to the tree; but the words were not

spoken, and I have never ceased to regret that I did not make the

explanation due my comrade.

As I read over what is here set down it seems much as if I had made it

appear that we were giving little heed to whatever might be passing

around us, when, as a matter of fact, we were keenly alive to all that

went on, and lost no opportunity of dealing the painted fiends a deadly

blow.

Nor were the other members of our party at all backward in doing their

duty. As when we faced the savages further up the river, every man did

his best, and this display of courage was not to the liking of such

sneaks as had counted on shedding Simon Kenton's blood.

Within half an hour from the time the scout was set free, they began to

draw back, and we pressed our advantage until such a blow had been dealt

as must have taught them a lesson.

Then was heard Major Clarke's voice ordering the men back to the canoes,

and within a few moments we were being ferried across to the flat-boat,

where the other members of the expedition were waiting anxiously to

learn the result of the venture.

There was no longer any urgent reason why we should remain silent, for

the noise of the conflict had alarmed every painted snake within sound

of the rifles, and our men discussed the situation without taking the

precaution to speak in whispers.

The general belief appeared to be that these two parties whom we had

fought since daybreak, were one and the same. Our first meeting was with

those who were pushing on up the river in advance to spy out the land,

and it was the main body that had made of Kenton a prisoner.

All that had happened was for the best. But for my folly many men might

have been slain, and that folly would not have been committed but for

the fact of the scout's having been taking prisoner.

Clearly the good God had interposed in our favor, and we were come out

of the fights with nothing more serious than wounds which, if properly

cared for, would soon heal.

Within half an hour from the time we stepped on board the flat-boat

after having released Kenton, he insisted that Paul and I should lay

down to sleep, and at the moment I believed this display of care for us

arose from our efforts to release him at a time when death was looking

into his face.

Having had no sleep the night before, we were only too glad to act upon

his suggestion, and in a short time both of us lads were sleeping

soundly as only tired boys can.

At midnight we came to understand why Kenton had been so solicitous for

our welfare.

Then he aroused us, saying as we opened our eyes:

"I reckon you lads don't want to stay here any longer, an' it's time we

were movin'?"

"Where are you going?" I asked sleepily.

"Ahead of the flat-boats. Unless we start now there's little chance we

can do the party much good, an' I'm countin' on makin' a better job than

was the first one."

It was not to my liking, this setting out in the middle of the night to

drift through a country infested, as we had by this time every reason to

believe, with savage enemies, and I failed to understand how we could be

of benefit to the volunteers by sailing down the river in the darkness

when we might pass an hundred bands of reptiles without having any

suspicion they were near.

This much I said to Kenton, and he replied with a laugh:

"I reckon we can count on the river's bein' clear for the next thirty

miles, an' after we've gone that far it'll be a case of layin' alongside

the bank to wait for daylight, or takin' a quiet little scout ashore."

"As you did last night," I said quietly, giving but little heed to the

words, and a second later I could have bitten my tongue for having made

such a slip, for the scout said grimly:

"Perhaps it'll be as well if we don't talk much about last night. The

lad who leaves a canoe to search for a comrade who's out scoutin', not

havin' left any word as to where he might be goin', ain't in good trim

to cast up old scores at others."

Now it was I understood why Simon Kenton had refrained from making any

disagreeable remark when Paul told of our movements. He realized that we

had done a reckless thing, but was not minded to say what might have

hurt our feelings at a time when we had just aided in saving his life.

But for my quick tongue I should never have known that he realized fully

all my folly.

It can well be fancied that, after this reminder that I was not to be

trusted in time of danger, my lips remained closed, and in silence I set

about making ready for the journey.

The dugout which Kenton had decided to take was lying alongside, and in

her had already been placed such a supply of provisions as we might

need.

There was little for Paul and I to do save get our sleepy eyes wide

open, and clamber over the side of the flat-boat, a task which we

performed in silence.

Major Clarke was awake to give us his final instructions, and after he

had held a private conversation with Kenton, the latter came into the

canoe, casting off the hawser as he said in answer to a whispered remark

of the commander's:

"Never fear but that I know full well what may happen, an' you can count

on my bein' more careful than before."

I had an idea that these words might have reference to my foolishness of

the night previous, and did not seek to learn what Major Clarke had been

warning him against.

We pushed off into the darkness, our light craft moved quickly away by

the rapid current, and almost immediately it seemed as if we were wholly

alone in the wilderness once more.

Save to keep the canoe in mid-stream, Kenton made no effort to direct

her movements, and we floated down the river in silence, keeping sharp

watch on either bank while I promised myself never again to be guilty of

giving way to fear.

Paul, brave lad that he was, held his peace. Thus far he had covered

himself with the glory which can be gained when one is pitted against

such enemies as were ours, and the fact that I had not given him full

credit when there was an opportunity for so doing, only caused me to

feel the more keenly that he was my superior even though having had no

previous experience.

I guessed that the current carried us a good five miles an hour. The

distance from Corn Island to the rendezvous at the mouth of the

Tennessee River was said to be considerably more than three hundred

miles, and at the rate of progress made by the heavy boats, lying by

during the night as they did, it would require full six days in which to

make the journey.

We in the canoe could not look forward to less than five days of this

drifting on the river, in case we met with no delay, and while I

thought of my mother it seemed as if we were going to the other side of

the world. I wondered whether I might ever see her again, and it

appeared much as if the chances were against our meeting, judging from

the dangers into which we had already run when the voyage was hardly

more than well begun.

By this dwelling upon the possibilities I soon worked myself into a most

cowardly frame of mind, from which I did not awaken until we were come

to a long stretch of sandy land either side of the river, where there

was no fear our enemies could find a hiding-place.

Then it was that Simon Kenton started a conversation, as if knowing I

needed cheering, and he did not bring it to a close until we were near

the wooded portion of the shores again.

When daylight came we had seen nothing to cause alarm, although all knew

full well that we might have passed scores of savages without being

aware of the fact, and the scout paddled the boat toward the western

shore, as he said in a low tone:

"I'm countin' on havin' a look around, lads, an' this time you'll stay

quietly aboard till I come back, or the flat-boats heave in sight."

Paul, understanding that these words were somewhat in the nature of a

reproof to me, said boldly:

"It was well for you, Simon Kenton, that Louis insisted on going ashore,

else the sun had never risen again for your eyes."

"All that I know right well, lad, an' I'd be a brute if I didn't give

the fact due weight; but I'm not willin' you should put your own lives

in peril for me. You've got people who love you, while I----"

He ceased speaking suddenly as if having said more than he intended, and

again my tongue was an unruly member.

"Haven't you any kin who would mourn because of your absence?" I asked,

and Simon Kenton's face grew pale, bronzed though it was by the

weather.

"The less that's said about me the better," he replied curtly, and then,

the canoe being alongside the bank, he sprang out to make her fast, thus

putting an end to further words.

He was absent no more than half an hour, during which time Paul and I

sat motionless and silent, hidden by the foliage, from the view of any

who might pass either by land or water.

When he returned we knew he had seen no signs of danger, although not a

word was spoken until we were a mile or more from the halting place.

Then he said quietly:

"I reckon we've already met all the reptiles who are roamin' hereabout,

an' that we shan't run our noses into any more fights this side of the

Tennessee River. We'll keep a sharp lookout just the same, though, an'

pull up to-night so's not to get too far ahead of the volunteers."

As he said so we did. During the day we drifted with the current seeing

naught of danger, and at nightfall pulled the canoe up under the

overhanging foliage to enjoy a good night's rest.

The story of this day's journey was that of the days which followed

until we were come to the rendezvous, arriving, as we believed, not more

than four and twenty hours in advance of Major Clarke's force.

Since the day when Simon Kenton was made prisoner we had seen no signs

of the foe, and it seemed certain that then we had come upon the only

warlike band outside the British outposts.

When we stepped from the canoe at the mouth of the Tennessee River I

drew in a long breath of relief, for at that moment I was nearer

exhaustion than I ever believed would be possible when one has done

nothing more than remain inactive.

To sit in a narrow boat like our dugout day after day, not daring to

move lest she should be overset, is real labor. I had never had much

experience in such traveling, and felt that I really needed no more.

We made camp by building a lean-to of light stuff, and while Simon

Kenton went back into the thicket to search for game of some kind, Paul

Sampson and I lounged lazily about, enjoying to the utmost the

possibility of stretching our limbs at full length.

The scout was yet absent when we saw emerge cautiously from the foliage

four white men, and but for the fact that they carried a goodly supply

of meat, thus showing they had been out hunting, I might have suspected

them to be British spies.

As it was, I did not feel at liberty to give any especial information

concerning ourselves, and warned Paul to be on his guard against

speaking of the flat-boats; but rather to let them believe we were

simply journeying down the river in search of a homestead location.

As a matter of course the sharp-eyed hunters saw our lean-to

immediately they emerged, from amid the underbrush, and came directly

toward us.

In the wilderness men are either enemies or friends; there is no

half-way ground as amid townspeople, and I at once decided in my mind

that these newcomers might be depended upon, although I wished most

heartily for Simon Kenton, who could, take the responsibility of

receiving them.

Their first question was as to whether we were alone, and on being told

who was our companion and leader, one of the party expressed the

greatest pleasure at meeting him once more.

"I've scouted an' trapped with young Kenton," the hunter said warmly,

"an' a better friend I never hope to have. Where are you headin', lads?"

I stammered, not willing to give much information until we knew more

regarding the strangers, and yet hesitating to refuse an answer to a

simple question, when Paul said quickly, relieving me of my

embarrassment:

"If you know Simon Kenton, sir, you can well understand that it does not

become us boys to speak of his purpose. He has gone in search of meat,

and will soon return to answer for himself."

"Well, said, lad. You have a cautious tongue, an' it's needed

hereabouts, because some of us have white enemies as well as red. We can

wait for Kenton, an' meanwhile there'll be no great harm done if we set

to work cookin' a bit of this 'ere game."

Then the men took possession of our poor camp, and the odor of meat

cooking was soon rising on the evening air, sharpening our appetites

until, but for the shame of it, I would have begged some of the food

before it had more than been browned by the flames.

The meal was not yet prepared when Simon Kenton appeared, and I was

rejoiced to see him greet the hunters as if they had been old friends,

for it told that during this night at least we had nothing to fear.

Without hesitation he explained the purpose of our coming, and told of

the flat-boats with their loads of volunteers which might be expected on

the morrow, whereupon the strangers seemed highly gratified.

It appeared, as I soon learned by the conversation, that these men had

come from Kaskaskia; but were by no means on friendly terms with the

commander of the British post there.

They were in sympathy with the efforts of the colonists to shake off the

yoke which the king had put upon them, and declared their purpose to

join Major Clarke's force, if that officer should be willing to receive

them.

"I'll answer for it that the major gives you a hearty welcome," Kenton

said in a tone of satisfaction, "an' by your aid we shall be able to

surprise the outpost."

Then the conversation ceased in order that all hands might partake of

the meal, which by this time was prepared, and we two lads felt that

the most dangerous portion of the enterprise was over, although at least

two British garrisons were yet to be captured.

On the Kentucky Frontier: A Story of the Fighting Pioneers of the West · 第 8 / 12 章